Читать книгу Appalachian Prey - Debbie Herbert - Страница 10

Chapter Two

Gone.

Harlan rubbed his temples and sat back down on the sofa. He pointed to the rocker, and Lilah settled across from him. How to tell her?

“Was your dad in the habit of keeping large amounts of money around the cabin?” he finally asked.

“No.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “At least, not that I’m aware of.”

“Any idea how he might have come into this money?”

Her lips pinched together. “No.”

“Moonshining can be pretty profitable for a few folks.”

The muscles in her jaw worked, and she lifted a hand and waved it in the air. “Not for us. Does this look like a mansion or something? If Dad made much money at it, he sure didn’t believe in spreading the wealth.”

Harlan knew her financial struggle. She’d been working for six years as a teacher’s aide, paying for college tuition and books as she could on her salary.

“Sure, he wasn’t known for having an extravagant lifestyle,” Harlan agreed. “But you told me yourself that he acted different when you visited in March.”

“Lots of shady characters hanging around. A younger crowd, people I’d never seen before.” She sighed and stared down at her hands. “Lots of long talks with Uncle Thad, too. Whenever I entered the room, they would stop talking. But that wasn’t so unusual. In the past, they would come up with some pretty harebrained get-rich schemes that never worked. Part of the reason Mom cut out years ago.”

Lilah lifted her head and faced him dead on. “But you already know most of this. I confided a lot to you when—” she hesitated a heartbeat “—when we were seeing each other.”

Seeing each other. Images of her flashed through his mind—Lilah lying on his bed, her hair spread against the sheets, the play of moonlight on her skin, the feel of her hand gliding down his abs and lower still... Best not to dwell on that. He cleared his throat.

“Can’t help wondering if your dad might have changed his, er, business model. He wouldn’t be the first to switch from moonshine to marijuana. That’s where the real money is these days.”

Gray eyes flashed. “You asking if Dad was a dope dealer? No way.”

There was no kind way to have her face the possibility. Might as well be honest. “There’s been rumors. We know for a fact that there’s a huge drug-running operation that passes through our mountains. We just haven’t been able to make a major bust yet.”

“Rumors?” She stood and paced, temper sparking in her clipped movements. “Figures. Anything criminal happening in Elmore County and people are going to bring up Dad’s name. It’s so unfair. He never hurt anybody. And he never sold liquor to the teenagers that came around. Said moonshine was a grown man’s drink.”

Harlan bit the inside of his mouth to keep from blurting his thoughts. He’d liked Chauncey, but Lilah had either forgotten her dad’s more violent tendencies or she’d shoved them to the back of her mind. She hadn’t been especially close to her dad, but his death was so recent, so fresh in her heart, and Chauncey was her father, after all.

“I’m not judging him,” Harlan said, treading lightly. “He had plenty of good qualities—a loyal friend, always minded his own business and generous to a fault. But he had a dark side, too. Chauncey spent many a night as a guest of the Elmore County jail for assault.”

She shrugged. “Drunken bar fights.”

Fierce fights that had resulted in serious injuries to the unlucky, foolhardy men who crossed him. But he let that pass without comment. “You’ve never seen anything else suspicious?”

“I know what pot plants look like. If I’d seen any on our property, I’d have reported it. Take a look around for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

“Your father didn’t have to be growing it in his fields to participate. He could have managed an indoor operation.”

“I don’t know anything about that.” Lilah crossed her arms.

If she had a fault, it was stubbornness. She’d come by it honestly as Chauncey Tedder’s daughter. That man refused to live life on anyone else’s terms and abided by his own creed of what constituted right and wrong—the law be damned. Truth be told, many mountain folk felt the same.

“If you find anything incriminating while you’re staying here, I hope you’ll tell me.”

“Outlaws keeping a step ahead of the law up here?” she quipped. “Imagine that.”

Were they ever. Every drug raid ended the same—a dead end with no evidence or suspects in sight. “This is serious, Lilah. Drug operations bring in a dangerous criminal element. They aren’t like your dad.”

She sobered. “Which is why Dad would never have been a part of that. Never.”

He raised his hands, palms out. “Okay, okay. I just can’t help worrying about you staying out here alone.”

“I won’t be here long. There’s no reason to stay now that...you know.” She let her words trail off.

Now that their relationship was over.

Again, it hung heavy in the air between them, weighing on his shoulders like a thick blanket. “When?”

“Soon,” she answered dismissively.

He’d lost the right to question her more closely about her comings and goings. None of his business.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Sorry for—”

“Forget it.” She thrust out her chin. “I have.”

Had she? Had Lilah really moved on? Because he sure as hell hadn’t. “Why don’t you stay with Darla while you’re here? The next guy coming along to buy ’shine might not be as nice as the one that just skedaddled off your property.”

He caught the slight tightness at the edge of her eyes. “She’s busy with Ed and her kids. We’d get on each other’s nerves after a while, anyway.”

“Too bad Jimmy couldn’t have stayed longer.”

“Yeah. He looked so sad when he had to fly back,” she said wistfully.

