Honeysuckle Summer (9 page)

He’d dealt with his share of domestic violence cases in Columbia, even a couple right here in Serenity. He’d hauled men into jail, left women battered both physically and emotionally. While each case had mattered, none had cut him as deeply as imagining it happening to Raylene.

The first chance he got that evening, he got on the computer at headquarters and pulled up the records. Typically there was only a handful of calls—and no arrests—before the one that had sent Paul Hammond to jail and Raylene into the hospital with a miscarriage. Right now the man was locked behind bars, which was a good thing, because Carter felt an overwhelming desire to teach him a few lessons about picking on someone weaker and more vulnerable.

The bad news, though, was that the man’s sentence—way too short to begin with, in Carter’s opinion—was
already running out. With time off for good behavior, he could be back on the streets in a matter of months, if not weeks. Carter wondered if Raylene knew that. He doubted it. It would be a while before the court would have to notify her of Paul’s impending release.

When Carter went off duty, he drove over to the radio station where Travis was still on the air. The door was locked, so he tapped on the studio window to get his attention. Travis held up a finger to indicate he’d be there in a minute, then put on another song and came to open the door.

“Is it okay that I’m here?” Carter asked.

“Sure. I’ll set up a few commercial-free music packages and we can talk.” He studied Carter. “Something on your mind?”

“I’ll get into it after you’ve taken care of business.”

Travis nodded. When the song ended, he hit the button for the microphone and chatted intimately with his audience, no doubt making every woman out there head for bed thinking she was on his mind.

When the next set of music was on, he turned back to Carter. “You want something to drink?” He gestured through a window in the studio to the antique red Coca-Cola cooler in the lobby. “That’s filled with soda. Sorry I don’t have anything stronger. You look as if you’ve had a tough day.”

“I’ve had better,” Carter admitted, waving off the offer of a soda.

“Then what’s up?”

Carter filled him in on the incident at the house earlier and told him what he’d found in the police records. “I assume you know about her background.”

Travis nodded. “Sarah filled me in.”

“Does she know that sick SOB is getting out of jail in the not-too-distant future?”

Travis sat up straighter, his jaw set angrily. “How soon?”

“Hard to say. I’ll check that out in the morning, but I’d say by the end of summer at the latest.”

“Damn!”

“My sentiment exactly,” Carter said. “Do you think she knows?”

Travis shook his head. “I know she doesn’t. Anytime he’s mentioned, which isn’t all that often, all she says is how thankful she is he’s locked up.”

“We need to prepare her,” Carter said. “And we need to figure out how to protect her in case he comes out of prison with a chip on his shoulder.”

Travis frowned. “You’re really worried about this, aren’t you? You don’t think he’ll have sense enough to stay the hell away? No man in his right mind would come out of jail and then do something likely to land him right back behind bars.”

Carter lifted a brow. “He didn’t have sense enough not to beat her in the first place, did he? Men like that rarely learn their lesson behind bars. They just come out angrier than ever.”

“Okay, what can I do?”

“For now just alert Sarah to what’s going on. I’ll dig around, see what kind of timetable we’re looking at. Then we can decide how to break the news to Raylene. Sarah might have some ideas about that.”

“What about protection? Do you have a plan for that?” Travis asked.

“Leave that to me,” Carter said, his tone grim.
Because if Paul Hammond wanted to get to Raylene, he’d have to go through Carter first.

Raylene opened the door late one afternoon to find Carrie on her doorstep, her expression uncertain.

“Is it okay that I’m here?”

“Of course it is. Did you come by for a cooking lesson?”

The teen shook her head. “I just wanted to visit, if it’s okay.”

“Come on in the kitchen. I’ll get us something to drink. Would you like some cookies?”

“Just some water,” Carrie said.

“I thought all kids were starving by the time they got out of school,” Raylene said.

Carrie shrugged. “Not me.”

Raylene regarded her quizzically, not really clear why Carrie had dropped in. She had a feeling, though, that it would come out when the girl was ready to talk and not before.

“It’s such a nice day, it would be great to sit outside and have our drinks, but you know I can’t do that, right?” she asked instead.

Carrie nodded. “How long have you been this way?”

“A couple of years now.”

“And you can’t go out at all? What if you get sick and need to see a doctor?”

“Thankfully I haven’t had to find out,” Raylene said. “And my psychologist comes here.” She studied the teen. “You knew I was seeing someone about the panic disorder, didn’t you?”

“Carter told me.” She hesitated, then asked, “Is it
hard? I mean, telling someone everything that’s going on in your head?”

“Sometimes,” Raylene admitted. “But it’s the only way she can help me.”

