Authors: Robyn Carr
But that family he had run from so many years ago lived here. He liked the idea that he could see more of Ashley; maybe watch her cheer a game or two, maybe be in the crowd when she graduated. But he wasn’t sure Ashley, or Gina for that matter, had any interest in seeing more of
him
. Even though everyone had settled into their lives, having the biological father show up could really bring attention to the fact that Ashley had been born out of wedlock. And her father was an ex-con.
Eric went to the service station and had his Jeep SUV gassed up. He pulled over to the side of the station and went into the garage to have a chat with Norm Sileski who had owned and worked this station for about forty-five years. He had a couple of grown sons who didn’t want it. It was far beneath Eric’s standards—it was run-down, dirty, greasy, broken down and weathered. But it was the only game in town, had room on the lot to expand and Norm did most of the car repair in town. Eric suspected people got their gas other places when they could; he was a little high-priced. He’d looked over the P&L reports—Norm made a decent living.
And no one knew better than Eric how to turn a run-down dump like this into a first-rate business. He’d already done it once in Eugene. He’d expected to be there for the rest of his life. But then some rich guy who wanted a chain of body shops came along and...
“You need new pumps there, Norm,” Eric said.
“Need new everything, Mr. Gentry,” he said. “But I’m not putting another dime in this place to pretty it up. I’m headed for seventy years old. Fast.” And then he grinned. “You buy this place, I’ll turn a wrench for you part-time as long as I’m upright.”
“You don’t want to enjoy your retirement?”
“Yes, sir, I do. If Mrs. Sileski has her way, I’ll be going on cruises and traveling to countries where I don’t speak the language. Just gimme a wrench.”
Eric laughed at him. He asked a few more questions—who were his employees, mechanics, cleanup crew; had he ever kept a tow truck at the station; who was his distributor? They chatted about the weather for a little while. Eric asked Norm if he’d lived in Thunder Point his whole life and how he liked it. “Like it fine if you can take having everybody and their brother in your business all the time.”
Hmm, Eric thought. That might be a downside, especially for someone like Ashley. And her mother.
He was a little early when he got to the McCain home to pick up Ashley. The place was alive with activity. Mac was rushing off with his son, Ryan. Eve McCain and her boyfriend were taking the youngest, Dee Dee, to her dance class, Gina was still at work. Everyone said hello, shook his hand and carried on. And Ashley was ready. “This is a typical Saturday,” she said. “I usually have cheer practice, but we won last night’s game and that bought us a day off.”
“Hungry?” he asked.
“I’m starving, but I never shop after food. Can you make it another couple of hours? Two at the latest?”
He thought he might faint by then. Of course if he had his hands in an engine or was in the paint bay or hammering out a classic car bumper, he could forget to eat. But, trying to play the good father, he was going
shopping
.
“No problem,” he said. “Just lead the way.”
Eric hated shopping. He usually went about twice a year—once for a bunch of clothes, underwear and socks and the second time to buy Christmas presents. But there was something about shopping with the daughter he hadn’t known he had that was a whole new experience, and it was energizing. She tried on everything; she was very particular. And as if she was spending her own money, she was painfully frugal. She turned away many items even after he said he could well afford them. Her choices were mostly sale items. In the end she had a very full shopping bag for a grand total of $247.68. Most girls her age would have taken advantage of an opportunity like this. After all, he owed her.
“Shoes?” he asked.
“I’m good.”
“Lunch?”
She laughed. “Starving. There’s a Red Robin around the corner.”
They got a booth and wasted no time in ordering. And while they waited for food, Eric asked about school and about Frank, two things he asked about whenever he talked to her. When he’d first learned of Ashley and first met her she’d been going through a painful teenage broken heart—her serious boyfriend had gone off to college and found himself a new girl, throwing Ashley into a very vulnerable depression. That was, in fact, the reason Gina came looking for him. She’d been so worried about Ashley she thought it made sense to find out if things like depression ran in Eric’s family.
And then in one of those fateful episodes no one can plan or even guess, one of the people to help her pull out of it was Crawford Downy’s younger brother, Frank.
“Frank is good,” she said. “He already has scholarship offers. He calls himself a nerd, but he’s not really. Well, yes, I guess he is. But he’s so interesting and so cute I forget about that. Besides, he’s the nicest person in the world. And to think I wouldn’t even really know him if Downy hadn’t dumped me.”