His old friend, her brother, was no longer the free-spirited kid that he used to hang around with in high school—and occasionally get in trouble with. Jimmy’s tour in Afghanistan had changed his carefree attitude. At the funeral, and even afterward, he’d been distant and grave. Shell-shocked, some might say.

The loud rumble of a diesel engine roared from the driveway, and Harlan stepped out onto the porch in time to see a large gruff man at the wheel. He sharply turned the truck, and it circled the yard before heading back down the road.

“Your cruiser is running off my dad’s business,” Lilah said drily.

He rubbed his chin. “Wish I could leave it here overnight.”

“I’ll be fine. Just go.” With that, she turned away.

He’d been dismissed, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. “At least for tonight, call your sister and see if she’ll stay out here with you.” At the cold snap of her gray eyes, he added, “Please.”

“Maybe.”

The old oak door shut firmly behind her. Stubborn woman.

* * *

A LEATHER CORDED bracelet with a crimson stone, a triple-stranded necklace of multicolored glass and a tarnished silver ring with a fake cameo carving. Lilah laid the jewelry on the kitchen table and examined the pieces. They obviously held little, if any, monetary value, but they’d been carefully wrapped in an embroidered linen handkerchief inside a red silk drawstring pouch. So they’d meant something to somebody at one time.

Curious, she’d called Mom, who’d snorted when asked if they’d once belonged to her. “Anything I wanted from that cabin, which wasn’t much, I took with me when I left your dad.” She also claimed never to have seen the jewelry. “Might have belonged to Chauncey’s mama, but if it did, I never noticed he had them, and he never mentioned it to me. Your dad wasn’t exactly the sentimental type, anyway.”

Still, Lilah was reluctant to chuck the pieces in the charity box with everything else worth salvaging. If the jewelry had belonged to Granny Tedder, she wanted to keep it.

At the crunch of gravel outside, she peered out the front window. Good, just Darla and Uncle Thad come to call. She opened the screen door and waved them inside. Uncle Thad hefted Darla’s overnight bag from the truck bed as her sister minced her way to the porch in high heels. Lilah suppressed a giggle. Even as a kid, Darla was into playing dress up and acting like a Hollywood ingenue instead of a hillbilly’s daughter.

“Thanks for coming over, y’all. Harlan was over earlier and got me all paranoid about staying alone out here.”

“Harlan, huh? He’s sexy.” Darla winked as she entered, leaving a trail of perfume in her wake.

Lilah ignored the comment.

“Got yer shotgun, don’t ya?” Uncle Thad bellowed. “Yer safe enough.” He huffed and puffed up the porch steps. He was a giant of a man, over six feet tall, and as strong and as broad-boned as an ox.

He always knew just what to say to make her feel better. She hugged him as he entered the cabin.

Darla walked to the kitchen table, hips swaying. When she pulled out a chair and sat, she crossed her legs, exposing a long stretch of thigh. “You’ve been working hard. I’ve never seen Dad’s place look so tidy. At least not since Mama ran off.” She tossed her hair and sighed. “Be a love and make me a cup of coffee. Those kids ’bout ran me ragged today.”

Lilah exchanged a quick knowing glance with Uncle Thad, who was dragging the suitcase to the back bedroom. Somehow, everything always centered on Darla and her needs. Feeling guilty, Lilah set about fixing the coffee. After all, her sister was busy with her own home life and didn’t have to come babysit a grown fraidy-cat woman.

“What do we have here?” Darla cooed, picking up the multicolored necklace and holding it to the light.

“Found them under Dad’s mattress. Any idea who they belong to?”

“No, but it’s mine now.” Darla clasped the necklace around her neck and preened. “How does it look?”

Gaudy, actually. Lilah measured the coffee and started the machine. “Mmm,” she said noncommittally.

Uncle Thad waved from the den. “Gotta hit the road. Momma’s waiting dinner on me.”

“Tell Aunt Vi I said hey,” Lilah called from the kitchen.

Darla put on the bracelet and ring. “Not too shabby, I guess. Whatcha think, Uncle?”

He stopped and stared. “Where’d ya get those baubles?”

“Lilah found them. Do they look pretty on me?”

“Sure, sure. Not that you need adornment.” He winked at Lilah. Uncle Thad knew how to flatter his niece.

“You want to keep one, Lilah?” Darla asked.

“Nah, that’s okay. They should go to someone who appreciates them.”

Uncle Thad left, and Lilah warmed up a large pot of chicken and dumplings and another pot of butter beans. She was suddenly ravenous and exhausted as the aroma kicked in, and she absently stirred the dumplings, thinking of all the things she’d have loved to discuss with Darla. Hidden matters of the heart. But there was a layer of reserve between them. It seemed sometimes as if Darla resented her. Lilah had left Lavender Mountain years ago, finished her high school degree, and would soon graduate college with her teacher’s certificate, whereas Darla had never left, never finished her schooling and had pretty much been forced into marriage when she’d gotten pregnant at sixteen.

Lilah set their plates on the table and sat across from her. “I know the kids keep you busy, but aren’t they fun, too? I mean, you like being a mother, don’t you?”

Darla shrugged. “It has its moments, I suppose. But it’s lots of work. More than I realized it would be.”

“But satisfying, right?”

