The Man She Left Behind (20 page)

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Authors: Janice Carter

BOOK: The Man She Left Behind
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“Don’t do that. Go to bed. There’s plenty of time for dishes tomorrow.”
“Yes, there is time, isn’t there? Now. Good night, then.” She turned to walk through the opened French door, then paused. “I knitted that outfit myself, you know. Bought the wool with some money I’d saved and knit it under cover of darkness so my folks wouldn’t find out. They were that upset,” she explained, sighing. “It was made out of a great deal of love, Leigh.” With that she went inside.
Leigh sat so still and so long her legs cramped. When the banging on the front door roused her, she had to practically hobble through to the front of the house. Spencer was standing on the other side of the screen door and he looked grim.
“Sam?” she asked, hand at her mouth.
“Nope.” He hesitated on the porch, then stepped inside at Leigh’s gesture. “Jamie. I don’t suppose you’ve seen him or heard from him? Heck of a long shot, but...”
“I haven’t seen him since yesterday. Why? What’s happened?”
Spence swore. He pawed at his face with his right hand while the other jiggled his truck keys. “I just got in from my fishing trip about half an hour ago and found the sheriff waiting on my doorstep.” He took a calming breath, shaking his head at the question in Leigh’s face. “No accident or anything. Nothing that normal!” He snorted cynically. “It seems that an old shed on the edge of the village, down near the riding stables on Pond Road, was purposefully set afire tonight.”
“They don’t think...”
“Yeah, as a matter of fact, they do.” He lowered his head, flipped the keys around a few times, then finally looked up and announced, “And so do I.”
He held up a hand at Leigh’s protest. “It’s got Jamie written all over it, dammit. Apparently the night before last the guy who owns the shed caught two kids running out of it. He wasn’t concerned until they acted so suspiciously. He chased them, but couldn’t catch up. One of them was Jamie and the other, a buddy of his, name of Shane. When the guy checked out the shed, he found matches.”
“Maybe they were just having a smoke. You know how kids experiment.”
The look Spence shot her pitied her naiveté. “They could have lit up a cigarette anywhere, Leigh. Why a shed off the beaten track? Nah, he also found a can of lighter fluid and some rags. They obviously were there to start a fire.”
“But why would they do that?”
“For fun! Who the hell knows? I’m so mad at that kid, I could—”
“Spence, Jamie was with me that night. That’s when he showed up at the door and said he was locked out. He spent the night on the sofa!”
“I thought of that. But the sheriff said this happened early, around eight-fifteen. When did Jamie show up?”
Leigh thought back to Monday night. Janet had left at dusk, so it must have been at least eight-thirty or nine. “I’m not sure. About nineish. But Spence, he seemed too casual to have done anything like that. Wouldn’t he have been afraid?”
Spence’s shrug conveyed his skepticism. “Maybe not.”
Suddenly Leigh could see Jamie standing at her front door, sweat beading his face and soaking his T-shirt. He’d obviously been running. She decided to keep that to herself for now. “What are you going to do?”
“I promised the sheriff I’d bring Jamie to the station as soon as I found him. The thing is, Leigh, that fire tonight could have spread to the horse stables. The guy who owns the place might not have discovered it in time. Or he could have been injured putting it out. He’d already started on it when the volunteer fire brigade showed up. My Gawd, I don’t even want to think about it!”
“Spence, why don’t you come in for some coffee? Then we can both go out looking for Jamie. Maybe we should check Sam’s place.”
“It’s all locked up, but anyone could easily break in. That’s a good idea. Forget the coffee, Leigh. I’m going straight there.”
“I’ll come, too.”
“What about...you know?”
“Janet?”
“Yeah. Is she asleep? Won’t she worry if she wakes up and finds you gone?”
“I won’t be that long. I’ll leave a note on the kitchen table. Just a sec.”
Spence watched her disappear into the darkness at the back of the house. The floorboards creaked overhead. He tensed. Then he heard a door click shut upstairs. Had Janet been listening to them from the landing? But why not just call down, see what the commotion was about?
He swore silently. How he wished he could turn back the clock and make last night play all over again. No trouble with Jamie and no Janet.
 
THE TRUCK TORE down the road. Leigh was grateful for her seat belt, but held on to the door handle, anyway. Now was no time to quibble about Spence’s driving, but did he think they were teenagers again and had to make her curfew? She glanced at his profile, highlighted by the illumination from the dash. It was set and determined. She pitied Jamie. The receiving end of that anger must be daunting.
