Immoral (4 page)

“Sometimes. But they can be useful.”

“Yes, I suppose. I appreciate your coming here, Lieutenant. Rachel is a difficult young girl, and I would hate to see any harm come to her.”

“How long have you known her?” Stride asked.

“Since she was a child.”

Stride nodded.
BG
, he thought. “When did she begin to have troubles?”

Tenby sighed. “As Emily mentioned, it was after her father’s death. Rachel was utterly devoted to Tommy. She couldn’t bear the loss, and I think she turned all her anger and grief against her mother.”

“How long ago was that?”

Dayton pursed his lips and stared at the vaulted ceiling as he thought back. “Rachel was eight when he died, I believe, so it was about nine years ago.”

“Tell me, Reverend, what do you think happened here? Could Rachel have left on her own? A runaway?”

Dayton Tenby seemed divinely sure of himself. “Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but that’s what I believe. I really think you’ll find, when all is said and done, that she’s out there somewhere, laughing at us.”

Emily downed the last swallow of brandy and pushed herself off the recliner. As Dayton Tenby returned to the room, she held out her empty glass. “I need another.”

Tenby took the glass and returned to the living room to refill her drink. Emily watched him go, then spoke to Graeme without shifting her gaze. “I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

“That’s all right. How’s Janie?”

“She’s fine,” Emily said. “I meant to call.”

“I told you it doesn’t matter.”

Emily nodded, feeling hollow. “I thought you’d be angry.”

“Not at all.”

“Did you miss me?”

Graeme waved his hand, dismissing the question as if it were nothing. “What a stupid thing to say. You know I’m lost without you. Yesterday, I wanted to go hiking, and I couldn’t even find my tennis shoes.”

“Shoes,” Emily murmured, shaking her head.

Tenby reappeared. The portion of brandy in the glass he carried looked smaller than the last one. Emily took the glass and finished it in a single swallow, ignoring the burn that the liquor caused in her throat. She handed Tenby the glass and turned away. She wiped her eyes, but it was too late. She knew he had seen the tears.

“She’s doing it just to punish me,” Emily said. “It’s a game with her.”

“It may be more about Tommy than it is about you. Even after all these years,” Tenby said.

“Tommy,” she said bitterly.

“Emily, he was her father,” Tenby reminded her. “She was eight years old, and her daddy could do no wrong.”

“Yes, everybody loved Tommy,” Emily said. “And I was always the bitch. No one ever understood what he did to us.”

“I did,” Tenby said.

Emily took his hand. “Yes, I know. Thank you. And thank you for coming over here tonight. I think I would have gone to pieces without you around.”

Graeme stood up. “I’ll walk you out, Dayton,” he said, a veneer of politeness in his voice. “I’ll make sure the press doesn’t hassle you along the way.”

Tenby was dwarfed by the larger man as the two of them retreated from the porch. Emily watched them go, listening to their footsteps, hearing the noises of the crowd outside as the front door opened, then the tomblike silence of the house as the door closed.

She was alone.

Even when she was with Graeme these days, she felt alone.

He said all the right things, and treated her well, and gave her the freedom to lead her own life, but he didn’t pretend that there was any passion between them anymore. She wondered if he felt anything at all for her. She had deliberately not called from St. Louis, wanting to make him angry, wanting him to yearn for her enough to call her himself. If he called, if he missed her, if he screamed at her, at least she would see some of his emotions.

But he didn’t need her. Except when he couldn’t find his shoes.

And then to come home and find Rachel was gone. For years she had expected it, wondering when her daughter would leave her a note and run away. Sometimes she had even wished for it, as a way to end the hostility and restore some peace to her life. She had never realized how empty she would feel when it really happened, when all she could do was think about the missed opportunities that had kept them divided. She had long since accepted that Rachel would never know how deeply Emily loved her, in spite of the venom the girl had directed at her for so many years. Even when she tried to stop loving her, she couldn’t.

Gone.

What if she hadn’t run away? What if she ended up like that other girl, snatched off the street?

“Where are you, baby?” she said.

