Secrets in the Lowcountry--The River (29 page)

“No one
w
as
w
ith the boat,
”
Larry added quickly.

Jeff
heard and sa
w
her take a deep breath. Once he assured himself she
w
as okay, he
centered
his
attention on the DNR spokesman.
Doc mimicked his reactions.

“M
arsh grasses
trapped the skiff
in a small tributary, not far from Brays Creek.”

Taylor
pulled her top
ha
nd
away and
grabbed the
armrest
as she
concentrat
ed
on
Larry.
Jeff covered her hand
w
ith his
, squeezed, and sent
her an encouraging smile.
For an instant, she
peeked
at him. Tears filled her eyes; she bit her bottom lip
w
ith front teeth. If only he could transfer her pain to himself. He hated being unable to do more than hold her hand.
His attention shifted to
Larry
and
brought him back. 

“
The DNR and the
W
ater and Rescue department
w
on’t stop looking for him
w
hen
w
e’re out on patrol.
W
e’ve asked the commercial crabbers, shrimpers, and fishing guides to keep their eyes peeled for gear or anything else.”
He
faltered.

Jeff
tightened his hold on her hand
w
hile his mind
sought a
w
ay to ease her distress
.
He’d n
oted Larry had not
said body or portions of a body;
scrutinizing Taylor
,
he recognized she’d heard
the unspoken
w
ord
s
for the color had drained from her
.
She had lived by the
w
ater all her life.
No one
w
ho had seen a fish he
ad after being che
w
ed by crabs c
ould fail to vis
ualize
w
hat they
and other sea life
w
ill
do
to a person.
The eyes al
w
ays go first
, his brain continued.
Larry began talking
,
thankfully halting
Jeff’s morbid thoughts.

“
I’m about to say something that everyone in this room understands.
” He hesitated again.
“
Although Rod
’s
only been missing a short time, i
n this area,
three days might as
w
ell be three months.
” He
w
avered
, giving Taylor all his
attention
. “
Taylor
,
I don’t hold much hope of finding Rod alive.”
Regret sho
w
ed in his tone.

“He can’t be dead!” she screamed
.
Doc patted her on her back and
w
hispered her name softly.

“I’
m sorry, Taylor
. Really
sorry.
”
O
bviously
Larry
sa
w
her b
lanched face
and had expected the outburst
.
“
I’m sorry to be so blunt, honey
, but a fact is a fact.”

If only I
could hold her and
let her absorb my strength
,
Jeff thought. He clenched his teeth to prevent himself from saying anything that might be embarrassing to Taylor.

Her hand turned
so that her palm
touched Jeff’s and he tightened his
grip.
He could see
from the
w
hiteness of her knuckles
that she’d
tightened her
hold
on her f
ather
, too
.
“
W
here do
w
e g
o from here?” she asked, in a quiet, squeaky voice.

Jeff had al
w
ays admired her strength, but today she’d sho
w
n him her resolve to face a horrible situation and survive.

Larry c
ircled the chair, moved in front of her and knelt do
w
n.
“As I said,
w
e’ll keep looking, but the
odds are definitely against us.”
He
placed his hands on her shoulders. “T
he
high
tides
w
e’re having no
w
plus the
fast
er
currents make finding him alive
very
slight.” He tightened his grip
as if
w
aiting
to
determine
if she could handle
w
hat he
w
ould say next. “As for the autopsies of the ‘gators,
w
e’ll have that information tomorro
w
.”

S
hrugg
ing
a
w
ay from him,
she
collapsed against her dad and
sobbed
.
Silence filled the room except for the soft, choked sounds
emanating
from Taylor.

For Jeff, the clock stood still for an eternity
.
Eventually, she sat back.
He mentally breathed a small sigh of relief
w
hen he examined her face.
Rivers of tears still flo
w
ed, but
no noise came from her.

“Jeff, can you take her
outside?” Doc asked.

“No.” She straightened
her shoulders
, grabbed a tissue from the end table and ble
w
hard. “I must kno
w
everything.”

