Precedent: Book Three: Covenant of Trust Series (9 page)

Shannon scrolled through a list of obscure science fiction titles on the store’s computer, searching for a book a customer had requested. She was the last one in the house to get back to work, back to a routine . . . except her mother. After three days, things were starting to feel normal again. At least as normal as they were ever gonna be.

The security system dinged, so she reflexively checked the door. Dylan Snider walked in. He parked his sunglasses on top of his head, and she caught the glint of a diamond in his ear bigger than her mother’s engagement ring. His T-shirt was at least one size too small, so it stretched across his chest. He wore the same type of long cargo shorts that Jack liked, except Dylan didn’t look like such a dork in them.

I didn’t know he could read.
She went back to the computer, back to the search.
Maybe it’s listed under fantasy instead of sci-fi.

Within moments, Dylan appeared at the counter with a video game magazine. “I didn’t know you worked here,” he said.

“
Two years now.” She picked up his magazine and ran the bar code across the scanner. “Is this all?”

“
Yeah,” he said, reaching for his wallet.

“
Do you have one of our members’ discount cards?”

“
What? No. Listen, Shannon, I’m really sorry about the party and everything. I’d like to make it up to you. Can I take you for dinner somewhere tomorrow night?”

“
Serious?”

“
As a heart attack,” Dylan said with a smile.

Her head, her gut instinct, everything inside her screamed “say no!” but what better test of her dad’s sincerity could there be? If he really trusted her, he would let the date go without much comment. If he went off, well . . . then she was right about him.

“
Okay, Dylan.” Shannon dropped the magazine in a bag. “I think I’d like that.”

“
Six?”

“
Six is fine. See you tomorrow.”

* * *

Friday, June 27

“
I had a great time,” Dylan said with as much smooth sincerity as he could muster. He eased his car to a stop in front of Shannon’s house, then he twisted around to face her. “I hope this isn’t the last time I get to take you out.”

“
I have to admit,” she said, “in spite of your reputation, you’re a really nice guy.”

“
So do nice guys get to kiss you good night?” he asked with a sly grin.

“
Just a quick one.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek, then hopped out of the car. “Thanks again!”

Dylan watched her walk up the driveway, then he pulled out his cell phone. “Wes, you better be saving your money. You’re gonna have to pay up on this one. I’ll have her in five dates, maybe three.” A nice guy. He laughed and drove away.

* * *

Chuck spent a solid week encouraging and prodding, but it paid off. He convinced Bobbi to join him for an at-home movie date. He popped a bowl of popcorn and rented a couple of chick flicks the girl at the video store recommended. Two hours. That’s all he was asking for. If he could take Bobbi’s mind off everything for just two hours, it would be a major victory.

For a sweet hour and a half, he thought he’d pulled it off. He sat on the sofa with his arm around her, enjoying just being close to her. When she laughed gently, he felt a boost, like things were turning around, that grief was subsiding at last. Before the movie finished, he heard Shannon come in.

She shuffled in and leaned against the doorframe. “Where’s Jack?” she asked.

“
Upstairs,” Bobbi answered, motioning for Shannon to come and sit. “Did you have fun?”

“
Yeah, I did, actually.” She sat on the arm of the easy chair across from the sofa.

“
What’d you do?” Chuck asked, trying his best not to sound like an interrogator.

“
I, uh, I had a date.”

“
Sweetheart, we need to meet these boys before you go out with them,” Bobbi said. “You know that.”

“
You can meet him. That’s no problem.”

“
Before the date, not after,” Chuck said, his voice rising ever so slightly. “Who was he?”

Shannon glanced at her mother, then faced him and said without wavering, “Dylan Snider.”

“
The boy who had the party? What were you thinking?” He jerked the remote control off the coffee table and turned off the television. “Is this how you repay us for cutting you a break over the arrest? For believing you that you were innocent?”

“
You never believed me! You only went along with it because of Mom.”

“
Give me your car keys.” Chuck held his hand out. His voice was quiet and steady. He wasn’t going to get angry and make things worse.

Shannon took the keys from her purse and dropped them in his hand. “You can’t keep me here. I have a job. I’m eighteen now.”

“
I don’t care how old you are,” Chuck said. “Check the deed. This is my house, and you will live by my standards.”

“
So is adultery okay, then?”

“
Shannon!” Bobbi stood between them. “That’s enough!”

Chuck took a step back. If Bobbi intervened, things would calm down.

“
Mom, I’m sorry.” Then she turned to him, her eyes narrowed in bitter anger. “Just remember that whatever happens, it’s your fault.”

“
Where is this coming from?” Chuck asked, his fists clenched in barely controlled fury. He could feel the heat on the back of his neck, the surge of adrenaline pushing his pulse. “What has gotten into you? Is it Katelyn? Is she putting you up to this?”

“
Leave Katelyn out of this,” Shannon seethed. “You brought this on all of us when you decided to sleep with that whore!” She pointed a finger at his chest. “You’re just like King David. His baby paid, his kingdom paid, his sons and daughters paid. . . .” Bobbi reached for Shannon’s arm, trying to pull her into the kitchen, but Shannon wouldn’t budge. “Brad’s dead. Joel and Abby can’t have kids. Everyone has paid because of you, Dad.”

“
Shannon, you need to—” Bobbi began, but Chuck cut her off.

“
No, let her say what she’s got to say.”

“
She’s said enough.” Bobbi turned to Shannon. “I don’t care what hurts or injustices have been inflicted on you, nothing . . . nothing justifies that kind of language and that kind of disrespect. I want you to apologize.” She locked eyes with Shannon and added, “Now.”