“What’s that like? Dating an ex’s brother?” he asked.
“Sometimes awkward. Thank God Downy went back to State. We see him around town when he’s home for a visit and Frank swears Downy doesn’t give him a hard time. I bet Frank would swear that even if it weren’t true—he’s so protective. I think Frank is going to go to MIT. I’ve lived in Thunder Point my whole life and not too many people I know scored that kind of education just based on brains. We’ve turned out some decent athletes, but nothing like what Frank’s doing.”
“And what about you?” Eric asked.
“Same,” she said with a shrug. “I’m going to go to community college in Coquille for at least a year, maybe two. I’m just not quite ready to move away. Almost, though. I haven’t decided where I want to go to school after that, but I can’t wait to visit Frank on the East Coast. Something there might get my interest.”
“Do you think you’ll come back to Thunder Point after college?” he asked.
“I have no idea,” she said with a laugh. “I have no idea what to study! I took one of those tests to show you what you’re most interested in and have the best aptitude for and guess what it came up with? Coroner!”
He whistled. “Talk about job security. Always a need for coroners, unfortunately.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so. Although I do like to watch TV shows like
Rizzoli & Isles
.”
“Maybe you’re just interested in science. Maybe you’ll be a doctor.”
“I think I could,” she said. “But every time I think about twelve years or so of college and residency, I think—gimme a break.”
He just laughed and right then their burgers arrived. “I didn’t even finish high school.”
“Yes, you did,” she said. And then she did what so many females did—she rearranged her sandwich, moving the lettuce, tomatoes around, making it all neat and then cutting it in half. “And you have a little college.”
He’d gotten his GED in prison. He’d taken a few more courses, mainly to pass the time, never having any idea he’d one day own his own business. “And Frank?”
She took a dainty bite of her burger, wiped her mouth, swallowed. “I think Frank might run the world someday. He’ll be like the head of NASA or something. If he had the slightest interest in politics, he’d be the president. You just have no idea....”
He smiled at her. He’d met Frank. Nice kid, very cordial and respectful. But Eric hadn’t been as dazzled by his big brain as Ashley apparently was. Then again, Frank hadn’t really been showcasing his brain. He’d been paddleboarding. And Eric had been studying his physique and the way he looked at Ashley. Frank really cared about his daughter. It was a very odd feeling.
“And what’s going on in the car business?” she asked.
“Day to day,” he said. “There has been an interesting development. Some guy wants to buy my business. He’s been in contact several times over the past year. I’ve been ignoring him.”
“No kidding? That’s very cool.”
“Yeah, I guess it is. My lack of interest just makes him want it more. I’m kind of proud of that—that some guy with money is impressed with the shop. With the help of some friends, I built it from nothing.”
“But you’d never sell it.”
He gave a shrug. “Part of me thinks that would be crazy, starting over now after all the work I put in. Another part says, take the money and run. I could do it again. In fact I’ve been looking around to see if there’s anything out there.”
She got a panicked look on her face. She swallowed. “Would you be farther away?”
“Well, funny you should ask,” he said. He hadn’t meant to bring the subject up like this, but he told himself he’d learn a lot just from Ashley’s expression. “There’s a possibility in Thunder Point.”
Her eyes sparkled, it was unmistakable. “Seriously?”
“Nothing I can confirm—I haven’t even decided it makes sense to sell the shop. But Thunder Point...the question is, is that little town big enough for both of us?”
“What do you mean?”
“Ashley, it’s one thing for me to spend a couple of hours there every so often. It would be another matter to have me there all the time. It would probably raise questions about our history. About your birth. It could be uncomfortable for you.”
She smiled at him. “Eric, everyone in town knows my mom wasn’t married when I was born. I’ve introduced you as my biological father even though I think you’ll always be Eric to me.”
“You could be teased or criticized for having a father who served time in prison....”
“Well, I haven’t mentioned that to hardly anyone, just my best friend, who is now my stepsister. And I’m sure my mom told Mac. I don’t know if anyone else knows, but I don’t really care what anyone says about that. It’s not on me, Eric. But I can understand if it bothers you.”
“Look, I gave up trying to conceal my past a long time ago. I sure don’t brag about it, but if it comes out I don’t deny it. But your mom, Ashley. She’s in a new marriage.... Having an old boyfriend around...”
“I don’t think it matters anymore. But maybe you should talk to her. If you moved here, would your girlfriend come? Is it Cara? Is that her name?”