Emily heard noises in the front hall as the door opened and Graeme returned. She didn’t want to see him. She couldn’t balance all of it, her estrangement from Graeme, her grief over Rachel. Emily got up quickly and fled through the kitchen to the back stairs. She listened as Graeme returned to the porch. She imagined him glancing at the empty room, realizing she was gone. Emily didn’t expect him to follow her, and he didn’t. She could barely make out the tapping of keys as he sat down at his desk and worked on his computer. She hurried up the stairs to the second floor.

She wouldn’t sleep in their bedroom tonight. He wouldn’t miss that, either.

Emily went to Rachel’s room. She smelled strangers there, the sweaty aroma of the police who had pawed through Rachel’s desk and dresser that night. In truth, the room itself was a stranger to her, because she had hardly stepped foot inside while Rachel was home. It was her daughter’s private fortress, and Emily of all people wasn’t allowed.

The room was largely barren. There were no posters up on the walls, only a pale coating of yellow paint. Her dirty clothes were piled in the corner, in and out of a white basket. She had a stack of schoolbooks, some open, some closed, spread randomly across the desk, with wrinkled notepapers, half-filled with Rachel’s scrawl, sticking out of the pages. Only her bed was carefully made—the one part of the room Rachel allowed the maid to touch.

Emily lay down on the bed, pulled her legs up, and curled her arms around them. She saw the photo, placed lovingly on her daughter’s nightstand, of Rachel bundled up in her father’s arms. Emily reached out with one hand and tipped the frame over, so she didn’t have to stare at it.

As she looked at the nightstand, however, she realized she couldn’t escape the past so easily. Next to the clock radio, perched on its hind legs, was a stuffed pink pig, adorned with black plastic sunglasses. A souvenir from the Minnesota State Fair.

Nine years later, and Rachel still kept it by her bed.

“Tommy,” Emily sighed.

Tommy hoisted Rachel onto his shoulders. Now taller than everyone around her, Rachel opened her mouth in wonder at the sight of all the people, crammed together shoulder to shoulder, from one side of the street to the other. There were tens of thousands of them, a sweaty, squirming mass, baking in the heat and humidity of a late August evening
.

“
It’s amazing, Daddy!” Rachel cried
.

“
Didn’t I promise you?” Tommy said. “Isn’t this great?” He lifted Rachel high in the air, swirled her around, and swooped her to the ground
.

“
Can we do the midway now?” Rachel sang out
.

Emily had to laugh. She suspected that was the last thing Tommy wanted. All day long, she had watched Tommy and Rachel bury themselves in the fair. Tommy ate everything, swallowing deep-fried cheese curds like popcorn and washing them down with giant plastic cups of ice-cold beer. He ate corn dogs, pork chops, onion blossoms, roasted corn slathered in butter, fried ravioli, and bag after bag of minidoughnuts. And now the rides would churn his stomach like a blender. But Tommy never said no to Rachel
.

By the time they reached the midway, it was a tornado of light. Darkness had turned the carnival into a fairyland, where a sea of people screamed and their faces reflected a rainbow of colors from the rides streaking overhead. Rachel wanted to do everything. It didn’t matter how fast the ride went, or how high, or how many times she spun upside down with her hair tumbling below her. She took Tommy on the Ring of Fire, going up and over in circles, then the Giant Swing, then the Octopus, then the Avalanche, then the Tornado. Emily was secretly pleased to see that Tommy was looking green
.

It took them nearly two hours to work their way down one row of carnival rides, then back up the next. They wandered by the baseball game, run by a seedy barker in a devil’s costume, with a button pinned on his red suit that said
WELCOME TO HELL
. He smiled, revealing two chocolate brown front teeth, and invited Tommy to try his hand
.

“
Break three plates, win the grand prize,” he said
.

“
What’s the grand prize?” Rachel asked
.

The devil pointed at a giant stuffed bear, fat and soft and nearly as tall as Rachel. The girl’s eyes widened, and she looked longingly at Tommy, hanging on his arm. “Can you win it for me, Daddy
?”

“
You bet I can
.”

The devil handed Tommy three baseballs. Tommy juggled two in his right hand and wound up with his left
.

