Читать книгу Right Where We Belong - Бренда Новак - Страница 11
ОглавлениеGavin had no idea what Savanna had been through. He thought she might open up, talk about it as the day wore on, but she didn’t. She hadn’t even given him her last name. The only thing he knew was that whatever trauma she’d suffered had left a deep scar. He’d never had a woman tell him she was hoping to change her sexuality so that she’d never have to deal, on an intimate basis, with another man. He was fairly certain she hadn’t been entirely serious, but still. Even the kids didn’t mention their father, and yet Savanna had admitted the missing member of their family had been part of it until quite recently.
What had gone so terribly wrong?
He wondered the whole time he was building the makeshift bridge. Fortunately, since the structure wasn’t intended to be permanent, it didn’t take him long.
He laid the two-by-twelves across the water, created a support on each side so they wouldn’t slip and lashed them together to keep them stable. Then he drove the van over to the house to be sure it was safe, and stayed to help unload the furniture and boxes.
Together with the kids, he and Savanna made several trips before he managed to convince her to let him finish up so that she could go in and start cleaning. He’d recently moved. He knew how difficult it was to get organized—and he’d had only himself to worry about.
Branson and Alia helped if he found something small they could carry. When he put the last box on the worn and ripped carpet of the living room, he stood back to survey the scene. “So, what do you think of the house?”
Savanna had started in the kitchen—was cleaning out the drawers and cupboards. Too bad the place wasn’t in better shape. She had to be overwhelmed by the enormity of the task ahead.
“I’ll make it work,” she said, but her smile seemed forced. They’d discovered earlier that someone had broken in and stolen a few things, so she didn’t even have a stove.
“You can use my kitchen until you get yours up and running,” he told her. “I’m not home during the week, so it’s not as if you’ll be in my way.”
She’d been kneeling on the floor. She stood, wearing rubber gloves and holding a wet rag, and used her forearm to move a piece of hair out of her face. “I appreciate that. I’m sure things will come together here quicker than it seems, though.”
He had to admire her stubborn optimism, but the land was worth more than the house. Part of him wondered if she wouldn’t be smarter to tear it down and start over. “On the bridge...”
“What about it?” She’d already given him cash for the wood.
“What I built will only get you through the next few days, so don’t wait too long before replacing it. I know a guy—James Glenn—who’d be ideal for that sort of thing.” He found a pencil and a business card on the counter, left by the Realtor who’d sold the property, and jotted down James’s number using the contact record in his phone. “He’ll give you a fair price, and he works fast.”
“I’ll give him a call.”
“Great. I’m going to take off.”
She caught him before he could leave. “Why not stay a little longer? I was thinking of ordering pizza. I’m sure you’ve got to be hungry, too. You’ve been helping me for hours.”
“Stay!” Branson cried.
Gavin mussed his hair. “I can’t. But thanks.”
“I feel like I have to do something for you,” Savanna said. “You’ve done so much for me.”
He arched an eyebrow at her. “We’ve already discussed this.”
“We’re talking a few slices of pizza...”
“Another time. I’ve got plans tonight.”
“Oh.” She seemed embarrassed to have pushed it. “No problem.”
He couldn’t tell if she was disappointed he couldn’t stay, but he sort of wanted her to be. As he’d told her at the creek, he found her attractive. And it wasn’t just her looks. There was something about her he liked, and he’d felt it from the first moment he’d chased her down before she could run into the creek.
He went back and added his phone number under James Glenn’s on that card. “Call me if you need anything. I can make a run to the dump, when you’re ready. You’ll need some way to dispose of all the trash and other junk that’s accumulated.”
“That’s really nice of you.”
“I’m a nice guy,” he said with a grin.
When she met his eyes, she blushed and glanced away.
“When do you have to return the van?” he asked.
“I was hoping to take it back today, but I have to drop it off in LA, where I also need to buy a car, and it’s getting too late for that. So...I’ll pay for another day and take it tomorrow.”
“That’s a good idea. What kind of car do you plan to get?”
Not a van. Anything except a van. “An SUV would be ideal—if I can only find one I can afford.”
“Good luck with that.”