Martin kept his arm around her. “Are you sure?
I can get the information and tell you later.
”

Needing to find another topic for her to center on, Jeff asked,
“Sheriff,
w
hy are you here?”

Sheriff Leroy Trotz
turned
his head slo
w
ly. H
e held each person’s eyes for an instant. “
My department
will
head
up the investigation from here on.
”

“Investigation?
” Jeff and Doc asked, in a shocked tone.

Taylor chimed in, “
W
hat investigation
, Sheriff Trotz
?”
Her face filled
w
ith confusion.

“
W
he
n
someone goes missing …
”

Taylor flinched.
“He’s only been gone three days
.
”

“L
a
w
requires us to step in
w
hen
a person g
oes missing. I joined Larry to
tell y’
a
ll.
W
e’ll
pursue this situation and find an ans
w
er.”
His short, no-nonsense statements expressed his strong sentiments.

“Thanks, Sheriff.
W
e all require ans
w
ers,” Doc said.

“And I’m not giving up hope.” Taylor’s eyes glistened
w
ith tears
.
Jeff heard a
steadfastness that had been absent during most of the meeting
.

“A
ny questions, call me.
Taylor, Dr.
Harris
, Jeff.”
The tall, lean, black man shook each hand in turn before heading for the door.

“I have to get back to
w
ork,” said Larry.
“Taylor, I promised to find him for you and I’m sorry that I’ve broken my
w
ord.”

“
W
e
’ll
find him, Mr. Larry.”

Doc took Larry’s hand. “
Thank you for coming and for everything that you and your people have done.”
Martin
w
alked
him
to the door.
They stood f
or a fe
w
minutes talking softly
then they
w
alked outside together.

Taylor continued sitting
.
Jeff a
w
k
w
ardly
remained in
the chair next to hers–
w
aiting.
After
w
hat seemed like forever
, she rose to her feet
.
“I’m going to
change my clothes and visit
the barn.
My horses al
w
ays help to center me.”
She fled the room.
Jeff
w
atched her go.
He
ached
inside for her and for himself.

* ~
*

Friday finally arrived.
Taylor hoped
w
ith her mother’s internment, she could close at least one s
w
ing door.
She stood in her closet
surveying
her clothes.
The black sheath glared at her.
She had not as yet given it a
w
ay.
W
ith heavy arms, she reached for the outfit
and
slipped it on.
After today, the dress
w
ould definitely find another home.

Her father drove the
m to the church’s cemetery.
Taylor rode ‘shotgun’.
W
hy she should think of that name after so many years puzzled her.
Aunt Bertha
sat
perched in the rear seat murmuring her prayers and occasionally humming a hymn. As they alighted
from the car, her aunt
firmly grabbed Martin’s hand
w
ith one of hers. In the other, she held a cane, Taylor
suddenly
realized.
A
unt Bertha never used one before. She surveyed her great-aunt from the corner of her eye.
Ho
w
old she’s gotten in the last fe
w
days. Perhaps, she should have help
at home
.
She al
w
ays insisted having a ‘girl’ one day a
w
eek
w
as enough. Seeing her, Taylor doubted the
w
isdom of that.
I must talk to Dad.

T
hey slo
w
ly made their
w
ay to their family crypt
, matching their steps
w
ith Great-aunt Bertha
.
A
s they dre
w
near,
Taylor
focused on the dirt path
leading to the site
, avoiding the family mausoleum. Instead, s
he concentrated on the
light dust
settling
on her black pumps.

“Trey
and Jeff have come, as
w
ell as Mary,” her father said.

Taylor raised her head
, seeing them standing directly in front of the r
elatively modest
brick and tabby
structure.
She managed a smile
at the sight of them
.
Ho
w
thoughtful
of
the Benjamin
s
’
.
T
hey, like Mary,
w
ere
part of
her extended family.
Eventually, she noticed
Father
Mike
,
al
w
ays a rock
for everyone. Beside him
Mr.
W
hite
,
the undertaker,
stood
holding the
urn.
He gave a slight smile and nodd
ed his head to ackno
w
ledge their arrival
.