What You See (19 page)

“I know this might sound horrible, but unless Carl dies, I’m
not going to say anything to Mom about it right now. Is that all right with
you? Claire, I’m really sorry about the baby.”

“Thanks, Jesse,” she whispered, and then raised her voice a
decimal. “That’s fine with me. I just wanted to let you know the situation.”

“I knew something was wrong at the funeral,” I suggested.
“You were so quiet, and Carl was so... nice.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I did the best I could.”

“If you need me for anything, call me at this number, it’s my
cell phone. You can reach me anytime. It’s
555-1963
.”

“1963—that’s the year Mom and Dad got married,” Claire
recalled.

“You’re right!” I exclaimed. “I knew that number sounded
familiar.”

I hung up the phone, feeling sad that I couldn’t help Claire.
All I could do was talk to her, and hope for the best. I’d be there if she
needed me, but I wasn’t going to forsake my mother’s well-being to help her
deal with him. Mom wouldn’t hear about this for a long time, unless the creep
managed to die. Then we’d deal with it, when the time came.

“I need to go home,” Cole stood up and said. “
Poor
River
has been neglected far too long. I
need to give him a little attention.”

Billy pushed his chair back and said, “Yeah, I’d better go,
too.”

A lonely feeling crept over me. I didn’t want them to leave,
but I refused to be selfish by asking them to stay.

As Cole and Billy walked out the front door, Cole turned to
me and whispered, “I’ll be back in an hour if that’s all right with you.”

That was more than okay with me! Regardless of all the
sadness and guilt I’d been through in the last two weeks, I still had that
burning desire to be close to him again. But I made myself do the right thing.

“I’d love it,” I whispered. “I just don’t think tonight would
be a good night.” I looked over at the bedroom window. “I think Mom’s going to
need me tonight. She’s having a hard time.”

He brought his face close to mine, looked deep into my eyes
and touched my soul. How could I not love this man? He’s everything a girl
could possibly want—he’s a nice person... and good-looking.

“I understand,” Cole said. “I’ll come by in the morning to
see if you need anything.” He bent down and gave me a quick kiss.

My legs began to quiver and my insides felt like mush, until
Billy spoke and broke the spell.

Halfway down the porch steps, he blurted out, “Yeah, and I’ll
come by early in the morning to see if we can do something about this grass. It
needs to be cut. This time of year, you have to watch out for snakes.”

“What do you mean, snakes?” I shrieked.

“I mean, the kind you want to avoid,” he snickered. “There’re
two things you need to remember about snakes: if the snake is black, you’re
safe; if it’s red like me, run fast!” He turned and walked out to his truck,
laughing the whole way. Like my mother would say... this man is going to be the
death of me, yet.

Cole tried to calm me. “As much as I hate to admit it, he has
a point. The minute it gets warm around here, the snakes come out. As long as
you’re cautious and aware of them, you’ll be fine. You need to watch where you
walk. Do you know how to use your dad’s shotgun?”

“I didn’t know he had one,” I replied. “I know he has a bunch
of rifles and stuff, but I never paid much attention.” I’d been too busy trying
to conceal that shiny little piece of steel I kept in my handbag, I thought to
myself. If I told Cole I was carrying a concealed weapon in my purse, without a
permit, would he arrest me? My paranoia was out of control and running wild,
again.

“Tomorrow, I’ll show you how to use your dad’s shotgun. It’s
easy. You can handle it,” he assured me.

That night turned out to be uneventful. Mom and Athena were
sleeping on Mom’s bed when I went upstairs. I didn’t realize how tired I was,
until I crawled into bed. My whole body ached and my brain felt like cheese.

Is this the way life is in the mountains? When we moved here,
I thought it would be peaceful and quiet—not intense and emotional. I thought
we were going to slow down... relax... enjoy life.

What happened?

Saturday
morning I awoke
to the
sound of a lawnmower. I rolled over and looked at the clock on the nightstand
beside my bed.
Seven
o’clock
! Don’t these
people ever sleep late? I forced myself out of bed and walked over to the
window. Billy’s truck was parked on the side of the house along with Cole’s
Jeep. Cole was wrestling a riding lawnmower off a trailer attached to his Jeep,
and Billy was cutting grass with another one. I slipped on a pair of jeans and
a T-shirt, and followed the noise I heard coming from the kitchen. Mom was
rustling around in the cabinet, the aroma of coffee permeating the air.

“Good-morning,” she said. “They’re hard at it first thing.”

“I heard,” I said, motioning to the sound of the lawnmower. I
walked to the utility room and opened the door. I stood there marveling at how
lucky we were to have such nice fellows as our friends. Cole caught sight of me
and waved. My heart did a flip-flop. This was the first time that I had a
relationship with a guy who was also a friend. It was a good feeling.

