Authors: Geof Johnson
“Six? That’s incredible. Are you sure?”
“Yes. They have one of the largest farms in the county and they are quite successful, but their success comes on the backs of orphans instead of them paying laborers like the other farmers do.”
“Oh, my. What can you do about it?”
“I am allowed to bring council, and I am asking you to represent me.”
“Me? Why? I don’t know the first thing about the law, especially here in Rivershire.”
“But you are well-spoken and intelligent, and not easily cowed.” Mrs. Tully’s eyes were intense as she regarded Evelyn. “And you are my friend.”
“Well...I’m flattered, but wouldn’t you be better off with a lawyer?”
“I cannot afford one.”
“What if we help pay for it? I can talk to Jamie. He’d be glad to help, and if he can’t, we’ll find another way.”
“No. You are the one I want speaking on my behalf. You are the oneI trust the most. I can think of no one better.”
“Oh, gosh.” Evelyn drew in a slow breath. “Okay, if you insist, but...um...I still don’t know about the local laws on adoption.”
“I will get you the information that you need. You will be prepared.”
“God, I hope so.” Evelyn took another deep breath and nodded. “Let me tell you about our little crisis.” She related how Carl, Jamie, and John Paul had found the body of Mrs. Gundy. “And now Sammi is really scared. I don’t think she slept much last night.”
“If it gets too dangerous for her, she can always stay with me. Aiven and I will be happy to have her.”
“Thank you, but I hope it doesn’t come to that.”
* * *
Duane Gundy woke with a sneeze. He sat up on his elbows, the bed squeaking beneath him, and he felt disoriented.
Where am I?
The mattress was lumpy and sagged in the middle. The air conditioner rattled noisily beneath the only window, blowing not-quite-cool-enough damp air across his body. The place smelled moldy and musty.
He could tell by the dim morning light that the walls were covered with cheap paneling. There was a small table and a chair in one corner, and an old floor lamp with a cobweb-covered shade stood nearby. Squeezed into the far corner was a kitchenette — a three-burner electric stove, a small refrigerator, a coffee maker, and a microwave oven. Then he remembered.
I’m in a hotel
.
He’d arrived in town after dark, tired from driving without the aid of his little black pills. He’d made most of the trip from Bicksby running on adrenaline, excited about the prospect of finding Sammi, but by the time he’d reached Hendersonville, he was losing steam and nodding off behind the wheel.
The hotels near the heart of town were too expensive — the Ramada charged $129 per night for a single room — and there were no vacancies. So Gundy wasted hours driving farther and farther out, searching for an affordable place to stay, before finding a small, inexpensive inn, two miles off of the main road, halfway to Brevard. It consisted of one long row of single rooms with the tiny office attached to one end of the building, a rusted neon sign hanging at the edge of the roof and a night clerk with olive-colored skin and an accent. Normally, Gundy hated foreigners, but checked in anyway because the man accepted cash and didn’t ask any questions or look too closely.
By the time Gundy had made it to his room, he had a crushing headache and was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open. He dropped his suitcase on the floor, kicked off his shoes and flopped face first on the bed.
This feels good
, he thought
. Think I’ll rest my eyes for a few minutes and then go into town and start huntin’ for Sammi
.
Now it was morning and he still had on the same clothes from the day before. He sniffed one armpit and frowned.
Think I’ll shower and get some food
.
Gundy returned to his hotel room with two days’ worth of supplies and a map of Hendersonville. He’d bought a couple of frozen dinners, some sandwich meat and bread, donuts, coffee, beer, and cigarettes. Two days ought to be enough time to find Sammi, he figured.
On a whim, he’d also bought a local newspaper. He spread it on the small table and flipped through it while he ate a donut and waited for the coffee to brew. On the last page of the A section, a small headline caught his eye: “Bicksby Woman Found in Shallow Grave.”
Damn. How’d they find Brenda so fast?
He thought he would have several days, maybe more, before anyone became suspicious and started looking for her. He read the short article and balled his hands into fists.
They already got me as the main suspect. Damn damn damn
.
There was no picture, but there was a description of him: Five feet six inches tall, with brown hair and a short brown beard.
This could be a problem
. He rubbed his jaw, feeling the scratchy bristles of his whiskers and considering his next move.