“Hmm. That ended. A couple of months back.”
“Ended? Oh, no, what happened?”
He actually smiled. “She’s a web designer, remember? She threw me over for a computer geek.”
“No way!”
“Way. She was pretty married to her computer and I was...” He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck a little self-consciously. “I’ve been putting in long hours. It’s probably my fault. I could have been more attentive.”
Ashley sat back. “You don’t seem all that broken up about it.”
“My pride was hurt. But I think our relationship ran its course and we both knew it. The truth is—I’m glad I didn’t hurt anyone. I’ve hurt enough people in my life. Which brings us back to... Ashley, I don’t want to put your mother on the spot. I don’t want her to feel backed into a corner. She’s a nice person—if I come right out and ask her if living in or near Thunder Point would be a problem for her, she’ll probably tell me to do whatever I want to do. Even if it’s not her first choice.”
“You think you could stand living in a little town like Thunder Point?”
He gave a shrug. “It’s a good little town, I remember that much. And I think I’d like running into you more often. But I’m not making any assumptions—we’re friends. You can come to me with anything, but I’m not going to try to step in as a father figure. I’m not ever going to assume any authority over you. I promise.”
“You’re very funny, Eric. It’s almost too late for anyone to have much authority over me. I’m real close to being out the door.”
“Yes, I guess you are. So—want to toss this possibility out to your mom and Mac? Give them time to think about how they want to respond?”
“I could do that. But I like the idea, if it works out for you.”
He felt a little funny. Kind of warm and fuzzy inside. He had never expected his life to take a turn like this, to have such a positive relationship with Ashley. He knew he didn’t deserve it.
Sixteen
L
aine had screwed up. The compound was shut up tighter than a tick these days. If the men were leaving and returning, she was unaware of it, and part of her job was to be aware of everything. Last night, in the middle of the night, Lorna had made her escape through the woods with two children—her two children. Jacob’s two children.
Laine hadn’t had contact with anyone on the outside for a couple of weeks. While they sold produce at their stand by the side of the road a farm woman stopped by in an old pickup truck. She was tired-looking, hump-backed, dressed in muddy jeans and worn boots. She was missing a couple of teeth and read from her list with a lisp—six apples, six pears, pint of blackberries, squash. In the lower left of this ragged slip of paper was written 9-13.
Laine knew there was no hope of getting either Pilly or Charlotte to leave so she had confronted Lorna and given her the chance. And in the morning there was no one in the kitchen because that was Lorna’s domain. Laine thought perhaps she should have gone with her, but there was one reason she just couldn’t bring herself to flee—sweet little Liam. She hoped to somehow rescue him. If she could think of a way to take Charlotte’s four-year-old as well, she would, but Liam was too little to fend for himself. And for that she paid a large price.
Jacob stormed into the house at six in the morning, his face red, his fists clenched. He looked so frightening she jumped back with a gasp. And she thought,
It’s going down.
“It’s you,” he said in a low, menacing growl. “It has to be you.”
“No,” she said. “Lorna’s gone. She must have left on her own. Or one of the men, I think. Not me! If I’d known she was going, I would have gone with her.”
Out of nowhere, his fist flew into her face, knocking her back about four feet. It was so sudden, so powerful, she was momentarily dazed. Had she guessed this might happen, she could have been better prepared, but everything they knew about Jacob was that while he could get very angry and abusive, he didn’t seem to be violent.
He came at her again and she put up her arms in defense and began to scream, which brought Pilly and Charlotte running. Jacob was delivering his first kick to her midsection when they came into the kitchen, and they ran to him, trying to pull him away, joining in the screaming. And while Laine had not really bonded with these two, the sight of her down on the floor, under assault by Jacob, must have brought them naturally to her side.
Jacob had slapped people around—he’d even been known to grab one of the women and give her a shake, but he was more inclined to rant and shout, bluster and stomp around, maybe throw something. Laine would not be here if he had a known violent streak. He was fully expected to try to fight back against the law, but this assault was shocking.
The man known as Sam came in the back door and stood in shock at what must have looked like a pile of women on the floor and an enraged Jacob. Right behind him came the man known as Joe. Between them they pulled him back and held him, but they said nothing. Jacob was rigid with rage and strained against the hold his men had on him.
