What You See (25 page)

I had the feeling I’d done this before. What’s that
word—déjà-vu? Well, it was happening now. The dust had barely settled when I
saw the front door close. Larry was definitely in a rush. We slid into a
parking space and followed in his path to the front door just in time to hear
the lock click. Billy jammed his finger on the doorbell and held it there.

“Enough!” I screamed. “Are you trying to make him mad?”

“I’m just trying to get his attention.”

“It’s working.”

Rose opened the door and whispered, “What are you doing back?
I thought I asked you to leave. This isn’t a good time. Dad just got home and
he’s really, really angry. Please go away.”

“That’s what you said the last time we were here. Is there
ever a good time at this house? Where’s your father?” I demanded.

“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t try to warn you,” she said. She
backed up to let us enter, and then closed the door.

Billy turned to me, pointed his finger and said, “I want you
to behave yourself in here. No more craziness.”

“You wish!” I teased.

What a fine team Billy and I were together. We were two
adults acting like little kids. Mom would be so proud.

“I assume you’re here to return my shotgun,” Larry stated as
he reached out and took it from Billy. He pointed to the front door. “Now get
out of here before I call the cops. I know who you idiots are, so don’t mess
with me.”

As soon as we stepped outside, Larry Hudgins slammed the
door.

“What do we do next, Billy?”

“We go to Plan B,” he replied.

This time we were the ones who were in a hurry. We both knew
what we were going to do. We had to find a spot so we could listen to every
detail of the next few minutes in the Hudgins’ household. Daddy’s wrath was
going to emerge, and we wanted to hear it all.

Confident that we had found the perfect spot to spy, Billy
parked his truck at the end of the same path we had visited once before. Except
this time, we were in the middle of a grove of cedar trees behind the barn.

“You don’t think they’ll see the truck from here?” I asked. I
was getting nervous. Memories of a not-so-long-ago nightmare bounced back into
my head.

“Calm down,” Billy said as he started digging out his
equipment. “Everything’s going to be fine. You worry too much. Now grab that
bag.” He pointed to a black bag in the cab. “It’s the dish, so be careful.”

An hour later, I was ready to call it quits. “What’s going
on? They haven’t said a word, not one word. All I hear is that stupid elevator
music they’ve been playing. Something’s not right, Billy.” I was getting
frustrated. This wasn’t normal.

“I was hoping he’d think we’d given up and left,” Billy said.
“He knew we were here the whole time.”

“Who knew?”

“The father knew. He’s no dummy. Come on. Let’s pack it in
for the day. We’re wasting our time,” Billy said as he disconnected his
equipment. “We’re finished. Let’s go home.”

“Why didn’t you tell me he knew we were out here?” I asked as
we packed the equipment.

“I was going to tell you once, but you’d dozed off.”

“I did not,” I joked. “I was just resting my eyes!”

He threw his head back, laughed and said, “Lesson number
four: If you think someone’s listening, turn on some music. If you talk low
they won’t hear a word you say.”

“Number four? What happened to one, two and three?”

“Jesse, you haven’t been paying attention,” he admonished me,
beginning his lecture. “You must always be prepared. Suspect and expect
anything. Don’t let anyone catch you with your pants down, whether you’re being
watched, or you’re the watcher.”

“Ah, words of wisdom by Billy Blackhawk,” I said, taunting
him. “You should write a book.”

Billy
had a few ideas
of his
own. “You might be completely wrong about Jay Hudgins,” he said as we crossed
over the
South River
Bridge
heading home. “What about Tom Dorey? Why don’t you suspect him? He could be the
guilty one.”

“He just doesn’t fit the profile.”

“What do you know about profile? Why, Jesse, have you been
studying behind my back?” He was mocking my southern accent.

“Honey,” I said, trying to drag out my southern drawl. “I’m
no dummy. I watch television!”

“Tell me what you’ve learned from this great institution of
higher learning. I’m dying to hear every detail.”

“I learned that gut feelings are worth more than words on paper,”
I summated. “What you see isn’t always what you get. The Hudgins look like
upstanding people on the outside, but on the inside, they have secrets. Secrets
they want to keep covered up because they’re dark and dirty.”

“You don’t think Tom Dorey is dark and dirty?”

“Look at his dossier. He’s just an average Joe. He’s never
been arrested—not even a parking ticket; goes to college; works part-time
pumping gas; and tends bar at the downtown mall in Charlottesville. His mind is
on his life. He has better things to do than go around killing people.”

“This is your gut feeling?”

“Yes, it is,” I said. “I might be wrong, but I don’t think
so.”

“Supposed we eliminate Jay and Tom, where would you go from
there?”

“I hadn’t considered that possibility,” I answered as we
pulled into the driveway. “I’ll have to think about it for a while.”

My cell phone rang just as I was picking my handbag up off
the truck floor. “Hello,” I said as I got out and walked toward the house.