“I don’t know if I could do that,” Carrie said. “You know, just spill my guts to a stranger.”

Raylene bit back a smile. “Actually a lot of people find it easier to talk to a complete stranger. They don’t judge you. Besides, Dr. McDaniels is trained to listen and to ask the right kinds of questions. Sometimes I find myself saying things before I even realize they were on my mind.”

“I wish I had someone I could talk to like that,” Carrie said wistfully. “Carter tries, but he’s a guy.”

“If something’s bothering you, you could talk to me,” Raylene suggested.

For a split second Carrie looked hopeful, but then her face fell. “But you’d have to tell Carter.”

“I would if it was something serious,” she conceded. “But I’d do my best to keep whatever you say strictly confidential.”

“But a shrink, somebody I pay, they’d have to keep it to themselves, right?”

“I’m not sure,” Raylene admitted. “Carter’s your guardian. In that case, even a psychologist might have to tell him if it was something he needed to know.” She reached across the table and covered Carrie’s tightly clenched fist. “What’s this about, sweetie? Whatever it is, don’t keep it bottled up inside. If you don’t want to tell me or Carter, then I can arrange for you to see Dr. McDaniels.”

“But Carter would have to know that, too,” Carrie said, sounding defeated. Suddenly she started to cry.
“Everything’s such a mess, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Raylene gathered the teen into her arms and held her. “Whatever’s going on, I know it must seem overwhelming, but there’s not a problem in the world that can’t be solved. You just have to ask for help. You know your brother would do anything he possibly can to make sure you’re happy.”

“I know,” she said with a sniff. She took the tissue Raylene held out to her and wiped her nose. “But he’s trying so hard to take care of me and Mandy. He even gave up his job to move here because he thought it would be better for us to grow up in a small town.”

She hesitated, then blurted, “But it’s not better, it’s worse. I’m miserable. My whole life is spinning out of control. I hate school. I miss my friends. I miss Mom and Dad. I miss going to the mall and hanging out.” She regarded Raylene with watery eyes. “And I sound like a selfish brat, when I know it’s not easy for Carter or Mandy, either.”

“You’re not being selfish,” Raylene told her. “You’re just trying to adjust to something that would be very difficult for anyone. Losing a parent is never easy. I still haven’t entirely gotten over my dad’s death. I can’t begin to imagine what it would have been like to lose both parents at once, especially at your age.”

“Still, I need to suck it up,” Carrie said. “I can’t dump all this on my brother when he’s doing the best he can.”

“I think you’d be surprised by how much of this he’d understand,” Raylene told her. “He’s a pretty intuitive, compassionate man.”

Carrie looked surprised by her assessment. “Carter? He’s usually clueless.”

“Well, in my experience, he’s figured some things out without me having to say a word. I’m willing to bet he has some idea of how you’re feeling, too. Talk to him, Carrie. Give him a chance to help.”

“Maybe,” Carrie said. She hesitated, then asked, “Do you have to tell him I barged in here today?”

“Not if you don’t want me to,” Raylene said. “And you didn’t barge in. You have a standing invitation. I do think, though, that you ought to tell him yourself that you dropped by. Keeping secrets, even little ones like this, can create problems.”

“I suppose,” Carrie said, her expression doubtful. Eventually, she nodded. “Okay, I’ll tell him I stopped by to visit, but that’s all.”

“Good. That way I can send some lasagna home with you for dinner.”

Carrie gave her a knowing look. “Are you trying to win my brother by cooking for him?”

Raylene laughed. “No. I just love to cook, and I always make way too much. If you like the lasagna, let me know, and I’ll teach you how to make it yourself.”

Carrie immediately shook her head. “It’s too fattening for me, but I know Mandy and Carter will love it. They eat like pigs.”

It wasn’t the first time Raylene had gotten a nagging feeling that Carrie might have an eating disorder. At first she’d told herself that because of her experience years ago with Annie, she was overreacting, but now, especially in light of their earlier conversation about seeing a psychologist, she had to wonder. Maybe Carrie had even recognized herself that she had a problem that went beyond her dissatisfaction with her life in Serenity. The compassion
Raylene had felt earlier was now tinged with a sense of urgency.

“There’s nothing wrong with having a healthy appetite,” Raylene said casually, hoping to make her point without putting Carrie on the defensive. “Too many young women start obsessing about weight when they don’t need to.”

“Yeah, Carter gets on my case about that,” Carrie admitted openly. “He just doesn’t know what it’s like for girls, though.”

“But I have some idea,” Raylene told her. “So does my friend Annie.”

“The one who’s married to the ballplayer, Ty Townsend?”

