In Search of Eden (27 page)

“Except transporting a minor, who is away from home without permission, and, I suspect, driving without insurance. May I see your driver's license and proof of insurance?”

Miranda shook her head and fumed. “I'm being harassed,” she said. “And I still want an explanation.”

“Eden!” His voice was raised. “Step out of the car right now.”

She opened the door and got out. “I'm sorry, Uncle Joseph,” she said.

Miranda closed her eyes.
Uncle Joseph.
Well, that was great. Just great.

“Your driver's license and insurance card?” he repeated.

She handed him her license and waited while he wrote out
another ticket. City Hall was closed, so at least she wouldn't have him following her back to town.

She signed the ticket and threw her copy on the seat beside her.

“Miranda, can I get my bike?” Eden asked in a small voice.

“Sure,” she said and got out and opened the trunk.

Policeman Joseph grabbed it and had it stowed in the back of his car before she could move to do it herself. Eden got into the passenger side of the unmarked car looking unhappy. Uncle Joseph followed Miranda back as she got back into Mr. Cooper's Caddy.

“What are you doing here?” he asked quietly. His eyes were cold, his expression grim.

She gave him what she hoped was an equally cold glare. “That's none of your business.”

He eyed her, and she wondered if he would arrest her on the spot. He seemed to be thinking the same thing. “I need to get her home. Her grandmother is worried sick. Otherwise I'd arrest you.”

“On what charge?” Her tone was outraged, her voice raised. Eden looked very unhappy.

“Aiding in the delinquency of a minor, for starters.”

“Oh, that's absolutely ridiculous, and you know it. I saw her and a boy riding in the dark and offered to drive her home. That's all. You can ask at the library. I've been there—alone—all evening.”

He lost the know-it-all look and glanced back at Eden. When he looked back at Miranda, his expression still wasn't friendly, but at least she didn't think she'd be tossed into the pokey tonight.

“If I find you driving that car again without insurance, I'll have it impounded.”

Miranda didn't answer. Her tongue was feeling raw and tooth-marked. She started the car.

He stood there watching her as she drove away, then turned away toward his own car. She drove back to the motel muttering and shaking her head and feeling sorry for poor Eden.

chapter
27

R
uth waited by the window, watching for Joseph and Eden to return. Joseph had still been at the office when she had called him, a state of affairs for which she usually scolded him, but tonight she was grateful. He had come straight over. She hadn't had time to tell him why Eden had been so upset. As soon as he understood that she had run off again, he had become furious in that tight-lipped, controlled way he had. “I'll find her,” he had said. Ruth had no doubt he would.

She had been waiting no more than twenty-five minutes or so when he returned. She could see Eden's outline in the passenger seat, and she said a quick prayer of thanks. No one spoke when they came in. Eden gave her a guilty look and then ran up the stairs. Joseph shook his head.

“I don't understand what's come over her,” he said. “She was doing fine. She likes her adventures, but there was nothing like this.”

“I'm afraid I understand,” Ruth said, and she watched his face harden even more as she explained about the telephone call from David and Sarah.

“I think she feels abandoned,” Ruth said.

“Anyone would.” A tightening of his jaw was the only sign of emotion.

“Well, what would you do?” she challenged, suddenly tired of the tug-of-war between these warring factions of her family. “David is lying helpless in a hospital bed. If it's all
we
can do to keep up with her, how do you expect him to manage?”

“It's not him I'm expecting something from,” Joseph said.

Ruth closed her eyes and prayed for patience and wisdom.
When will you give up this bitterness?
she wanted to fling at him.
When will you forgive?
She said nothing. Just took another deep breath, prayed silently, and faced the situation before her now. “We need to decide what to do about Eden's behavior tonight,” she said as calmly as she could.

Now his face did soften. He sat down in the chair and ran his hands through his hair. He looked tired.

“Have you had any supper?” she asked.

He looked surprised, then shook his head. “No. I guess not.”

“Come with me,” she invited, and he followed her into the kitchen and sat down at the small table while she worked. She put on a pot of coffee and brought out her old cast-iron skillet. She quickly chopped up an onion and cubed three potatoes, seasoning them and browning them in the skillet. She rummaged around in the refrigerator and found a green pepper and some ham to chop up and add to the pan. When it was all sautéed, she added three eggs, threw a handful of grated cheese on top, and served her son a steaming plateful, along with toast and a cup of coffee, then put the kettle on to make herself some tea.

Joseph tucked into his food. Ruth went upstairs to see if Eden was hungry, but she was already asleep, lying fully dressed on top of the bedspread. Besides, from the sticky residue around her mouth, Ruth judged that wherever she'd been, they'd served refreshments. She pulled the quilt up over Eden's shoulders, shut the door quietly, and went back downstairs.

Joseph was finishing up his meal and looking a bit more cheerful when she returned to the kitchen, and her water was
boiling. She made herself a cup of her friend Vi's own organically grown calming tea with chamomile and passionflower. She sipped and prayed quietly, and between the Lord and the medicinal herbs and the plate of hobo hash and cup of good, strong coffee, both she and Joseph were calmer when they faced each other over Joseph's empty plate.

“Thank you,” he said, leaning back and sighing in satisfaction. “I don't think I've had anything to eat since this morning and nothing that good since the last meal you cooked for me.”

Ruth thought about lecturing him but smiled instead. “You know you're welcome, son.” She sipped and he sipped, and after a moment he spoke, rubbing his hand over his mouth and chin before he did so. She had heard that meant something in body language, but she couldn't remember what. She felt like pulling out her hair, a less subtle cue.