I poured myself a cup of coffee, kissed Mom on the cheek, and
said I was going upstairs to do some work. I thought I’d use this time to read
over the Carrolton file again. Once the guys finished cutting grass, Mom
assured me she’d have breakfast ready for us. By then, I might come up with
more questions for Billy. I needed to contribute something. He’d been there for
me ever since the day I met him, and I’d done nothing for him. He’d done so
much for me, and never asked anything in return... and all I did was take. It
was time for me to do my share. I needed to return the friendship and support.

I drank my coffee and tried to wash down another guilt
attack. Sitting on the bed, I thumbed through what had become a briefcase
stuffed with a collection of police reports, photos, notes, and various pieces
of paper that one of us had scribbled some tidbit. I’d also begun keeping what
I would call an activities book—a small composition book in which I’d recorded
times and dates of things we did and the people we’d talked to. I started doing
this the day Billy called me into his office to take notes during his interview
with the Carroltons. After Rebecca Miller killed her husband, I got serious
about recording every specific detail of our actions. I felt it was imperative
to be able to account for our whereabouts at any given time. As long as we were
together, we could back each other up, something I’ve found to be important in
this line of work. Cover your butt! The minute the police learned that there
was a private detective involved, their hair stood on end, and they started to
foam at the mouth. Immediately, they assume the P.I. is the one at fault.
They’re like rabid dogs, except for Cole—he’s only semi-rabid.

Among the piles of paperwork, I found two new manila file
folders. One was labeled, Rose Hudgins/waitress, and the other labeled, Tom
Dorey/gas station attendant. This must’ve been what he was doing on his
computer before we left work Friday—gathering more information on them. I was
curious to know if he’d stumbled onto anything new. Any additional detail could
spark my imagination. Also, I wanted to see if he’d made any notations about my
silly ideas. I know he thought I was way off base, but I just had this strange
feeling.

Most of the information in Rose’s file was reports that I’d
already seen. Then I came across a copy of a birth certificate stapled to a
lone sheet of paper. The paper contained general data about

Rose: address; where she went to school, etc., but the birth
certificate was in the name of Patrick Jason Teale. Who was this guy? Why would
a birth certificate be attached to her file, unless they were related? Could
that be the answer? I needed to ask Billy about this.

I went downstairs and out into the front yard. The air had
the smell of fresh cut grass. Even though it was barely
eight o’clock
, the sun was out in all its glory.
Next weekend was the 4th of July, a holiday that my family always celebrated
together. Claire would bring the kids and that man to whom she was married.
Most of the time, Jack would show up alone. I wondered about Jack sometimes. He
seldom had a girl with him, and never the same one twice. What about this 4th
of July? Normally, a cookout at Mom and Dad’s on Memorial Day, the 4th of July,
and Labor Day was pretty much a set thing. Thanksgiving and Christmas were a
must. You didn’t dare miss either one of those. But things were different now.

The guys had just finished cutting the grass as I walked down
the steps. They came head-to-head in front of me, and shut down their mowers.
Beads of sweat lined the foreheads on both of them. It must’ve been from the
heat. How much sweat could you work up on a riding lawnmower?

“Working up a sweat over me?” I joked.

“Ha… ha,” Billy sneered.

“Mom’s cooking breakfast,” I said.

“Great!” Cole replied. “I could use some food.”

I walked up to Billy and said, “I was going over the
Carrolton file, and came across a birth certificate for Patrick Jason Teale.
Who is he, and what has he got to do with Rose Hudgins?”

Billy climbed off of his lawnmower, pulled me aside and said,
“Have you forgotten that your boyfriend’s a cop?” The look in his eyes
convinced me he was serious. “Never talk about our investigations in front of
him, okay? It’s his duty to ask questions. What we do is none of his business,
unless it becomes his business. Do you get my drift?”

Yes, I think I do. My new career choice had been to take up
with a man who snoops into people’s private lives for a living, and at the same
time, I fell for his childhood buddy, who just so happens to be a cop. It was
going to be a bumpy ride.

Cole instantly knew what we were talking about. “Billy, I
told you the CPD was handling this case. Why are you getting in the middle of
it?”

Billy and I looked at each other. I didn’t say a word.

“Obviously, they haven’t gotten any closer to finding the
girl, otherwise, why would the parents hire me?” He stared at Cole. “From the
looks of things, it was a smart move on their part. The CPD hasn’t come up with
anything, and it’s been six months.”

“Back down on this one, Billy,” Cole warned. “There’s stuff
going on here you don’t know about.”