Raylene nodded. “Did you know that she had a severe problem with anorexia when she was about your age?”

Carrie looked skeptical. “Really?”

“She did,” Raylene said, then added bluntly, “It almost killed her.”

Carrie looked alarmed for just an instant, but then her expression closed down. “You’re just saying that to scare me.”

“No,” Raylene said emphatically. “You can talk to her yourself. Her heart quit, and she ended up in the hospital. It was touch-and-go for a few days. I was there the night she collapsed. It was pretty awful.”

Looking shaken, Carrie immediately stood up. “I have to go home,” she said.

“Wait. Let me get that lasagna,” Raylene said, but Carrie had already gone.

Obviously talking about Annie had upset her even more than the conversation about her dissatisfaction
with her life. Raylene found the entire exchange upsetting. She didn’t want to be an alarmist, but Annie’s experience had proved that anorexia wasn’t something that could be ignored for long. She knew, though, that for Carter to believe her, she’d need more evidence, perhaps even a situation in which he could see Carrie’s behavior and judge it for himself.

School would be out soon, and the Fourth of July holiday was just a few weeks away. Usually it was Ronnie and Dana Sue, along with Annie and Ty, who hosted a barbecue after the town’s annual parade. Since Raylene couldn’t go, maybe she’d explain the situation to Annie and they could move the barbecue here. If nothing else, it would throw Carrie and Annie together. If Carrie was in trouble, Annie would pick up on it right away.

And then Annie and Raylene together would have to find a way to help Carter deal with the problem before it went spinning out of control and quite literally destroyed his sister’s life.

C
arter’s day had gone from bad to worse. After a fairly routine morning, he’d started the afternoon dealing with a fatal crash on one of the rural roads outside of town. A teenager going too fast on his way home from school had missed a curve, hit a tree and died on the scene.

Every time he handled a call like that, he felt an urgent need to rush home and check on Carrie and Mandy. He knew they were both sick of his lectures about driving too fast, but he felt the lesson had to be repeated if it was ever to sink in. Thankfully, neither of them had a license yet, but it was only a matter of time.

After facing the boy’s parents to tell them what had happened, he went back to the station where he found a voice-mail message from the prison saying that Paul Hammond’s release was tentatively scheduled for August. There seemed to be little chance that it would be postponed. He’d been a model citizen, the caller reported, using his time in prison to provide medical care for other inmates. As Carter saw it, that could be good news or bad. If it proved he’d learned his lesson, great, but it was just as likely that he’d simply manipulated the system to look favorably on an earlier release.

By the time Carter finally wrapped up for the day and walked into the house, all he wanted to do was take a hot shower, order in some food and relax. Instead, he found Carrie and Mandy in the middle of an argument that escalated into tears and doors slamming. Just what he needed.

Sighing, he followed Mandy to her room and tapped on the door. “Go away,” she mumbled tearfully.

“Not an option,” he said, and walked in.

She sat up and made room for him on the side of her bed. “I thought you were Carrie.”

“My hair’s shorter,” he joked.

That drew a faint smile.

“So what’s going on with you two?” he asked.

“She’s just being a pain, that’s all,” Mandy said, snuggling against his side and leaning her head on his shoulder. “Raylene left a message about having lasagna for us, so I rode my bike over to get it, and Carrie freaked out.”

“Why?”

Mandy shrugged. “I have no idea. Anyway, she said she wouldn’t eat it if it were the last meal on earth. Like I care whether she eats or not.” She regarded him hopefully. “You and me, we can have it, though, right? It looks really good. Raylene says it just needs to be heated in the oven for a half hour or so. I can do that, while you change. She even gave me garlic bread to go with it.”

“Sounds good to me. You go and do that. I’ll see if I can figure out what’s going on with Carrie.”

“It’s a waste of time, if you ask me,” Mandy said.

“Trying to keep the two of you happy is never a waste of my time,” Carter chided. It was just a challenge.

He crossed the hall and tapped on Carrie’s door. She didn’t even bother to answer. He opened it and walked in to find her with her face buried in a pillow and her shoulders still shaking with sobs. He sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Go away,” she said, her voice muffled.

“You know that never works with me,” he chided. “What’s going on? Why were you and Mandy fighting about lasagna, of all things?”

“It wasn’t about lasagna,” Carrie said, sitting up and turning to him with an indignant expression. “Is that what she told you?”

“What’s your version?”

“It was about her sneaking off to Raylene’s house just to check up on me.”

Carter frowned. “To check up on you? Were you over there?”

She flushed at the question. Apparently she hadn’t realized how revealing her comment had been. “I stopped by,” she said defensively. “But I’m sure
she
told you that.”

