Wedding Ring (30 page)

Her son had not been with her. Robert was still at home, and now there was no car for him to drive.

The rain began in earnest, and Tessa considered abandoning her post. Robert was marooned. The storm would make the drive back to Shenandoah County longer tonight, and she was already exhausted. What were the chances Owens would leave his house on foot in this downpour?

What were the chances a drunk separated from his alcohol would care about a little rain?

She settled down into her seat and arched her neck. Her eyes closed. She was definitely more tired than usual. The nightmare had visited twice last night after she finally got to bed, spurred on, she supposed, by her hours of surveillance. She had slept very little, forgoing her morning jog to sleep later than usual. But she needed more.

She needed so much more than sleep and had no idea how to reach for any of it.

She opened her eyes just as an old silver conversion van pulled into an empty space across the street, directly parallel to her own parking spot. As she watched, a stream of young men poured out into the rain, laughing and cursing. They ran toward the front door, shoving each other as they went. With the help of a streetlight, then the sudden illumination of a porch light, she counted five, two carrying brown paper bags. They disappeared into the house; the porch light flicked off, and the street grew quiet again.

Tessa was wide awake now, adrenaline shooting through her body. She knew a party when she saw one. All the ingredients were right there. The raucous young men. The shopping bags filled with six-packs or hard liquor. A rainy night just meant for getting drunk in the privacy of somebody else’s home.

And Mrs. Owens, the good influence that the court depended on to keep Robert in line, gone.

She sat forward, hands on the wheel, and wished she could be a rose on the wallpaper. Although she didn’t know every fine detail of the probation agreement, she guessed that spending time with friends was probably allowed, as long as Robert didn’t break any other rules. Maybe they had gathered to watch a baseball game or a wrestling match. She didn’t know and didn’t care. But if they were drinking and Robert joined them, then he was in violation of his probation, and he could go back to jail.
Would
go back, if Judge Lutz was telling the truth.

Robert was supposed to attend AA meetings every morning before work. She doubted he had missed a one, since that was part of the agreement. But what he did in the privacy of his house, when no one else was there to monitor him? That was the question mark.

The rain was coming down in sheets now, but even though it was drumming hard against the roof and windows, Tessa heard music, and she knew where it was coming from. Loud rock music, with a beat as steady as the rain.

She could call the probation officer, but what would she say?
I’m parked outside Robert Owens’s house, hoping to send him back to jail? He might be drinking? Send somebody to check his blood alcohol level, but wait a little while until it’s higher?

She had one chance to get this right. Less than one, if the probation officer ignored her, even when the evidence was incontrovertible. She had to use her opportunity wisely. Once she admitted she had been watching Robert, she would not be able to continue.

She needed to see what was happening. She couldn’t go to the door and ask to be let in. Even if she manufactured an excuse like a flat tire, Robert would recognize her. The only viable option was to peer through the windows like a peeping Tom. She was fairly sure the darkness and the rain would protect her. Light spilled out of windows in the back, and she knew the curtains were open. If she was careful and didn’t take too many chances, she could look in without being seen. If he was drinking, she would go back to the car and make the call. She had the probation officer’s name and home phone number. Diana had gotten it for her, although Tessa didn’t know quite how that had been accomplished.

She debated silently. Sitting in the car on the Owenses’ street was one thing, but padding silently through the backyard, peering through their windows, was something else. Yet the inclination to do it was so strong, so sure, that she abandoned reason at last and turned to get her raincoat from the back seat.

She was glad the worst of the lightning seemed to have moved away. She wasn’t worried about getting struck so much as getting caught in a bright burst of light. No one was on the street or front stoops. The houses flanking his didn’t have their lights on, which made it easier for her to shoot in between the house on the right and the Owens house, and head toward the back.

Her progress was impeded by overgrown bushes, but they also helped hide her. She passed two darkened windows on her left and noticed with relief that the neighbors’ bushes were even higher and thicker, blocking much of the view from the side windows. They’d probably been allowed to grow to provide privacy because the houses were so close together.

Even with a raincoat, she was drenched by the time she got close to the back of the house. Rain found its way under the slight V at her throat, and the hat she’d tied under her chin was no help at all, channeling the water down her back. The coat stopped at her hips, and her jeans were already sodden and stiff.

She heard the party before she could see it. Loud voices, louder music, the laughter of young men egging each other on. She wondered if these were old friends of Robert’s, perhaps even some of the ones who’d poured him into his car and sent him off drunk on the morning Kayley died. That party had gone on until well after dawn. She wondered if this one would, as well.

She edged between the bushes and the brick. The passage was narrow, and evergreen branches slapped at her shoulders and neck. She confronted holly and felt the sharp leaves tearing at her raincoat, and then at her hands when she tried to brush it away from her face.

She inched closer, and the noise got louder. She knew better than to stick her face against the windowpane, although the temptation was there. She bent down low and peered in through the corner of the window. Her view was blocked by the edge of a curtain, and she moved closer. A portion of the room was visible now. She saw a television set, although it was unlikely anyone could hear it with the music turned so loud. Her breath caught when a young man walked over and changed the channel. He was dressed in jeans riding low over his hips and an oversized T-shirt. When he turned, she saw an owl and the word
Hooters
in bright orange print. No subtlety there, but none expected, either.

Another man joined him. Both of them were carrying cans, but she couldn’t tell of what. The second wore shorts to his knees and a plaid sports shirt unbuttoned to show his entire chest. Both had straggly hair and somber, bored faces. She wondered if they could tell themselves apart.