She walked him to the door. “Thanks again. I don’t know what I would’ve done without your help.”
“We all need a hand now and then.”
He had to grab a sandwich, take a shower, pack up his gear and make the twenty-minute drive to the bar where he’d be playing, but when he got home, he made the sandwich and went to his computer instead. If what Savanna and her children had been through was traumatic enough to make her believe she’d never want to be with another man, he thought it might be serious enough to be reported in the news, especially because she’d made an odd comment when describing her ideal lesbian partner—something about wanting a woman who abhors violence.
A search for Nephi, Utah, brought up a link with some general information on the town. Essentially an all-white population (ninety-seven percent). Mostly married (over sixty percent). First settled by Mormons. Only 3,600 people, so even smaller than Silver Springs. Not a lot of industry. Everything of any real interest seemed to be located in the Provo/Orem area about an hour north, or even farther in Salt Lake City.
He clicked off that page and typed in “Nephi, UT, crime,” and learned that the overall crime rate was one percent higher than the national average. From what he could tell, that was mostly due to drug busts and burglaries. Nothing too serious. At least, that was what he assumed until he stumbled across an article in the Times-News that reported a couple of rapes.
Two women had been attacked in Nephi—one who was walking to a waitressing job in the early morning, and one who was carrying her laundry down to the basement of her apartment building late at night a week later. Both victims claimed their attacker had worn a mask and wielded a knife, that he’d cursed and screamed the whole time not to look at him. And, like many rapists, he’d threatened to come back and kill them if they went to the police.
The investigation had been exhaustive, but the police kept coming up empty-handed—until DNA testing confirmed that the crimes were linked to a third incident in Springville, near Provo. Then the detectives knew the rapist was working in a much bigger area and cast a wider net.
Gavin searched for other articles on the same crimes and found one that indicated a woman in Provo had reported some guy lurking about her Mormon church one night after choir practice. He left without approaching her, but he spooked her enough that she jotted down his license plate number. That was what had focused the investigation on one particular suspect.
Yet another article indicated that someone had finally been arrested for those assaults: Gordon Gray, a thirty-year-old white male who was a husband and father.
There it was. The perpetrator had a wife and children. That fit. The suspect had operated in and around Nephi. That fit, too. And Savanna had mentioned that her ex-husband’s name was Gordon, which wasn’t all that common. Everything fit. She’d been married to a man who’d assaulted three women. The victims were complete strangers to Gordon Gray and to each other, which was what had made it so difficult to catch him, but police had plenty of evidence and were now working to see if they could link Gray to more unsolved cases.
Gavin rocked back. Holy shit. No wonder Savanna wanted to become a lesbian. She’d been living with—and had children with—a man who was a violent criminal. Had Gordon mistreated her, too?
Gavin wanted to read more about the situation from which his new neighbor had apparently fled, but if he didn’t get showered, he’d be late for No Good Pete’s. Then he might not be able to get any gigs.
“A rapist,” he murmured, still shocked as he pulled off his shirt. How had the beautiful woman moving in next door gotten involved with a guy like that? And had she realized, at some point, that there was something wrong with him—or had it all come as a surprise?
* * *
Reese called after the kids were in bed. “Hey, you never let me know when you got in last night.”
Savanna had forgotten to notify him. She’d had so much on her mind. That she’d have to keep the moving van another day before she could get to LA to return it and buy a car, which would stretch her budget when she was trying to cut every corner. That, after what Gavin had said about the condition of the house, it might be worse than she was expecting, which had turned out to be the case. That her neighbor might not return to help her cross the creek after what she’d said about students of a boys ranch. That her mother-in-law’s threats might turn into more than a turn of phrase if Gordon didn’t get convicted. And then, of course, underneath it all, the big question—the question of whether she was doing the right thing in the first place.
“Sorry,” she said. “It’s been crazy.”
“In what way? You’re there, aren’t you? And the kids are okay?”
She was working from the floor again. She’d cleaned out the cupboards and unpacked her silverware and dishes. Now she was organizing and putting away her pots and pans. “Yeah, we’re here and everyone’s fine.”
“Well? Was it what you were expecting?”