Laine was so grateful that it was in character for her to cry. She was reduced to sobs; her mind buzzed from the blow. Pilly and Charlotte tried to help her sit up, but she was almost too dizzy.
“Jacob, what happened? Why are you doing this?” Pilly asked. “What did she do?”
“Lorna is gone. Lorna and the children! Someone is doing this—it has to be her. The only women left are you, Charlotte and Laine, and I
know
you two wouldn’t betray me. I
know
it!” He shook off his two men and said, “Take her across the river and tie her. Then check the fence. The
entire
fence!” Then he stormed out of the house.
The two men exchanged looks and then, apparently resigned, went to Laine and lifted her to her feet.
“Please,” she whimpered. “Please, no... I didn’t do it. I wouldn’t do that....”
“Come along now,” Sam said. “Like a good girl.”
How many Sams and Joes had worked for Jacob? she wondered. She looked beseechingly at Pilly and Charlotte who both looked shocked and scared. “Tell him I wouldn’t do that,” she begged. “Pilly, don’t let him tie me up. He’s going to hurt me.”
Laine knew better than to struggle against these two big men even if there was a chance she could get away from them. It was safer to stay in character and play her part. But to her dismay this meant that if she had a chance to flee she’d have to take it and just hope that no harm came to the two remaining women and their children. Right then Laine vowed to herself that if she got out of this place, she’d run far and fast and never look back. This wasn’t what she’d signed on for. This was supposed to be a simple fact-finding mission and when she had the information she needed, she was simply going to walk away from this compound. Then she found the guns, the pot, the danger to the children...
They tied her to a kitchen chair in Jacob’s house, her hands behind her back and her ankles bound to the chair legs. Then she heard the men talking with Jacob, telling him they were going to secure the perimeter and she thought, that sounded like police talk. But these men were not police. She heard one of them tell Jacob not to do any more damage. And then they left.
Every nerve in her body was on high alert and her heart was hammering so hard she trembled, but took comfort in the fact that this would be a normal reaction and would not raise suspicion. She watched the clock on Jacob’s oven and it ticked by slowly. She could hear him talking on the phone but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. Who could he be communicating with? she wondered. He’d led them all to believe his entire world was inside the fence; that he neither wanted nor needed anything else.
Around ten in the morning she heard a knock at his door, heard him get up and open it and heard Pilly talking to him. Her voice was faint and trembling, but Laine thought she could make out a bit of what she was saying. “Don’t do this, Jacob, you’re scaring us. Let me take her back to the house and we’ll watch her. Please, Jacob, I’ll do whatever you need, but don’t hold her prisoner.”
And then Jacob could be heard, and there was no mistaking his words. “She’s not going anywhere until I get to the bottom of this! I think it’s her and she’s ruining everything!”
There was a bit more pleading then the door closed again, presumably on Pilly’s departure. At almost two, the men were back and she distinctly heard three voices in addition to Jacob’s. And she could hear their words, which were remarkably calm.
“The breach of our security has gone too far and has involved too many people. Too many have left and they’re talking—I’d bet anything.”
“It’s time to shut it down.”
“No! I’m not giving it up!” Jacob shouted.
“We’ll never get another shipment out of here and I’m not going to jail! It’s time to follow the original plan. Burn it and leave it.”
“No! We fight back!”
“Jacob, they’re bigger than we are, and too many people have left. We can’t rely on their silence. They’re going to sell us out—these women. Burn it, and while they’re dealing with the mess and the torch, we’ll take what we can out the back way. We’ll pick up a couple of cars and get out.”
“I’m not giving it up until they’re here with a warrant. Then we can torch it!”
“I’m telling you, I’ve seen this before. If you think the town constable is coming with a warrant, you’re delusional. They’ll come with a small army. And no one’s getting away unless we get out before they try to get in. Leave the girls and their babies behind, take the cash on hand and let’s move.”
Laine cursed under her breath because that was as much of a detailed conversation as she’d ever heard among the men. And she had to pee like a racehorse.
They continued to argue, except that Jacob’s men didn’t try to get tough with him. They calmly advised him, and they were articulate. Very well-spoken drug dealers. These were businessmen. Jacob was half-loony, a self-aggrandizing fool. But the people around him, the women and the men, appeared to be intelligent and in control.
How had he managed that?
“I’m not for taking more chances. We always said we were exiting this property before it got hot. When a dozen people take off, it’s hot.”
“We have a little more time,” Jacob said.