“She who? Mandy? She didn’t mention it.”

“No, Raylene,” Carrie said impatiently. “She probably told you every word I said.”

“I haven’t spoken to Raylene all day, but something tells me I need to.”

Carrie flushed and grabbed his arm. “No, don’t,” she pleaded. “She promised she wouldn’t tell you anything, and I guess she didn’t. I’m sorry I accused her of being a blabbermouth.”

Carter regarded her with bewilderment. “Carrie, what’s going on? What did you and Raylene talk about?”

“Just stuff,” she said evasively. “She told me to tell
you, so it’s not like she’s going behind your back or keeping stuff from you.”

“What is it she thinks you should tell me?”

She hesitated, her expression miserable. “That my life sucks,” she admitted in a small voice. She gave him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Carter. Really, really sorry. I know you didn’t want to wind up stuck with me and Mandy, and I know you’re trying, but I hate everything about this boring town and the people here and my whole, stupid life.”

Carter felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. He’d known she wasn’t happy about the move, but he’d figured she would adjust. Teenagers had a tendency to overdramatize everything, so he probably hadn’t taken her frequent complaints seriously enough.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “How can we make this better for you?”

She looked at him hopefully. “Move back to Columbia,” she suggested.

He shook his head. “Other than that.”

“You won’t even consider it?”

“No, this is our home now. I’m going to start a police department for Serenity. I’ve made a commitment to the town, and I take that seriously.”

“I know,” she said, looking defeated. “I thought maybe you’d consider it before, but I knew it was too late now.”

“Meaning?”

“Before, it was like you just had this job with the sheriff’s department, no big deal. Now you’re going to be chief of your own department, and that’s really cool. And there’s Raylene, and I know you like her. You have everything you want right here. But what do I have? Nothing. Not even any friends.”

“You’ll make friends here,” he said. “It just takes a little time in a new school.” Despite his very deep reservations, he held out the promise of something he knew she wanted. “Maybe you can even find a summer job, so you can save up for a car.”

For a fleeting instant, her eyes lit up. “You’d let me have my own car?”

“By the time you’ve saved enough money, I think you’ll be ready for it,” he said.

“In other words, it’ll take forever,” she said, looking defeated. “My life sucks.”

She did, in fact, look so unhappy that he couldn’t help feeling a certain amount of pity for her. Even if the move had been for the best, it must have been hell being uprooted from the home and neighborhood she’d always known and the friends she’d had since grade school.

“Why don’t we go to Columbia this weekend,” he suggested impulsively. “We can get rooms at a hotel with a pool and you can invite some of your friends over. We’ll see a movie, too. You and Mandy can pick it. I’ll even suffer through a chick flick, if that’s what you want.”

She giggled at that, and for just a minute she reminded him of the carefree girl she’d been before they’d lost their folks.

“Okay,” she said grudgingly. “Can we eat all the candy in the minibar?”

“At those prices?” he said with exaggerated horror, then grinned. “What the heck! Go for it. Just this once.”

She threw her arms around him then. “You’re the best big brother in the entire world.”

“I try,” he said.

Her expression immediately sobered. “I know you do, and I promise not to be a pain all the time.”

“You’re not a pain all the time,” he told her with a grin.

“But when I am, I’m a big one,” she said.

“True.”

She laughed.

“Come downstairs and have dinner,” he said. “If Raylene sent it over, it’s bound to be better than anything we could order.”

For a minute, he thought the mention of the lasagna was going to start another argument, but instead she nodded. “I’ll be right there.”

Carter left her room feeling as if he’d negotiated a very tricky and temporary truce between two warring factions. He hoped dinner went smoothly, because he wasn’t sure he had sufficient energy in reserve to go another round.

And he still had to come up with some way to tell Raylene that she had less than two months before her ex-husband was going to be released from prison.

Raylene decided the best way to handle her suspicions that Carrie might have an eating disorder would be to get the Sweet Magnolias on the case. The day after Carrie’s visit, she started making the calls midmorning and had everything lined up for a margarita night by lunchtime.

When Sarah arrived home in the afternoon, she brought all the ingredients for the margaritas, along with everything Raylene had requested to make a new burrito recipe.

“I think we’re getting to the point that guacamole isn’t enough to counteract the effects of all that tequila,” she told Sarah. “We need real food.”

“Works for me,” Sarah said. “So, what’s going on? Why the call for an emergency gathering?”

“I’ll explain tonight. In the meantime, though, I need to see how you’d feel about hosting the Fourth of July barbecue here this year.”