I’m going to have to do something about my appearance. After breakfast, I gotta find a drugstore or something
.
It was a twenty minute drive to the closest Walgreens. Now Gundy stood in front of the bathroom mirror of his hotel room, a pair of short scissors in his hand and a new razor on the sink. In the bag on the floor was a box of blond hair dye. He turned his head from side to side and stroked his chin.
I’ve had this beard a long time. My scar is going to show real bad now
. He touched the ugly line of light-colored skin that curled under his jaw
. I can always cover this with some girlie makeup
.
He stared at his reflection for a long moment, took a deep breath and said, “Well, here goes,” and he put the scissors to his face and began snipping.
* * *
Sammi didn’t feel much like playing with the other kids at the Rivershire School when they went outside that morning. Instead, she sat at the picnic table with Mrs. Sikes and Mrs. Wallace and stared at her hands, twisted tightly together in her lap. The two women tried to cheer Sammi up, but Sammi didn’t feel like talking, either. After Sammi mumbled a few responses, they left her to her thoughts.
In her mind, she pictured Mrs. Gundy lying in a grave, dirt covering her face and body.
Poor Mrs. Gundy. She was so nice
. Sammi imagined Mr. Gundy heaving shovelfuls of earth on top of her without any trace of remorse.
What if she wasn’t dead yet?What if he buried her alive and she suffocated? He’s mean enough to do that. Poor, poor Mrs. Gundy
. Sammi sniffed and tears began to fill her eyes.
And it’s all because of me
.
It’s all my fault
.
She felt a light touch on her shoulder and she turned to see Leora standing next to her. “Why are you so sad, Sammi?”
Sammi couldn’t speak. Mrs. Sikes answered for her, “We got some very sad news yesterday, Leora. We found out that Mrs. Gundy, Sammi’s former foster mother, has been killed.”
“Oh!” Leora put her hand to her mouth and her eyebrows fell.
“And we think that Mr. Gundy did it, and he may be somewhere in Hendersonville now, looking for Sammi.”
Leora looked like she was about to cry, too. Mrs. Wallace said, “But we’re watching out for Sammi, and we’re not going to let anything happen to her.” She smiled reassuringly. “It’s not all bad news, though. Tonight, the Callahans have their last class, so tomorrow they can officially become Sammi’s foster parents. That is, if everything works out according to plan.”
Leora’s face brightened slightly. “That will be good. It is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
Sammi nodded and turned her face back to her lap. “Won’t be any good if Mr. Gundy gets me.”
“Why don’t you stay with me? My Ma and Pa will let you, I am sure.”
“That’s kind of you to offer, Leora,” Mrs. Sikes said, “but Sammi will have to stay with the Callahans. She has to be there for unannounced home inspections by a county official, at first. It’s one of the conditions of the fostering agreement, I’m told.”
“Oh.” Leora’s eyes grew thoughtful. “Is it all right if I sit with Sammi for a while?”
“Don’t you want to play with the other kids?”
“I’d rather stay here.”
Mrs. Wallace said it was okay, and Leora sat on the bench next to Sammi and held her hand.
* * *
It was late afternoon by the time Duane Gundy could begin his search for Sammi, and the first street on the list was Applewood Drive. When he reached it, he made a slow trip up and down its length, looking for any house that seemed promising, then parked the Camry on the side of the road at one end, lit a cigarette, and watched the cars drive past him.
It was a perfect time to be there because people were coming home from work, and Gundy eyed each vehicle carefully as it went by, hoping to find Sammi in one of them. He had a hard time focusing, though, because his gaze kept being drawn to his startling reflection in the rear-view mirror.
Damn, I look different
. His hair was bleached almost white, and he’d cut it short on the sides and spiked it with styling gel. His face was bare and it still stung from several nicks from the razor. He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully as he examined the results, his scar covered by makeup.
Won’t nobody recognize me now, but this is gonna take some getting’ used to
.
A car slowed and pulled into the driveway across the street from where he was parked. The driver and his passenger, who must’ve been his wife, gave him suspicious looks as they stepped out and walked to their front door. A few minutes later, an older woman, wearing exercise clothes and carrying a bottle of water, came by on the sidewalk and stared at him as she passed.