Spence didn’t say a word until the truck hit the ruts by the side of the track leading to Sam’s. “Why don’t you go on to Sam’s while I check the beach and the dunes?”
It wasn’t a request as much as an order. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, she’d have been tempted to salute. Spence shoved a key at her and Leigh jumped out of the truck to run down the trail to Sam’s. She took the stairs carefully in the dark, stumbling once against a watering can that clattered past her down to the sand. When she reached the porch, she felt her way along the railing until she came to the door. Fortunately there was enough moonlight on the door to pinpoint the lock. She’d just inserted the key when she heard a sound from behind.
She froze, then heard, “Leigh? That you?” and wheeled around to see Jamie step out of the shadows.
“You scared me, Jamie. Are you okay?”
He made a harsh sound that was half sob, half laugh.
Leigh turned the key and pushed open the door. “Come on in, Jamie. Your dad will be here in a minute and...well, we need to talk. Obviously.”
The boy didn’t move. “I didn’t do it,” he whispered.
“I know you didn’t,” she said.
“He won’t believe me.”
The bitterness in his voice warned her to tread softly.
“Why not give him a chance to decide that?”
There was a long silence. His breathing, tense and ragged, paced her own. Then he moved closer, out of the darkness. She held out a hand and led him into the living room. When she turned on a lamp, she saw he’d been crying.
“Have you eaten anything tonight? Want something to drink?”
He shook his head and stood still in the middle of the room.
“Where’s Dad?”
“Out looking for you on the beach and in the dunes. He’ll be here soon, I expect.”
Jamie began to pace restlessly. At one point he started toward the door and Leigh’s throat constricted. How could she stop him from leaving if that was what he intended to do?
“Jamie, I don’t know exactly what happened tonight—or the other night when you came by my house.”
He swung sharply about at that, but kept silent.
“And it’s been a long time since I was a teenager living at home with my folks. But what I do know is that you can’t run away from things. They have a habit of tailing along after you—sometimes your whole life. Believe me, I know.” She sat down on the edge of Sam’s rumpled sofa.
“When I was almost eighteen, I went with a bunch of kids by boat to Portsmouth Island. No big deal, right?” She uttered a sarcastic laugh. “Yep, that’s what we all thought. Except we took along some beer and we weren’t real careful about running lights or life jackets or even the amount of gas in the engine.” She stopped then.
What if Jamie misses the point of this morality play?
But he sat down on the arm of the easy chair next to the door.
“It was our graduation-night celebration, a prom, and we thought a night on Portsmouth would be a blast. It’s been deserted for a while and there are a lot of scary buildings and things still there.”
The expression in Jamie’s face told her he wouldn’t have thought them scary.
“At least that’s what one of the girls—Laura—said when I suggested we camp overnight. You see, we’d spent a while drinking and partying and so didn’t notice the wind had come up. Come up pretty fast, in fact. You know what the Sound can be like?”
He nodded gravely.
“Ever been caught in a flash storm? A line squall?”
A negative shake this time.
“Even Grandpa Sam would have found it a challenge. He told me that afterward. To make me feel better, I guess.”
“What happened?” Jamie asked.
“We had two boats with us. I wanted to stay until the storm ended—all night if we had to. The others—they thought I was afraid. And you know what, Jamie? I was. Scared to death. So scared that when they insisted, I just went along with them. Even when we realized we’d left most of the life jackets behind.”
“And?”
“A line squall came up out of nowhere. One of those monster winds that drives the water in a huge long wave. We were more than halfway across the Sound when the wave swamped the boat. I...I was the only one to survive. I don’t remember much about that part. The other boat made it back to Ocracoke all right. But three of my friends didn’t.”
Silence fell thick and heavy on the room. After a while Jamie asked, “Were my parents there?”
Leigh shook her head. “No.”
“What happened later?”
“There was an inquest because of the deaths. I had to go and give testimony.”
“It wasn’t your fault!
They
were to blame, not you!”
Leigh winced at the idealism in his declaration of her innocence. “I was never officially accused of anything of course. But—”
“Some people didn’t agree.”
She locked eyes with him. He was quick. “Some people didn’t. And I blamed myself, too, Jamie. For a long long time. I really thought I could have changed what happened.”
His upper lip curled. “That’s silly. You couldn’t have. Man, what a crummy thing to happen to you.”