“Not entirely.” She was so tired she could hardly move, but she intended to finish the kitchen so she could go to bed feeling she’d made a strong start. “Silver Springs is amazing, though. I can’t believe it hasn’t been voted one of America’s top places to live. Or...maybe it has. I never check those things.”
“What makes it so great?”
“It’s nestled in this pretty valley only an hour or so from the sea. It’s clean and stylish and feels far more friendly than Nephi—although I’ve only met two people, so as far as friendly goes I don’t really know,” she added with a laugh.
“You used to like Nephi.”
She hadn’t hated it in the beginning. That was where Gordon’s grandmother had lived and, disappointed in her only daughter, she’d left Gordon the equity in her house when she passed. Given that his job required him to be in central Utah, and living in Nephi saved him significant time on the road, they’d stayed instead of trying to sell so they could remain in Midvale, a suburb of Salt Lake, where they’d lived for the first part of their marriage. “Not at the end.”
“I hope this place will treat you better.”
“I have an exceptionally nice neighbor, so that’s a start.” She remembered Gavin saying he found her attractive and couldn’t help smiling. Hearing those words come from such a handsome and charismatic man felt good. But that was only because it’d been so long since she’d been seen as anything other than a tired wife and mother, she told herself. She was flattered, not truly excited, even though she had to admit that she found him attractive, too.
“I was under the impression from the way Dad talked and the pictures he sent that the ranch house was out in the country,” Reese said.
It required some effort to draw her mind back to the conversation. For a change, she was preoccupied by something other than Gordon’s crimes. That was a relief in and of itself. “It is. I’m pretty sure Gavin’s place used to be part of the original ranch and was recently split off and converted from something else—a barn or tackle house. It’s not big, but it’s cool. Fits him in that way.”
“Meaning Gavin’s cool?”
Reese pounced on her last sentence right away, making her wish she hadn’t included that information. But Gavin was cool—even a little exotic from her perspective. Given the homogenous sector of people she’d circulated among in Utah for so long, he stood out. Not only were the people of Nephi mostly white, they were mostly the same religion and political persuasion, which was different from the diversity she’d known growing up in California. She’d never lived in Silver Springs before, and yet she felt a strong sense of having come home. “Yeah.”
“How old is your neighbor?”
“Didn’t ask, but I would guess he’s about my age.”
“I take it he’s single...”
“I got that impression.” She hoped Gavin wasn’t the kind of douchebag who would say what he did if he had a girlfriend...
Her brother took a few seconds to consider her answer before responding. “Is he attractive?”
She wished she’d never mentioned him. She hadn’t meant to send her brother into full alert. “In his own way. I mean...he’s not the athletic type—like you and Gordon. Not what I go for. He’s more...the rock star type.”
“That’s interesting.”
She felt her face heat as if she’d given something away, which was a ridiculous reaction. What was there to give away? Gavin had told her he found her attractive—really attractive (she couldn’t help recalling the emphasis he’d placed on that word), but she hadn’t encouraged him. She was just embarrassed because the conversation she’d had with Gavin at the creek hadn’t been a normal conversation for two people who were nearly strangers.
“Not as interesting as you seem to think,” she said in an attempt to back away from the subject. “I’m grateful he’s been so nice. That’s all. If he hadn’t helped me get over the creek, I could still be at the motel where I had to stay last night. That’s the other person I met. The motel manager. He was middle-aged and balding.” Not nearly as appealing as Gavin, but then she’d never met another man who’d interested her quite so quickly.
“You had to cross a creek?” Reese said.
“Not a very big one, but you can’t drive a moving van through it. The bridge was gone, washed out in the last big rain.”
“That must not have come as a pleasant surprise.”
“Could’ve been worse.” She shuddered to think how the night would’ve ended had Gavin not scraped himself up in order to save her from getting stuck.
“What about the house? Will you be able to stay there?”