Think it’s time to move the car before somebody calls the cops
. As he turned the key in the ignition, he yawned cavernously and felt a sudden wave of fatigue sweep over him.
Man, I’m tired already and it ain’t even five thirty. I gotta get me some more of them black pills, fast. I need to find some tonight
.
* * *
Fred was watching television in the living room that night when her parents came through the front door.
“You’re home already?” Fred said, “It’s only eight o’clock.”
Lisa dropped her purse on the coffee table. “Miss Francesco let us go early. We finished the class material and talked for a while, and she said we were done.” Lisa rolled her eyes and sighed deeply. “Finally.”
“I think Miss Francesco’s worn out.” Larry shook his head slowly. “We all are.” He looked around the room. “Where’s Sammi?”
“She’s in the bathtub. She just got in.”
“Good.” Lisa rested her hands loosely on her hips. “Is there anything for dinner? I’m famished.”
“I’ll get it. Mrs. Sikes made a big salad with all kinds of good stuff in it.” Fred stood and headed for the kitchen. “You guys just have a seat at the table and relax.”
“Are you going to serve us?” Lisa said. “What’s the occasion?”
“Nothing special. I know you’re tired.” Fred pulled the salad and the dressing from the refrigerator, grabbed a couple of bowls, serving tongs, and forks, and took them to the table. She set everything out as her parents took their seats, then Fred joined them. “So, how was your class?”
Lisa shrugged and began filling her bowl. “We mostly just talked about Sammi and Mr. Gundy. Miss Francesco is really concerned about him, but she’s glad that Carl is our neighbor, ’cause he’s a cop, and she also likes the idea of all of us women having these Stupeyin’ pendants.” She tapped the small gold cross that hung around her neck.
Larry took the tongs from Lisa and began serving himself some salad. “You should make a pendant for Miss Francesco, Fred. She has to go into some bad neighborhoods sometimes. It’ll make her safer.”
“Oh, sure,” Fred said. “First chance I get. I’ve still got to put a hex on the permanent doorway at John Paul’s house, too.” She rubbed her lower lip with one finger while she regarded her parents. “Did, uh, Sammi say anything to you this morning?”
“As a matter of fact, she did.” Lisa set her fork down beside her bowl and looked directly at Fred. “She told me she loved me. Me and Larry both. I almost cried. Did you put her up to that?”
“No, not really.”
“Been a long time since a little girl told me that.”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that, and I realized that I should probably say it more often, so...here goes: I love you, Mom and Dad.”
“Wow,” Larry said flatly. “So heartfelt.” Then he forked some lettuce into his mouth.
Lisa shot Larry a harsh look, then turned back to Fred. “We love you too, Fred.”
“I guess that wasn’t exactly a Hallmark Card moment, was it?” Fred laughed weakly and then cleared her throat. “But...um, what I really wanted to say is that I think it’s just awesome what you and Dad are doing for Sammi, giving up your nights for the last two weeks, and taking her in to our family and everything. I know it’s a big hassle and it’ll probably be expensive, too.”
“It’s not all that expensive,” Lisa said. “Social Services will give us money to help support Sammi, and Rachel and Adele and Evelyn have been buying her clothes, so it won’t be bad.”
“Still, it’s a lot of work, and it’ll be a big change in your lifestyle. You were probably looking forward to having the house to yourselves when I go away to college.”
“Actually,” Larry said, “I think it would be too quiet. We’re not used to that, and with Sammi here, things will still be lively.”
“Really?” Fred said. “I’m surprised. But I’m glad to hear you say that.” She cleared her throat again. “But I still think it’s great that you’re doing all this for her, and, uh...I’m proud of you.”
Lisa’s eyes grew wide and she laid her hand flat against her chest as if she were trying to keep her heart from flying out. “You? Proud of
us?
”
“Yes, I am, and you don’t have to be so sarcastic.”
“Hold on,” Larry said. “Can you wait here ’til I get the video camera? I’d like to document this. I don’t think anybody will believe me if I tell them you said it.”
“Ha ha. Funny, Dad.” Fred frowned at him for a moment. “But it’s true. I think you guys are...I dunno...amazing, I guess.”
Lisa wrinkled her brow. “But you always say that we’re dorks.”
“Well, yeah, but you’re
amazing
dorks.”
* * *