“Sure,” she said carelessly, lifting her little finger as she sipped her coffee.

Well, that hadn’t been particularly enlightening or encouraging. What had she expected? Lilah ate, savoring the homemade food. As soon as her stomach was sated, lethargy crept in like a drug. She blinked, surveying the dirty dishes with dread. All she wanted was to crawl into bed and snuggle under the covers.

“Hey, kid.” Darla’s hand closed over hers. “You look beat. I’ll wash the dishes.”

“You will?” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.

“Of course. You go on to bed.”

Beat didn’t even begin to cover how exhausted she felt. For the first time since she was a little kid, Lilah had begun taking afternoon naps. “I’ll take you up on that offer,” she said.

Darla slipped off the leather bracelet and clasped it around Lilah’s wrist. “And you keep this. Stand up for yourself now and then, girl.”

Unexpected tears gathered in her eyes, and she blinked them back. Every once in a blue moon, Darla surprised her. Nodding, she got up from the table and went to the bedroom. Without bothering to change into her nightgown, she slipped between the covers and fell into the black abyss of sleep.

* * *

COLD.

Lilah rubbed the goose bumps on her arm. Wind rustled through the pines and whooshed into the cabin. Darla must have opened a window, she surmised, clambering out of bed.

The scrape of a heavy boot on the wooden floor brought her to an abrupt halt. The back of her neck prickled. Another step creaked in the hallway, and her mind raced. The shotgun was by the front door, so that was of no use. She hesitated, torn between locking her door or opening her bedroom window and hightailing it into the dark night.

But she couldn’t leave Darla alone to face the menace.

Lilah unplugged the lamp on her nightstand and wrapped her hand around the base like a club. Not much of a weapon, but it was better than nothing. She stepped into the hallway and flattened herself against the wall, letting her eyes adjust to the dark.

Moonbeams cast a silvery glow in the den, and the shadows shifted, forming the silhouette of a man in black. He wasn’t aware of her presence and crept from the rocking chair to the coffee table, picking up magazines and searching for...something. Did others know about the large amount of cash her father had stockpiled in the cabin? This could get ugly, deadly even. Maybe someone who’d been searching for the money had murdered her dad. Damn it, Harlan was right to warn her away from this place. Darla spending the night calmed her fears, but unless her sister was packing heat, she was of no help.

Lilah peeled herself away from the wall and stepped into the hallway to warn Darla of the danger. At the slight sound, the man straightened and spun around.

He had no face. Where eyes and nose and mouth should have been, there was nothing but inchoate blackness.

Lilah’s pulse pounded furiously in her taut body. It was a nightmare come to life—paralysis rooted her feet to the floor and she could hardly breathe. The scream in her throat choked her lungs, refusing to unloose in the deathly quiet.

Suddenly, the intruder turned and ran for the open window.

A piercing cry vibrated her ears and brain. It took several seconds before she realized it was her own voice screaming. She stumbled to the front of the cabin on numb feet and dropped the lamp on the sofa, exchanging porcelain for the cold steel of the shotgun’s barrel. A bolt of courage rippled down her spine, and she raced to the window and slammed it shut.

“What the hell is going on?” Darla rushed into the room and flipped on the light switch, revealing her baby doll nightie with its feathered neckline. Her mouth was devoid of the usual red lipstick, but pink sponge curlers dangled loosely in her brown hair. Oddly enough, the scanty attire only made her appear like an adolescent. A vulnerable, confused teenager.

“Somebody broke in. Did you open the window in here before you went to bed?”

“No. Is that how they got in? Did you get a good look at him?”

“He wore a mask.”

“Oh, my God. I’m calling Ed to get out here.”

“No sense rousing him and your kids out of bed. The man’s gone.”

“Are you crazy? I’m not staying here.”

“We could drive into town and stay at a motel. But I don’t relish the thought of going outside to get in the car.”

“Call your Harlan. Tell him to get here ASAP.”

Her Harlan. She wished he was. Not the mean, stupid Harlan who’d dumped her but the old Harlan who couldn’t keep his hands off her and whose kisses had made her feel wild and cherished. She lifted her chin. “No. I won’t bother him.”

“Bother him? Isn’t responding to break-ins, like, his job?”

She could call someone else in the sheriff’s office, but Harlan would get word and come immediately. Lilah thought fast. “We could call Uncle Thad.”

Darla grumbled. “Okay. But the only reason I’m not calling Ed is ’cause I don’t wanna put my kids in danger.”

“I’ll make the call while you get dressed.”

Darla sped to the bedroom, mumbling under her breath—something about the crazy gene in their family, Lilah thought.

Lilah grabbed the cell phone and punched in her uncle’s number with her left hand, still clutching the gun in her right. She turned off the overhead light and stood by the window. Was he out there in the darkness, waiting for another night, another opportunity?

She would never feel safe here again. Maybe Harlan was right. Maybe Dad had gotten mixed up in some new dangerous scheme. A new gamble, a new adventure—one that had cost him his life. Who knew what desperate secrets lived in another’s heart? She had to think about her own future, her own sad secret.

As soon as she’d settled her dad’s affairs, she would leave Lavender Mountain.