“
You’re drunk, Tommy,” Emily warned him. “And you don’t look good
.”

Tommy fired the first ball into the dead center of one of the ceramic plates. The plate smashed into shards, falling amid the litter of the booth, and the ball slammed into the aluminum wall with a bang
.

“
You did it, Daddy! You did it
!”

Tommy grinned. He let the second ball fly, and crash, bang, another plate shattered
.

“
One more, Daddy, and you win!” Rachel cried
.

“
Make a place for that bear on your bed, honey,” Tommy told her
.

He readied himself for the next pitch, cocking his meaty arm. The crowd gathering behind them tensed, expecting another bang, waiting for the plate to explode
.

Instead, the ball dribbled off Tommy’s hand, bounced on the counter, and landed on the ground with a thud. The devil laughed. The people around the booth groaned with disappointment. Tommy’s knees buckled, and he grabbed his arm, screaming. His face was contorted and red
.

Emily said the first thing that popped into her head and instantly regretted it. “Damn it, Tommy, you haven’t thrown a baseball in years. What the hell were you trying to prove
?”

Rachel shot her mother an angry stare. Tommy bit his lip so hard that a pearl of blood formed and slipped onto his chin. Rachel rubbed it away with her hand
.

“
I’m sorry, honey,” Tommy said to Rachel
.

The old man at the counter, still chuckling, waved at Tommy. “Don’t forget your prize.” He held up a small stuffed pink pig, with black sunglasses, and tossed it to Tommy
.

Tommy looked embarrassed as he handed it to Rachel, but Rachel held the pig as if it were even better than the grand prize. “I love it, Daddy,” she said, and as he leaned down, she kissed him lightly on the lips
.

It was as if Emily had been stabbed in the heart. She was jealous, and she hated herself for it. “I guess it’s time to go home,” she said
.

Rachel had other ideas. As they wandered away from the booth, the ride known as the Ejection Seat suddenly sprang to life in front of them, a circular chair of steel tossed like a rock from a slingshot, carrying two screaming passengers. A microphone embedded in the chair carried their hysterical cries out over the fair
.

“
Wow,” Rachel said in a hushed voice. “Do you think I could do that
?”

Emily interrupted. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Rachel. Your father’s not feeling well, and you’re too young for a ride like that
.”

“
You don’t look too young to me,” Tommy said. “And I feel great
.”

“
Come on, Tommy, don’t be foolish,” Emily said
.

Tommy winked at his daughter. “What do we say, Rachel
?”

Rachel looked at her mother and sang out in her most girlish voice, “Bitch, bitch, bitch
!”

Emily was stunned. She tugged on Tommy’s arm and whispered in his ear. “You taught her to say that to me? Are you crazy
?”

“
Shit, Emily, it’s only a joke
.”

“
Fine, take the fucking ride,” she hissed, hating herself for letting Tommy get a rise out of her
.

He pretended to be shocked. “Mommy used a bad word
.”

Rachel held Tommy’s hand triumphantly. They headed together toward the ride, and then Rachel looked back. She called out, as if it were a wonderful joke, “Fuck you, Mommy
.”

Emily took two steps closer, swinging her hand back, ready to strike her. She wanted so badly to slap her daughter’s face. But she froze, holding back. She began sobbing. She watched them wander away, paying no attention to her as she cried, drawing stares from the people passing by. She wiped her cheeks, then pushed through the crowd toward the spectator area near the Ejection Seat. She would do what she had done all along. Cheer for them. For the husband who made her feel like an insect, and for the daughter he had taught to hate her
.

As they strapped Tommy and Rachel into the Ejection Seat, a spotlight hit them, and Emily could see their faces clearly
.

Rachel was beaming, fearless as ever
.

But Tommy was pale, his face bone white, sweat pouring down his forehead
.

A horrifying awareness began to dawn on Emily, as she realized that Tommy’s condition had nothing to do with the fair and nothing to do with a pulled muscle. Instead, it had everything to do with his father, who had dropped dead at thirty-seven, and his grandfather, who had only made it to age thirty before ending up in the ground
.

“Don’t ask me to grow up, Emily,”
he had said to her once in a sober moment
.