Leigh was both touched by the sentiment and amused by its form. “The whole point of that sad little tale, Jamie, is that I spent a lot of years thinking I could avoid dealing with it by pretending it never happened. But all I did was drag it along with me wherever I went.” She paused, then added, “Your dad helped me to see that, just the other day.”
“Dad?” His voice rose in disbelief.
At that moment the screen door swung open and Spence stood in the doorway. He wasn’t smiling. Nor did he raise his voice when he spoke to Jamie. “Shall we go, then?”
When his truck pulled into Leigh’s drive, he followed her to the front door. “Thanks, Leigh. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Wait! Spence, I don’t think Jamie did it.”
A faint sardonic smile flashed across his face. “If thoughts were wishes...”
“Listen to him first before you come to any conclusions. Do that for me. Please?”
“Sure. And I’ll ask the sheriff to do the same.” He turned to leave.
“It’s good advice, Spence.”
His face looked too tired for the glow of anger in his eyes. “Perhaps it is. I just wonder why you feel you should be offering it. I mean, maybe I haven’t spent the time with Jamie I wanted to, but he is my son. To take care of and...and cherish in foul weather, as well as fair.”
Leigh’s face burned. Tears stung her eyes, but she persevered. “Maybe you need the opinion of a third party, someone neutral, who’s not—”
“Emotionally involved?”
She flinched at the sarcasm in the remark. “You’re twisting my words,” she protested.
His face softened then. He shook his head, giving up on the conversation. “Okay, Leigh, I’ll listen. And you do the same for me. When it counts.”
He headed back to the truck idling in the drive. Leigh waited on the porch until it backed into the night, taking with it two pale faces staring fixedly ahead.
By the time she crawled into bed, she was spent—physically and emotionally. She lay in the darkness, wide-eyed and thinking, all night long.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“H
OW ABOUT LUNCH?”
Leigh hesitated. Trish Butterfield might be too much for Janet to take her first full day in Ocracoke. “Ah, I’m not sure, Trish. Can I get back to you? See, I’ve got a houseguest here—”
“No kidding? Anyone I know?”
Now wasn’t the time, Leigh decided. Besides, she guessed that telling Trish would be the same as telling the whole island. And that wouldn’t be fair to Janet. She made her excuses and got off the phone as quickly as a person could speaking to Trish Butterfield, promising to call back later in the week.
When she told Janet, the easing of lines in the woman’s face told Leigh she’d made the right decision. Later that morning Leigh telephoned Spence’s office in the village but got no answer except for his machine. She duly recorded her message and hoped that he and Jamie had cleared the air last night.
By eleven she was beginning to feel restless and asked Janet if she’d like to drive into the village. “I’d like that,” Janet replied. “Maybe I could pick up a newspaper, too.”
“Sure. Though I think the
Island Breeze
only comes out once a month.”
“Yes, it does. We get it way up in Elizabeth City.”
“Really?” Leigh asked, preoccupied with a note she was leaving for Spence in case he dropped by.
“Well, of course. That’s how I knew about you. Don’t you remember?”
Leigh glanced up at the sharpness in Janet’s voice.
She’s under as much strain as you are, Leigh.
Yet it was a reminder that perhaps, as Spence had implied, Leigh was moving this whole birth-mother thing along too quickly.
She turned back to Janet, standing in the door frame, and summoned a cheerfulness she wasn’t quite feeling. “Are you ready, then? I’ve left a note for Spence in case he drops by. There was a problem late last night—with his son,” she explained when she saw the question in Janet’s face.
“Have you and Spencer been dating?”
Dating? Funny word that. Reminiscent of movies and holding hands in coffee shops.
“Not exactly.” She searched for the right words. What could she say?
We used to be lovers and we are once more?
“It looked like you’d been together a long time.”
Leigh headed for the front door, reluctant to have Janet see her face. “Probably because we’ve known each other for so many years,” she said breezily, and held the door for Janet to pass through. But on the short drive into town Leigh realized that a complete stranger had picked up the current between her and Spencer and guessed accurately about its significance.
The car pulled into the parking lot of the Ocracoke general store. “I’ve got some things to get here. Any particular request for dinner tonight?” Leigh asked.
“No, don’t go to so much trouble, Leigh. How about if I cook?”
“If you like. I was also thinking of asking Spence and Jamie.”
“Oh.”
“Do you think that might be too much?”