Neither of them was Robert.

She turned to look past the bushes and decided the only way to get a better view was to get away from the house and beyond the bushes again, then use them to shield her as she positioned herself to see inside. She would be taking a risk by moving away from the house, but as it was, this risk wasn’t worth the effort.

The infinitesimal portion of her that had remained dry no longer was by the time she pushed through the bushes and crept closer to the center of the window. She could see better now, although out from under the minor protection of the eaves, the rain was even worse. Two men were laughing in the opposite corner from the television. One shoved the other, palm against shoulder, and the second shoved back. They were obviously playing. She was reminded of young stags butting horns, testing their mettle, finding their place on the testosterone curve.

Then Robert walked into the room. He was the essence of her nightmares, this broad-shouldered, heavy-chested youth whose short legs didn’t live up to the promise of his upper body, and whose posture was almost ape-like. He had short hair the color of dried leaves, and a high, wide forehead that made closely set eyes even less appealing.

Had he simply been her student, and had she been the woman she was before Kayley’s death, she would have reached out to him, the way she always reached out to kids who seemed to have little going for them. She had seen his presentencing report. His IQ was high enough that he should have made Bs without trying hard. As a younger boy, he had been a leader in Cub Scouts, and later, as a Boy Scout, he had earned a dozen merit badges before his life fell apart.

But from that point on, his record had changed. Vandalism. Petty theft. Drunk driving. Good grades turned to bad. Problems with anger management. One fistfight that had left a fellow student unconscious and bleeding on the gymnasium floor. Suspension. Reinstatement. Suspension.

As she watched, he joined the two who now seemed to be arguing over what to watch on television. He moved between them, and in a moment the channel had been changed again. There was no drink in his hand, but she knew that didn’t mean anything. In the time his friends had been there, he could have chugged a beer, maybe even two, if he was desperate enough. And wouldn’t he be desperate after the long dry spell called prison?

If she watched long enough…If she waited patiently…If she…

Robert turned and headed straight for the window. He was arguing. She could hear the rough singsong of his voice, and his fists were flying in punctuation. She realized he was only seconds away from discovering her. It might be dark, it might be raining, but if he got all the way to the window…She sank lower and turned to move away, and there, right in front of her, was a man, stooping in the rain and reaching for her.

He clapped his hand over her mouth just as she opened it to scream. “Tessa,” he hissed, “for God’s sake, shut up.”

She was limp with fear, stunned and shaking, and it took long moments to realize the man was Mack.

He removed his hand and put his finger to his lips. Then he motioned toward the street, taking her arm to pull her along. There was no possibility of argument. They could not afford to make a fuss. But she knew that if she didn’t go with him, a fuss would be made anyway.

They ended up in his car, which was parked farther away than hers. She dripped water everywhere as he shoved her into the passenger seat. Inside, he turned and rummaged in the back before he came up with a towel, which he tossed on her lap.

“I just use it for the windshield. It should be clean enough.”

She mopped her face. She was still trembling, and the simple act drained all her energy. “How the hell did you find me?”

“Your mother asked me to talk some sense into you. She said this was the second night in a row you’d come out here. She’s afraid you’re going to set up a tent.”

“And you went along with her? That’s a first.”

“What in the world did you think you’d accomplish back there? Do you know how many laws you broke? Trespassing. Invasion of privacy. Just for starters. Stalking’s a real possibility, too. Have you lost your mind?”

“My mind? No. My inhibitions? Apparently.” Tessa didn’t look at him. The towel was already sopping, but she continued to rub it over her face and hair as a shield.

“Tess, honey, look at me.”

She hadn’t expected his tone to change so suddenly. She dropped the towel in her lap and faced him. “Mack, I don’t want a lecture. And I don’t want to be cajoled. I knew what I was doing.”

“And what you were risking?”

“Of course! Do you think I’ve suddenly grown stupid?”

“Robert Owens has rights.”

“Unfortunately our daughter no longer does.”

He winced, and she wasn’t happy to see it. She looked away. “As far as I’m concerned, he lost all his rights forever when he ran Kayley down. If I could plant evidence against him and get away with it, I would do it.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

She didn’t argue, because she wasn’t sure which of them was right. Where would she stop? It was a question she’d pondered for days.

“What did you see in there?” he asked. “Was it worth it?”

“It might have been if you’d left me alone.”

“In other words, there was nothing going on that doesn’t go on in a million homes.”

She wished she had seen Robert with a beer can in his hand. She wanted to throw that in Mack’s face. “His mother left, and not more than five minutes later his friends arrived. Do you think that was an accident? They were waiting for her to go, waiting to have a party. Party to this set means drinking.”

“You can prove it?”

She couldn’t.

He put his hand on her thigh, and there was nowhere she could go to get away from it except back out in the rain. “Please, don’t do this,” he said. “I’m worried about you. More than you even know. This isn’t like you. You’re fair. You’re wise.”

“I’m a mother.”

“I’ve been running through our last meeting in my head, Tess. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve replayed it.”

As many times as
she
had, she was sure. “Nothing’s changed,” she said. “I’m still going to watch his house.”

“I’m afraid something has changed. You told me the other night that you weren’t doing anything illegal. You stepped over that line tonight.”

She took his hand and moved it off her leg so that they were no longer touching. Then she sat there and considered what he’d said. And in the end, after minutes had passed, she closed her eyes.