“
I can’t,” Shannon said quietly, shaking her head. “I can’t do that. I’m sorry, Mom.” She turned and bolted from the room and up the stairs. Chuck snatched up the nearest thing he could get a hand on and heaved it across the room. The hardback book hit the wall with a thud, denting the drywall.

Bobbi whipped around to face him. “I thought we were past all that!” she said sharply.

He steadied himself against the wall and raised his fists to his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Bobbi. I lost it. I’m so sorry. Dear God, I’m sorry.”

She reached out and touched his arm. “Chuck, you’re shaking. What is it?”

He wiped his eyes and dropped his hands to his sides. “What if . . . what if she’s right? What if this, all of this, is my fault?”

“
It’s not,” Bobbi said quietly. “That’s crazy. Shannon’s upset—”

“
No, she’s thought about this. Reasoned it out.”

“
But that doesn’t make it so.”

Chuck frowned and looked away. People revealed their deepest convictions in times of high emotion. And why did he lash back at her with that kind of anger? Because . . . deep down . . . he suspected she was right.

“
. . . and since you won’t take my word for it, let’s call Glen first thing in the morning,” Bobbi said.

“
For her or for me?” Hearing Glen confirm it was the last thing he wanted.

“
All of us.”

* * *

Jack’s hands shook with outrage and indignation, sloshing the Coke over the rim of his glass. He should never have come down to the kitchen for a snack. He should have just waited for breakfast tomorrow. But no . . . And he heard every word. Every last hateful, spiteful word.

His mother wasn’t a . . . She wasn’t. She was messed up. He would admit that much, but she wasn’t . . . She wasn’t what Shannon called her. She just wanted somebody to love her, to tell her she was okay. That didn’t make her a . . .

No. It didn’t. Shannon owed him an apology. And he intended to make sure he got it.

* * *

Saturday, June 28

Before daybreak, Shannon stole downstairs and out the front door. She patted her front pocket, pleased with herself for having the foresight to get an extra set of car keys made. She eased the front door closed and checked up and down the street. No one was out, not even walkers or joggers. She quickly unlocked her car, slung her bag into the passenger seat and shut the door as quietly as she could.

She glanced back at her house, her resolve wavering just a little. She shook her head quickly as if to clear her mind. There was no other choice. She turned the key in the ignition, but nothing happened. Not even a click.

What the . . . ?

The gas gauge read three quarters of a tank. Not the battery. Alternator, maybe. Irritated, she popped the hood and got out of the car. When she raised the hood, she swore out loud. Her dad had taken the spark plug wires. “You think he could trust me any less?” she muttered. She clicked the hood closed and took out her cell phone. “Dylan, I need some help.”

* * *

An hour later, Bobbi got up after a fitful night of sleep. Chuck was asleep beside her, but she knew it had only been for the last hour or two. Before heading downstairs for her first cup of coffee, she opened Jack’s bedroom door slightly, checking on him just as she had done every morning since he’d lived with them. She was relieved to hear his deep breathing. Finally, he was able to rest.

Then following her routine, she walked to the opposite end of the hall to Shannon’s room. Through the night, catching each other awake, she and Chuck talked, trying to come up with an explanation for why Shannon’s emotions became so intense so quickly. What could they have done differently? Where had they failed?

None of them had really processed Brad’s death. Chuck suggested she take Shannon away for a weekend, someplace where they could both vent all their grief and frustration. Maybe Shannon was uneasy about starting college and leaving home now. Maybe she just needed to know she could sit out a semester, or even a whole year.

Bobbi pushed the door open just wide enough to peek in, and in the dim light she could see the bed was made, the room was completely in order, but Shannon was gone.

Bobbi flung the door open and turned on the light. An envelope with
Mom
written on the outside lay on the desk. Bobbi ripped the envelope open and pulled out the single sheet of notepaper. It said simply, “I love you. I’m sorry.”

“
No,” Bobbi said. “This is not happening . . . CHUCK!”

Chapter 7

Exploitation

Panicked and disoriented, Chuck rushed into Shannon’s bedroom ready to fight somebody off or mop up blood. “Bobbi? What? What’s the matter? Where’s Shannon?”

“
She’s gone.” Bobbi thrust a piece of paper at him.

He squinted to read the girlish script. “Sorry? For what? What is she talking about?”

“
Mom? What’s wrong?” Jack stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes.

“
Shannon’s gone,” she snapped. “Do you know anything about this?”

“
She hasn’t spoken to me in a couple of weeks,” Jack answered softly.

“
Get me a phone,” Bobbi said sharply.

“
No, Jack, check downstairs and out on the deck for her first,” Chuck said. Jack nodded and left. “Don’t take it out on him.”

She whipped around to face him, her teeth clenched in defiant anger. “Don’t tell me how . . .” Then her eyes met his and she collapsed on the bed, burying her face in her hands.

He sat beside her and held her close. “Honey, let’s not jump to conclusions here. What if she just needed to get out of the house for a while?”

She pushed away from him, indignant. “At seven a.m. on Saturday? Honestly, Chuck!”

“
Bobbi, you asked her to apologize last night, and she refused. She wrote you a note, and she’s processing all of it by herself before she comes back to face us.”

“
How can you be so sure?”

“
Because you’re the same way. Brad was the same way. Rita’s the same way. All of you react with these highly charged emotions, but then after you’ve some time to decompress, you work through the situation.” He squeezed her hand and walked to Shannon’s window. “Her car’s still here. If she’s not here, she’s probably stomping around the park, muttering at me under her breath.”

Jack reappeared, and avoiding Bobbi’s eyes, he said, “She wasn’t downstairs.” He held the cordless phone out to Bobbi as if he expected to lose a hand. “Here’s the phone.”