“Jesse, I’m sorry to bother you, but I have an emergency,” I
heard my sister say. “I didn’t want to call the house because of Mom. I just
can’t face her now.”

“What’s the matter, Claire?”

“I got arrested two days ago for drunk driving. I didn’t mean
to. I was at a club with some of my friends. I didn’t realize I had that much
to drink. I’ve been so depressed lately.”

“Where were the kids when you got arrested?”

“Oh, they were safe. They were with a sitter. That’s not the
point. Carl’s threatening to take away the kids. He says no judge is going to
award custody to a drunk. What am I going to do?”

“Don’t worry about him,” I said. “He’s full of crap. Don’t
let him intimidate you.”

“I’m scared, Jesse.”

“Listen, Claire. He’s just blowing smoke. Forget about him
for now. Are you still planning to come next weekend?”

“Yes,” she whimpered.

“Why don’t you pack up the kids and come now. It’ll give us
plenty of time to decide what we’re going to do. Mom would love to have you
guys here for a whole week.” Without Carl, I thought to myself. “I’ll talk to
her and break the news about everything before you arrive.”

“Thanks, Jesse. I knew I could count on you. That’s a great
idea. I’ll get the kids ready. We’ll be there sometime tonight. Carl can just
kiss my... well, you know.”

I held my breath as I walked into the house. Mom was in for a
real eye-opener. I just hoped she could handle it.

Athena greeted us as we went into the kitchen. I bent down
and patted her head and said, “You smell good, girl. Did you get a bath?” I
looked at Mom and saw a big smile on her face.

“She sure did,” Mom said. “She got into something nasty, so
Cole helped me give her a bath before he left. He put her on top of the picnic
table in the backyard and hosed her down with the garden hose. She loved it! It
was so funny. You should’ve seen her. Cole was covered with shampoo, and all of
us got wet in the end.”

“You love this dog, don’t you, Mom?” Billy chimed in.

“Sure, I do,” she replied. “She’s so sweet. How could you not
love her? She’s a great companion.”

We stood there for a few minutes not saying anything. The
silence became unbearable.

“Mom, I have to talk to you,” I said, dreading every moment.
“Why don’t you come over here and sit down on the couch?”

“What’s wrong, dear,” she asked, drying her hands on a dish
towel as she walked over to the sofa. “You didn’t get shot at again, did you?”
She glanced away from me and looked straight at Billy, giving him a strange
look.

My mouth dropped to my knees. “How did you find out?”

“I’m a mother. Not much gets by me,” she proudly announced.
“Furthermore, Cole’s a lot smarter than you think. He got a call on his cell
phone and I overheard every word. It was about you and Billy. The boy who shot
you—his father’s lawyer is a friend of someone Cole knows. Cole did some
off-the-record snooping and found out all kinds of things. Now he knows
everything.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t want to lie to you, but I was
afraid you couldn’t handle the truth. Are you mad? Is Cole mad?” I asked.

“Well, he’s not happy,” she replied. “He wants you to call
him.”

“Rats.”

“See where lies will get you?”

“Hmm,” I said, thinking about how to handle this other
situation. I guess the truth is the only way. “Mom, Claire has a little
problem.” I said, and went on to explain all the dirty details of her
relationship with Carl, his infidelities, the fight and subsequent miscarriage
of the baby, right down to the drunk driving charge that he was hanging over
her head.

“Poor Claire,” Mom cried. “I have to call her. She needs me.”

“I just talked to her,” I said. “I convinced her to come home
and stay for a while. She’ll be here tonight.”

“Then I’d better get moving,” she insisted. “I need to get
the spare room ready.”

“What can we do to help?” Billy asked.

By dinnertime, everything in the spare room had been shoved
up against the wall, leaving plenty of room for the sofa bed to be folded out.
The kids could sleep with Claire. At their ages, they’d probably love it.

Billy and I sat at the picnic table discussing the case while
Mom fixed hamburgers on the grill.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” I commented. “If
you exclude Tom Dorey and Jay Hudgins, or anyone in the Hudgins family from the
list of suspects, I’d have to go with a serial killer. Who else is left?”

“Exactly,” he replied. “We need to consider every
possibility. We now have her purse, so we can pretty much assume that she’s
dead. As soon as I get the report from my friend at the research center, we’ll
go tell her parents what we have. They have a right to know.”

“Are we going to drive to Poquoson?”

The cell phone that Billy kept hooked on his belt rang.
“Uh-huh... Okay... Right... Thanks a lot. I owe you big time,” he said.

“What was that call about?” I asked. “Was that from your
friend who works at the lab?”

“Yes, it was,” he sighed. “That was Caroline. She says
there’s dried blood on the purse that matches the
DNA
sample of hair the Carroltons supplied to the police.
She also said she picked up three separate fingerprints. One of the prints
belongs to Helen, and one was her mother’s. The third one has yet to be
determined. She’s going to call me back when she comes up with an I.D. on the
third one.”

“Then we got him!” I shouted.