Janet smiled timidly. “It was so nice last night, just the two of us. And I’ve been thinking I should go home in a few days.”
“Really?”
“I’ve got a house to run, too.”
“But no job to go to, right? I mean, you mentioned last night that you were on a disability pension for your back.”
“Oh, yes. That’s right. But I’ll have mail to check and so on.”
“Is there a neighbor who could get your mail? Maybe send it to you?”
“I suppose. Why?”
“I just thought, since I rearranged my leave from work, that you...we would have more time together.”
“Would you really like that?”
Leigh smiled at the enthusiasm in Janet’s voice. “Yes,” she said, “I would. Come on. Let’s get steaks. We haven’t had a really special celebration dinner yet. Just the two of us.”
“That would be wonderful. I haven’t had steak for years. Pension, you know.”
The store was full of locals and a few tourists, although Leigh knew by the end of the summer the population of seven hundred in Ocracoke would triple. She sent Janet off to get some wine and headed for the butcher counter. Trish Butterfield was standing in line.
Leigh gritted her teeth and took her place a couple of people behind. It didn’t take Trish long to notice her in the hubbub of island greetings and catching up on local news.
A few heads turned when she cried out, “Leigh Randall!” but Leigh was pleased to see that, after polite nods, most of the customers returned to their own conversations. Trish bustled back to stand in line with Leigh. “What a coincidence!”
“In Ocracoke? Hardly,” Leigh murmured.
Trish dug her in the ribs. “You are droll, aren’t you.” She peered over Leigh’s shoulder. “So, are you alone or with company?”
For a moment Spencer came to mind, but then Leigh recalled the morning phone call. “Oh. My friend is here somewhere.”
“Good. And how’s the house selling coming?”
“We’re having another open house Friday.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Is tomorrow Friday? Already?”
“Funny how fast time goes the older you get. Even in Ocracoke!” Trish laughed merrily. “And we used to think things moved at a snail’s pace here.” She got serious then and leaned closer to whisper, “Have you heard about young Jamie McKay? Charged with arson?”
Leigh pulled her head back. “He was?” No wonder Spencer hadn’t phoned. He’d probably been talking to lawyers all morning. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach.
“He and Shane Robertson. They apparently burned down Sy Haygood’s shed. Caused a lot of damage, not to mention scaring the poor horses in the stable farther down the lane. I heard they just about rampaged they were so panicked.”
Leigh wasn’t sure she’d be able to stand there much longer listening to this. “No doubt the truth will come out soon,” she said in a flat tone. But there was no slowing down Trish.
“No doubt. Guess you’ll be the first to hear that part, eh?” Another poke in the ribs. “Or is it unfounded rumor that you and Spencer have picked up again?”
Picked up what?
Leigh wanted to ask. Instead, she feigned interest in the rows of meat on the other side of the glass display.
“Okay, I won’t push you on that one. But we all think it’s terrific.”
We?
This was the negative side of island life, she realized. Events speculated on and plans made, all without participants’ knowledge.
“I got a bottle of red and one of white,” a voice announced from behind Trish’s broad back.
Trish whirled around. Janet was there holding a wire basket with two bottles. She looked from Leigh to Trish, just realizing she’d interrupted a conversation.
Good timing,
Leigh thought.
“Trish, this is my... my friend, Janet Bradley. Janet, Trish Butterfield. Trish and her sister used to baby-sit for me way back when.”
Trish beamed at the other woman. “Nice to meet you. So are you a friend of Leigh’s from New York?”
Janet glanced at Leigh. “No, I live in Elizabeth City.”
Trish frowned. “Then are you a relative of Leigh’s mother?” She turned to Leigh. “Wasn’t your mother from Elizabeth City?”
Leigh nodded vaguely. “Close by. Uh, Janet’s an old family friend,” she added, hoping that would satisfy Trish.
“Well, it’s nice to have people come and visit. Especially since you’ll be selling up and taking off again, right? Though maybe you’ve altered your plans now.” There was a knowing grin and another elbow jab.
Leigh stepped closer to the head of the line.
Maybe we’ll forget the steaks.
A glance at Janet told her she wasn’t enjoying the talk, either. Besides, Leigh was desperate to get to a phone. Why hadn’t she brought it with her?
‘Cause this is Ocracoke
,
silly, not New York. You’d strand out like a sore thumb
.