“Why don’t you enlighten me?”

“I can’t do that and you know it.”

“Yeah... right. You can do anything you want.”

“It’s not our case. It belongs to
Charlottesville
. They don’t seem to have a need for
our services, but if they do, I’ll give you anything I can. Until then, just
leave it alone.”

“I’m not going to do that. Why do you even suggest it?”

Trying to spearhead what was developing into another argument
between the two of them, I stepped in the middle. “Cool it, guys. Mom has
breakfast ready, so let’s go eat. I don’t want her to hear the two of you at it
again.” I needed to talk to Billy, but not in front of Cole. “Cole, would you
give us a few minutes? I have something to discuss with Billy, and under the
circumstances, I think it’d be best if you weren’t here.”

“Fine,” he retorted. “I’ll tell your mom that you’ll be right
in.” He took out his bandanna and wiped his face as he walked into the house.

I flashed Billy one of my mean looks and said, “Why can’t you
guys get along and work together? Why do you always have to be fighting?”

“O-si-yo, is anyone home?” he asked as he tapped my head.
“You just don’t understand, do you?”

“Understand what?”

“Cops hate us. Not me in particular, but us in general. When
all else fails, we come in and clean up their mess. They don’t like it. Our
involvement really sets their blood on fire.”

“Whatever you say,” I rolled my eyes at him. “Listen,” I
huddled up to him, “I wanted to talk to you about this birth certificate.
What’s the deal here? Who is this guy Patrick Jason Teale?”

“He’s Rose Hudgins’ adopted brother. It seems after Rose was
born, the mama couldn’t, or wouldn’t have more babies. A couple of years later
they adopted him. He was two at the time. His father was a psycho—high on drugs
all the time. He beat his wife to death with a hammer, and then killed himself
with a Colt 45. One shot to the head. It wasn’t pretty, and you know Patrick
Jason must’ve seen it, because when the police arrived, he was sitting in the
middle of the floor between them.”

“How do you know all this stuff?” I asked.

“I did some research. It’s amazing what you can find out on
the Internet. It’s a wealth of information.”

“Where did you get a copy of his birth certificate?”

“It was simple. Once I uncovered the fact that he was
adopted, it was just a matter of search and find. I went back to the year of
his adoption and searched the newspapers. Sure enough, there was a write up on
his parent’s death, and a small picture of him in the article—poor kid.”

“What made you decide to check him out?”

“It’s my job to check everything out, and if I remember
correctly, you’re the one who wanted me to dig deeper into Rose Hudgins’ past.
It’s interesting, don’t you think?”

“I think we should go pay her a visit, and have a talk with
her.”

“Do you want to go right now?”

“Yes, I do, unless you have other plans,” I replied. “We’ve
ridden by her house, but we haven’t gone up to her door.”

“That’s because it didn’t look like anyone was home.”

“Yeah, but today is Saturday. Somebody’s probably there now.
What could it hurt? If we could just get inside, I’m sure we could nose around
and come up with something.”

“Like what? A bloody hammer?” he joked.

“You have two choices: Rose Hudgins or Tom Dorey. They’re the
only two people who had any contact with Helen, except the man in her car. If
she’s dead, he’s the killer. If that’s the case, I believe our man’s a local.
Who else would be on foot in an area, miles apart from any house or store? All
we have to do is poke around a little more.”

“Who says he was on foot? Maybe he had a car parked
somewhere, or she could’ve picked him up outside the grill. Who knows?”

“If she picked him up outside of the grill, don’t you think
it would seem strange to him if she stopped five miles down the road to get
gas? She could’ve done that at the gas station next to the diner. How else
could she explain it? This leads me to believe she picked him up somewhere
along the way, before she reached the next gas station. Stopping for gas was
probably a ploy on her part to get him to let her stop. She was hoping that
she’d get somebody’s attention... someone who could help her. What about the
used car lot? Was anyone working the afternoon Helen stopped at the Piney
Mountain Grill? Maybe someone saw something. Perhaps the bad guy worked there.
What about the mini-mart? It sits right in the middle of everything, and people
are constantly going in and out of that place. Who was on duty the...”

“Hold on a minute, `ge ya. You sure have a wild imagination.”

“You know, I’m getting pretty tired of your voodoo language.
If you have something to say to me, say it in English. I have enough to deal
with as it is,” I demanded.

I was stressed out and didn’t need to play footsies with
Billy. I think I was just a little bit jealous that he could speak a language
that I didn’t understand. It also made our communication more difficult.

“Forget it. It’s not important,” Billy said. “Let’s go in and
have breakfast with your mom and your boyfriend—then we’ll go out and conquer
the world.”