“Relax,” he said. “It might turn out to be a print that’s not
on file.”

“Not on file? I thought everybody had a print on file
somewhere.”

“Maybe... maybe not,” he replied. “With the advancements we
have in the computer age, anything is possible to erase. All you need is a good
hacker to do the job.”

“Scary, isn’t it?”

I watched as Mom removed the cooked hamburgers from the
grill. She placed them to the side, turned off the knobs and reached down and
shut off the gas. I was amazed at how self-sufficient she’d become.

“You’re getting pretty good at that,” I proudly said.

“Oh, this thing?” she asked, pointing to the grill. “Cole
showed me how to operate it. Once you learn how to use it, it’s not so scary
anymore.” She walked over to the table and sat down. “Dig in everybody. Oh
darn, I forgot the potato salad. Jesse, would you run inside and get it?”

“And bring the mustard,” Billy added.

“Who eats mustard on hamburgers?” I asked. “That’s gross!”

I heard the phone ring as soon as I opened the door.

“Hello,” I answered, stretching the cord to the
refrigerator. Carl’s voice was barely audible amongst the static and hissing.
“I can’t hear you Carl,” I screamed into the receiver. He was the last person I
wanted to talk to and I sure didn’t want him talking to Mom. “Call back later,”
I yelled and then hung up the phone. “And drop dead.”

I walked into the living room and picked up the portable
phone. Carl would surely call back, and I wanted to be ready. I took the phone,
the potato salad, and the mustard out to the backyard.

“Was that the phone I heard ring?” Mom asked.

“Yes,” I nodded. “It was Carl, your beloved son-in-law.”

“What did he want?”

“I don’t know. The line was full of static. I told him to
call back.”

I sat down and started piling food onto my plate, pretending
to be unaware of any possible dilemma that might be heading our way.

“If it’s important, he’ll call back. Isn’t that what you
always tell me?”

“You know what he wants. He’s a scumbag.”

“You called Carl a scumbag!” I was shocked at my mother’s
remark. “Since when did Carl become a scumbag?”

“Since he hurt my baby,” she retorted. “Boy, have I got a few
things to say to him! I dare him to call back.” She leaned across the table and
grabbed the phone before I had a chance to stop her. “Give me that phone. I’ll
show him a thing or two.”

This was getting nasty. I hadn’t seen my mother this angry in
a long time. Carl was in for a good chewing out, and I wanted to be around to
hear it. I didn’t want to miss a single word. At the same time, this would be
the perfect chance to tell him about my fantasy concerning him and a bear. I
had to snicker at the thought.

Billy leaned over to me and said, “Did we miss something?”

“No,” I smiled. “It was just something I remembered.”

The warm June afternoon was pleasant. The cool breeze in the
air kept the day from being so hot. Normally, back home, by this time of year,
the heat and humidity would drive you inside. By August, you wouldn’t want to
go outside, and if you did, it wouldn’t be for long. But here in the mountains
it was almost July and you could stay outside all day and not feel like you
were going to suffocate.

“Does it get stifling hot late in the summer?” I asked Billy.
This would be our first summer here. I wondered how it compared to our summers
in
Newport News
. Living on a peninsula, you’d think
there would always be a breeze from the ocean, but that’s not so. We lived
inland and the afternoons could be dry and blistering.

“In late August it can get a little warm, but it’s not bad.
Most people don’t even run the air-conditioning until then.”

“That’s...” I started to say when the phone rang.

Mom snatched it up and spoke. “Hello,” she said, putting her
hand over the phone to cover her voice. “If this is Carl, perhaps the two of
you should leave.”

“Not on your life,” I said.

“No way!” Billy joined in.

For the next ten minutes, Mom gave Carl the tongue-lashing he
deserved. Billy sat there in amazement, occasionally making remarks about what
a tough cookie Mom could be. Finally, she handed me the phone and said, “He
wants to talk to you.”

I buried the phone in my hand. “What did he say?” All I had
gotten from her side of the conversation were yells and accusations. She had
really let him have it. “What were his excuses?”

“The same bull all men use when they’re caught being bad
boys,” she snapped. “She doesn’t understand me. It’s not my fault. I made a
mistake... or the lie some of them have the nerve to use... it’s not true.” She
sounded like she had first-hand experience. Had my Dad been unfaithful to my
mom? The thought nagged at me as I put my ear to the receiver.

“What do you want, Carl?” I spit.

Mom got up and started clearing the table, making grunting
and hissing noises the whole time. They were the same noises that Billy makes
when he talks to me. The two of them were alike in many ways. They showed their
displeasure with gestures or mumblings, and when they were happy or excited,
they always wanted to hug you. I was just the opposite. When I was mad, I’d
yell. When I was happy, I became quiet.

Carl whined in my ear. “Jesse, you need to talk to your mom.
I tried to tell her that this was all a misunderstanding. We’re just having a
little spat. Now she’s gone and blown it all out of proportion.”