She shifted so that she could get off her knees and sit cross-legged as she surveyed the kitchen. She’d been trying not to let the condition of the place get her down. It didn’t matter what it looked like now, she’d put everything in order, make it comfortable. But since her father had sent those pictures, several of the windows had been broken, the back door had been kicked in, someone had shot a rifle or some other kind of gun at several of the lighting fixtures, which had also put holes in the walls, and the stove and dishwasher had been stolen. Replacing those items on top of renovating the house would eat up even more of her budget. As far as appliances went, she’d brought only her washer and dryer from Nephi, since her refrigerator had needed to be replaced, anyway. Thank goodness Gavin had had a dolly with which to unload them. The entire drive, she’d been stressed about how she was going to get the heavier items into the house. She’d only been able to get them on the truck in the first place because she’d recruited help from her neighbor in Nephi. “I have my work cut out for me. No way to sugarcoat that. And you should see the mess that’s been left behind. There’re cigarette butts and beer cans everywhere, not to mention evidence of animals.”
“That won’t take too long to clean up. Do you have heat?”
“No.”
“You didn’t call ahead and get the utilities turned on?”
“I did. There’s something wrong with the heater. Fortunately, it’s warm enough this time of year—in this area—that we’ll be okay during the day, and when it chills off at night—” like it was now “—I can pile blankets on the kids.”
“You need to get that fixed.”
“I’ll have someone take a look at it.” She hoped it was only a blown fuse. Replacing the whole unit would be expensive.
“Is the town big enough to have the goods and services you’ll need?”
“They’ll have some things. For others, I’ll have to go to Santa Barbara or LA. Anyway, getting the heater checked is way down my list. First, I have to buy a refrigerator and a stove, so I can cook.”
“You don’t have a stove?”
“Someone stole it.”
“What about a microwave?”
“There was one, but that’s gone, too.”
“Damn it, Savanna. You should’ve waited until I could come with you.”
“I had to leave right away,” she said. “I was getting so defensive in Nephi I couldn’t function.”
He sighed into the phone. “I know, but now you’re even farther from me than you were before—”
“No, it’s almost the exact same distance. I checked.” She’d been nervous about putting more miles between them.
“Still, it sounds like you’re in a big mess, and I’ve got finals and can’t do anything to help.”
“We’ll be okay.” At least she wouldn’t have to worry about running into one of her husband’s victims, or having her ex-mother-in-law show up to start another argument. Here she was on her own, but she was no different than anyone else, would have a chance to heal in an emotionally safe environment.
Reese lowered his voice. “I know Branson, especially, is struggling with everything that’s happened. Do you think he’ll be able to adjust?”
She thought of the bed-wetting they’d been dealing with since Gordon was arrested. “I do.”
“Maybe you should get him some therapy.”
“I should get us all therapy, but there’s no money for that.”
“Have you heard from Gordon?”
Like his mother, her ex had tried calling her many times, as many times as he could use the phone in jail. But after the first few days, when her faith had completely given way and she’d broken down and screamed her rage and anger at him as he begged her to ignore the proof she’d been shown—which she couldn’t—she’d stopped accepting his calls, too. That was when he’d started writing her long, rambling letters pledging his love and pleading his innocence. The last one had insisted that he’d found God, that he was attending daily Bible study and was praying that she’d be able to see that the police had the wrong man.
She hadn’t bothered to write back. She felt too conflicted when she communicated with him, hadn’t even told him—or his mother—that she was taking the kids and moving to California. She’d simply packed up and left as soon as possible. She planned to get a new phone number, too—to cut every tie that still attached her to Gordon. But all of that took time and attention to detail, and right now she was buried in far more basic tasks. “Not in the last couple of days,” she said.
“What about Dorothy?”
“Of course. She texted me again yesterday.”
“What’d she want this time?”
“More of the same. She’s desperate to get me to pay for his attorneys.”
“How can she still believe he’s innocent?”
“I’m not sure she cares if he’s innocent. His victims don’t matter to her. She wants to save her baby.”
“After all the shit she put him through in the past, it’s shocking she’s so defensive now.”
Savanna saw a spider crawling across the floor and jumped up. She hated spiders. “Ironic, isn’t it? And yet she claims I’m ruining his life. She got to him long before I did.”
“What about his father? Do you think he’ll step in and try to help?”