They’re going to run,
Laine thought. And her greatest fear was that Jacob could be willing to die for it. She’d been here for months and his anger had been steadily escalating. He didn’t like the size of his tribe getting smaller.
Finally the talk stopped and the door to Jacob’s house closed. She used her small, pitiful voice. “Jacob?” she called softly. “Jacob?”
He stood in the kitchen doorway. He crossed his arms over his chest. One side of his mouth lifted in a half smile. “Something?”
“I have to... I need to use the bathroom.”
“Finally dependent on me, are you? And if I say no?”
“I’m afraid I might... I could have an accident.”
“If you piss on my floor, I’ll beat you. And you already look like bloody hell.”
Oh, he was getting dangerous. “I just want to use a bathroom, Jacob. Please.”
“I’ll think it over.” Then he turned and left her. And she put her mind in a Zen state that allowed her not to lose control. She would not invite another beating.
* * *
Devon’s next-door neighbor, Mrs. Bledsoe, was very sweet and thoughtful and not only frequently brought a half-dozen cookies over for Mercy, but a couple of times she invited Mercy over to help make them. The only family she had in the area was a twenty-eight-year-old grandson who checked on her regularly even though he had to drive from Coquille to do so. And because Mrs. Bledsoe was more than happy to watch Mercy for a little while, Devon got back into running. Well, it was more like jogging, but she did like to sprint up the hill to her house. And it felt so damn good.
Rawley wasn’t big on time off from work, but he loved it when Devon called his cell phone and asked him if he’d like to come to dinner at her little house. The one thing she couldn’t seem to break him of was bringing little gifts. Sometimes it was something inexpensive for Mercy or some item for Devon’s kitchen. Although he was deadpan if not grumbly when he came to dinner, she could tell he was delighted. And while she was neither a good cook nor extravagant at the grocery, she did try to serve things she thought he’d like. A small roast, red potatoes and green beans like the ones he’d gotten her at the Farmers’ Market. Or a meatloaf, mashed potatoes and sliced tomatoes. And, she remembered a dish of Lorna’s—sausage, squash, onion, peppers and spinach. Mercy wouldn’t eat the sausage dish but Rawley seemed to enjoy it. Or maybe he was just happy to be asked.
“Rawley, you should come to a football game with us sometime,” she said.
“Can’t. Cooper has to go on account of Landon. And I keep the bar open.”
“Does anyone show up out there when there’s a football game in town?”
“Sometimes someone comes in off the bay. But not often. I just ain’t big on a lot of people.”
“It’s really fun,” she said.
“I bought me a DVR,” he said. “I learned how to record shows and I record the sports. If you ever want to see some game...”
“I might join you sometime. But I have a confession to make. I spend some time in front of Spencer’s TV because...well, I have a boyfriend.”
And Rawley showed her a wide expanse of dentures. “Like no one knows? Chickadee, we all know you have a boyfriend. He nice to you?”
“He’s wonderful to me,” she said. “I can’t believe how much my life works right now.”
She felt that Spencer was made for her. She fought the feeling of greediness, because it would feel so good to be able to go places with him other than just Thunder Point, but that was impossible until something changed in the investigation of Jacob’s Fellowship. And to her embarrassment, she secretly wished they could become more official, like maybe a couple with some sort of future plans.
She acknowledged that was probably not the best idea in the world. They’d both just come out of difficult situations. Patience was definitely required.
But in addition to her sweet neighbor Mrs. Bledsoe, her good friend Rawley, her wondrous lover, Spencer, Devon now had girlfriends. She often went to the diner for an afternoon break because she would sometimes see Sarah and Gina, sometimes Lou and Ray Anne and Carrie. They laughed together, shared secrets, told each other things they swore secrecy on and, her favorite, exchanged town gossip.
Now when people came in the clinic, they usually said, “Hey, Devon, how’s it going?” When she went to the football games, as she made her way down the front of the bleachers to her spot with the McCains and the Coopers, people waved and sometimes yelled, “Hi, Devon, hi, Mercy!” If she crossed the street to the diner, it wasn’t unusual for a passing motorist to toot his horn and give a smile and wave. And when she ran down her street, down the hill to the marina and across the beach, almost everyone she passed raised a hand in hello. And once she heard someone say, “The coach’s girl.”
She couldn’t remember being this happy, ever. She had friends, family, love, work.
And then she screwed it up.