“So tell me again about Eden's conversation with David,” he said quietly.

She shrugged. “I don't think there's much more to tell,” she said. “I wasn't listening in, but from her side of the conversation I gathered David told her they aren't coming back this month, as they'd first thought.”

Joseph was silent then, as was she. Probably both of them were realizing that coping with trauma and rehabilitation would be made even more difficult by Eden, the brave and the free. She smiled. Joseph did, as well.

“She is a handful,” he said.

Ruth nodded.

“Okay.” Joseph nodded.

Ruth was again amazed at his strength. How many times had she seen him do this? Face some trouble or trial, and after a brief surge of emotion, set it aside and begin to “work the problem,” as he would say.

“I guess we need to decide how to handle this episode.”

“Where was she?” Ruth asked.

Joseph's face creased into worry. “She was in the car with a
woman I've seen around. She said Eden was riding her bike with a boy, and she offered her a lift.”

“A boy?”

He nodded.

“You don't suppose she's . . .”

He dismissed the thought with a shake of his head. “Nah. Probably just a buddy. I don't see any of the signs of anything more. But it worries me. If it's the same friend as last time, they were playing up on Amos Schwartz's land, and it looked like they weren't the only ones. Somebody was squatting up there—camping out—and I wonder if it was Travelers. It worries me that she and her friend were so close to people who might have been up to no good. Knowing Eden, she was doing surveillance or some such.”

Ruth felt her usual dismay at Joseph's suspicions. She supposed it was his job, but she wished he could be a little more trusting.

“Besides,” he said, “I don't know any of the players.”

Ruth agreed. “However, I'm a little glad she has some sort of friend, at least. But I'd like to meet him. He must live within riding distance,” she said, and smiled at Eden's resourcefulness in spite of her concern.

“I know. But this woman bothers me. I have a feeling she's mixed up in something.”

“Why?”

“She drives without insurance,” he said, barely suppressing a smile. “And she's got a mouth on her.”

“Sounds like a lot of people around here,” Ruth said dryly and took another sip of her tea.

“Actually, I don't know why I don't trust her. JDFR, I guess.”

Ruth smiled.
Just Doesn't Feel Right
was Joseph's name for times when his instincts warned him of something his brain didn't see. She had taught both boys about it growing up, calling it the “uh-oh feeling.”
“Always listen to the uh-oh feeling,”
she'd said.
“You don't need to figure out why. When you feel it, just get away as quickly
as you can. You can understand later.”
She nodded at Joseph soberly. If his gut was telling him there was more to the situation than appeared obvious, he was probably right.

“I'm looking into her,” he said. “I'm going to run her through the system tomorrow and see if she has a record.”

“And I'll see if I can find out more about this boy,” Ruth said. “But in the meantime, what do you think? Another restriction? And how long this time?”

Joseph paused and rubbed his mouth again.

She was going to have to look up that body language thing.

Finally he shook his head. “You're always talking about the healing power of grace,” he said with a wry smile. “Let's try it out.”

Ruth felt a rush of peace, as if her small ship of emotions had been righted. “That sounds good,” she said. “But I'll talk to her about her choices first.”

“So will I,” Joseph said.

He got up, carried his plate to the sink, and patted her clumsily on the shoulder. She laid her small hand over his large one, and it felt as if their strength merged. Perhaps they would make it through this time after all.

Miranda left the car at the motel the next morning, walked the short way into town, and paid for last night's ticket. She wasn't exactly sure what “Uncle Joseph” would do if she didn't, but she didn't think she wanted to find out. She seethed with resentment and on an impulse walked a few blocks farther down Main Street to the police department. There was a glass-fronted reception desk whose attendant was conveniently on the phone. Miranda walked past her, rode the elevator up, then walked surreptitiously up and down the hallways, glancing into doorways.

Aha. There he was. The sign on the door said
Investigative Division Supervisor, Joseph Williams.
So why was he giving her traffic
tickets and harassing her? Weren't there criminals to catch? She stood at an angle beyond his line of vision and peeked in. He was at his desk already. Wearing a light blue shirt, the sleeves of which he had already rolled up to the elbow and a tie that he had already loosened. Tough day and it was only nine o'clock. He was at his computer and deep in thought, jabbing at the keyboard now and then, and rubbing his hand over his mouth. She watched for a few seconds more, then crept away, feeling slightly foolish.

She rode the elevator down and went outside. It was a beautiful day. She walked for a while and saw the Methodist church where she had rested the day before. The marble steps were still there and inviting. She went to them, sat down, dumped out the contents of her purse, and counted her money. It wasn't a pretty picture. Eventually she would be all right, after the will was probated and the house sold, but she had used the rest of Mama's checking account to pay off bills and had given Aunt Bobbie the contents of Mama's savings account to use in getting the house fixed up and ready to sell. There were several not so minor repairs that needed to be done. She had come to Abingdon with what was to have been spending money for her trip. She wondered how much longer she would be able to stay without a job.

She walked to the library and read the want ads, copied the information from a few, and was just thinking of whether to call Mr. Cooper and arrange for some insurance or risk driving without it when the school kids came in. She checked her watch. It was only noon. They must have had early dismissal for some reason.

The mean girls came in and sat down in their customary places. She looked for the red-haired boy but didn't see him. She looked around for Eden, and sure enough, here she came, carrying her backpack and wearing a green T-shirt today. The horse shirt must be in the wash. Miranda was somewhat surprised to see her. She had expected the wings to be clipped if Uncle Joseph's reaction was any indication.