With a shudder of revulsion, she swept the spider into her dustpan and hurried to take it outside. “No. Gordon’s never gotten along with Ken. Once he left Dorothy, he never looked back.” What happened to Gordon when he was a child wasn’t fair. Both of his parents had let him down—and now he’d passed on the favor. “I feel bad for him when I think of his past, but that doesn’t change the present. I have to do what I can to save my sanity so that I can support our kids.”
“Branson and Alia are great. They’re going to make it through this and so will you.”
That spider had unsettled her, made her more cognizant of the dirt and all she had to accomplish to make this place into a home. “I hope that’s true, given we don’t have any choice.”
“Will you return to Utah for the trial?”
“No. I don’t want to go back for anything.”
“I thought there was some question about whether you’d testify.”
“Detective Sullivan once asked me if I’d be willing to take the stand and talk about how secretive Gordon was—and how much he was gone. Sullivan wanted me to confirm that Gordon wasn’t at home when the attacks took place, but they have my sworn statement, which lays it all out, and the forensic evidence is far more damning than anything I’d have to say. I suppose they could contact me if they feel the trial isn’t going well and ask me to come, but right now it doesn’t appear they need me.”
“Will you be able to do it if they ask?”
“I don’t know, to be honest. I’d rather not be involved.”
“I don’t blame you.”
After that, they talked about having him come visit once the semester ended so he could help fix a few things. But he also worked as a bartender and couldn’t jeopardize his job, wasn’t sure how many days he’d be able to get off.
“I’ll see what I can do and let you know,” he promised before ending the call.
Once they’d disconnected, Savanna finished unpacking the kitchen. Then she walked down to the end of the drive to see if her neighbor had come home. Why she was curious enough to make the effort when she was so tired, she couldn’t say. She just couldn’t quit thinking about him. She supposed she was romanticizing him a little bit, since it was much more fun to think about this new person in her life than all the dark things she’d been thinking about for the past couple of months. Occasionally, she even caught herself wondering what it would be like to kiss a man who had facial hair. Gordon had hated beards and mustaches—even goatees—so he’d never worn one.
Would she feel the hair on Gavin’s face or only his full, soft-looking lips? And what would a man who had long hair and tattoos be like in bed?
I like it soft and gentle, and I won’t get in the way of your search for a lesbian partner.
That she felt a tingle when she remembered the way he’d said those words told her she’d be hopeless as a lesbian. She hadn’t been serious in the first place.
Still, she wasn’t interested in another relationship. She’d been burned too badly. He just gave her something to daydream about that wasn’t upsetting, and she couldn’t see any harm in fantasizing if it made getting through the day easier. It wasn’t as though she’d ever act on those fantasies.
The stars were out. She hadn’t noticed them in ages. She stopped to gaze up at the sky and to feel the cool wind ripple through her clothes. She was glad she’d come to California. She felt she could breathe for the first time since the nightmare with Gordon started. She didn’t have to worry about the police dropping by to ask her any more questions, didn’t have to fear that every car she heard was someone coming to vent their anger, didn’t have to worry about what someone might say to her children or dread another visit from her mother-in-law. She’d unshackled herself. And even though that freedom would come at the price of living in a tumbledown old ranch house for a while, she was willing. For the first time since she said “I do” nine years ago, she realized that even her marriage had been confining. She’d accepted that being Mrs. Gray was her “forever” lot in life, would never have considered leaving Gordon, if only for the sake of her children. But now that he’d made the decision for her, perhaps one day she’d be glad that she’d been given the chance to reinvent herself.
That was an interesting thought, one she hadn’t considered in all the misery of the foregoing weeks, but one that seemed to hang in the air tonight as a tantalizing promise. The future could be what she made it...
Hauling in a deep, cleansing breath, she smiled as she continued to the creek.
She couldn’t see Gavin’s place from there, so she crossed over and peered through the trees.
There were no lights on at his house, and his truck was still gone.
It was after midnight. This late, he had to be with a woman, didn’t he?
Probably. Maybe he was even staying the night...
She told herself he had the right to do whatever he wanted; it made no difference to her. But she didn’t feel quite so relieved and happy as she turned and walked back to the broken-down house that awaited her attention in the morning.