Sarah looked startled by the suggestion. “But Dana Sue and Ronnie have always had it. Don’t you think their feelings will be hurt if we steal it away from them?” Her expression immediately fell. “Sorry. I know you miss out every year, so of course we should have it here this time.”

“Honestly, it’s not about me,” Raylene told her. “I had a very disturbing conversation with Carrie Rollins this afternoon. I think she could be anorexic, or at least she might be on the verge of developing an eating disorder. I want an opportunity for Annie and Dana Sue especially to observe her behavior to see if I’m right.”

Sarah regarded her worriedly. “Shouldn’t you just mention it to Carter and let him take it from there? He might not appreciate your meddling.”

“I would, but it’s a pretty serious thing to say about someone. I want to be sure. He’s got a lot to handle as it is. There’s no point in upsetting him if it turns out I’m overreacting.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think you’re likely to over-react about something like this. You and I were there with Annie. We both still feel a certain amount of guilt for not jumping in sooner to tell Dana Sue what we thought was happening.”

“We were kids,” Raylene said. “We didn’t go running to parents to tattle on our friends. And just about everyone we knew was dieting, so for a long time it
didn’t seem as if Annie’s behavior was unique or out of control.”

“Still, we should have spoken up when we did realize what was happening,” Sarah said. “If Annie had died…” She shuddered, much as Raylene did when the same thought occurred to her.

“She didn’t die, thank God,” Raylene said fiercely. “But it certainly taught us all a valuable lesson about not ignoring possible eating disorders.”

“You’re right,” Sarah agreed. “Are you sure you can handle all this by yourself on the Fourth? Travis and I will be at the radio station all morning covering the parade.”

“Not a problem. I’m sure some of the others will pitch in to set things up in the backyard. I’ll just have to cook and coordinate everything.”

“Maybe you’ll be able to come onto the patio by then,” Sarah suggested, her expression optimistic. “These little two-minute forays have gone pretty well. In another couple of weeks, who knows how long you’ll be able to stay outside.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Raylene said, though her own optimism had grown with each step she’d taken back into the outside world. “But, like you said, who knows? Maybe I’m due for a minimiracle.”

That’s certainly what it was going to take for her to spend a whole evening on the patio. Still, this barbecue wasn’t about her. Right now she needed to focus on Carrie and what she needed.

As soon as Raylene described her fears about Carrie Rollins, all of the Sweet Magnolias were immediately on board with moving the Fourth of July event to Sarah’s house.

Dana Sue seemed especially upset by the possibility that Carrie was anorexic. Annie moved to her mother’s side.

“I’m right here, Mom. Fit as a fiddle,” Annie told her.

Dana Sue squeezed her hand. “But you almost weren’t. Just look at all you would have missed—being married to Ty, raising his son, having Meg, your career as a sports-injury therapist and fitness instructor.”

“It’s not as if the world couldn’t live without another fitness instructor,” Annie said half-jokingly.

“Stop it,” Maddie chimed in. “You provide an important service to a lot of women who need help staying fit. They might complain bitterly while they’re exercising, but all of the women you work with at the club leave there feeling better about themselves.”

“I know that,” Annie conceded. “I suppose I’m trying to diminish it out of guilt. I was out on maternity leave for months. I felt as if I’d abandoned them. Some of them worked with Elliott, but a lot of them just quit. I failed them.”

“If they quit, it was their choice,” Maddie reminded her. “You didn’t even stay away half as long as we were expecting you to. You couldn’t wait to get back to work.”

“Yes, she was anxious to get that gorgeous body of hers back into shape right away,” Sarah said. “Of course, Ty’s so taken with her shapeliness, she’ll probably end up pregnant again!”

Annie rolled her eyes. “Let’s try to concentrate on Carrie, okay? Do you think I should sit her down and have a talk with her?”

Raylene shook her head. “I thought about that, but it’s not our place to charge in to the rescue. If we decide
there’s a problem, I’ll tell Carter and then offer to have you or Dana Sue talk to Carrie or set up something with Dr. McDaniels. Carter will have to take it from there, unless he wants more help from us. Agreed?”

Annie frowned. “What if he’s in denial? If Carrie’s like I was, she’s probably pretty good at covering up what’s going on. And if he asks her directly, she’ll only lie. I did.”

Dana Sue nodded. “Then we have to gang up on him and
insist
he get help for Carrie. If we honestly believe there’s a problem, we can’t just turn it over to him and walk away. I can’t, in good conscience, do that. Not when I know the possible consequences of doing nothing. I had to almost lose Annie before I realized just how deep my own denial was.”

“Carter will get her help,” Raylene said confidently. “He takes his responsibility as her big brother and guardian very seriously.”