She’d just given her order to the butcher when she heard Trish say from behind, “My sister lives near Elizabeth City. She’s coming for a visit on the weekend and I hope you and Leigh will be able to meet her. She and Leigh haven’t seen each other in years. I know Faye will be excited.”
Leigh took the paper-wrapped order from the butcher and turned around to the two women. Trish was prattling on, oblivious to the strain in Janet’s face.
“What’s this about Faye?” Leigh asked.
Trish moved to her place, gave her order and then repeated, “She’ll be here maybe Saturday. I hope we can all get together sometime.”
Leigh smiled, feeling more generous now that she was leaving the store. “I’ll be here for sure. Though I’m not certain about Janet.” She looked at Janet, who was picking something off the front of her blouse.
“Oh!” Janet glanced up then, her face a greenish tint in the store’s neon light. “I’m not sure about my plans. Perhaps...”
Leigh looked at Trish. “Well, give me a call when she gets into town.” She backed toward the door and waved.
“I will,” Trish promised. “And you give me a call when you hear how Sam Logan’s doing.”
Leigh nodded.
She’s definitely got all the latest news
.
On the way home, Janet was subdued. When Leigh switched off the engine, Janet murmured, “Why did you introduce me as your friend?”
The question took Leigh by surprise. She thought she’d been doing Janet a favor by the discreet introduction. “You probably noticed that Trish Butterfield is one of the island gossips. I just assumed you’d want your privacy respected.”
Janet reached out a hand to Leigh’s, still clinging to the steering wheel. “Thank you for that, my dear. But you know, I’m very proud to be your natural mother.” Then she opened the passenger door and headed for the front door.
Leigh watched her retreating back, tall and resolute. She shook her head. It seemed as though she couldn’t get anything right anymore.
 
THE DAY DRAGGED. Leigh wandered the house, distracted by thoughts of Spence, Jamie and Sam. Entertaining Janet was difficult. Most of the filling in the blanks of their pasts had been accomplished. And it was clear to Leigh that, though they might tell each other the stories of their different lives, there was no bond of shared experiences to link them.
She’s my biological mother, yet she doesn’t feel any closer to me than a stranger
.
Leigh warned herself not to have such high expectations. She knew that only time would make Janet seem like her mother, although she also knew in her heart she’d only have one real mother—Ellen Randall. It was an important distinction and one she wouldn’t forget.
Evan’s phone call broke the monotony. He wanted to arrange details about the open house the next day. Leigh assured him she’d be available and then told him that the woman who’d made so many inquiries about the house was staying with her as a guest.
After a brief silence Evan said simply, “I’m dumbfounded.”
Leigh had to laugh at his reaction. “So am I. But it’s a long story, and if there’s a chance tomorrow, I may tell you some of it.”
By early evening Leigh was ready to call Reg to say she’d changed her mind about staying, after all. She wondered how people managed to survive in a place as small as Ocracoke all year round. Then she caught herself and smiled.
You spent your whole childhood here, kiddo, and your parents most of their lives. Everyone managed to find plenty to do
.
At last Spencer called. “You’ve probably already heard,” was the first thing he said.
“Trish Butterfield.”
“Say no more. Well, Jamie’s back home now. The judge kindly hustled the bail bond procedure through, butit was dicey at first, given Jamie’s record.”
Leigh closed her eyes. She didn’t know whom to feel more pity for—Jamie or Spencer. “Anything I can do?”
“Sam’s place?” was the tentative reply.
“Omigod! I completely forgot. I’ll go over there right now.”
“No, wait’ll the morning. He won’t be home until afternoon sometime.”
“Okay. And...how’s Jamie?”
She could almost hear the shrug. “Scared, I suppose. He’s not saying much, only that he didn’t do it.”
“Do you believe him?”
An explosive exhalation. “I want to believe him, but I can’t figure out why he isn’t explaining what happened. He doesn’t say a thing.”
“Well, hopefully he’ll talk more now that he’s home. It must be terrifying for a kid to go to a police station and have people questioning him.”
There was a pause. “You must know about that.”
“You’re right. Funny, I’d forgotten about that part of graduation night. Didn’t you drive me to the police station?”
“Yep. When the wind came up, I headed down to the Creek. I knew you hadn’t come back from Portsmouth, because I hung around after I took Jen home. Then I saw the first boat come back, and as soon as it docked, I realized you were on the other one. I was about to get into the boat myself and go out after you, but someone was screaming. It was so dark and the wind was roaring, I could hardly see a thing.”

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