Silent Killer (16 page)

“No, Daddy.” Her voice trembled. “It’s my fault, not Seth’s. He…he didn’t want to leave the rally.” She dropped her head and swallowed her tears. “I’m sorry. Forgive me. Please…oh, please.”

Cathy whispered to Donnie. “Your daughter needs your understanding right now. Can’t you see she’s scared?”

“Yes, yes, of course. You’re right.” Donnie practically shoved Seth aside as he reached out and wrapped his arms around Missy’s shoulders. She tensed at his touch.

Cathy thought it odd that the girl didn’t immediately turn into her father’s arms to seek comfort.

Mike Birkett called for everyone’s attention, and the room quieted instantly. “Okay, everybody, listen up. We’ve taken statements from all the kids brought in by Deputies Dryer and Gipson. Ricky Baker has been arrested. He provided the beer and the marijuana. Felicity, since you admitted to both drinking and smoking pot, I’m afraid we have no choice but to charge you, but since you’re only seventeen and this is your first offense, I’ll personally recommend a fine and community service.”

“Am I going to jail?” Felicity asked.

“No, I’ll release you into your parents’ custody tonight. A date will be set for you, your parents and your lawyer to appear in juvenile court.”

“What about the others?” John Earl Harper asked.

“Lacey Sims and Neal Prater will also be charged, since they, too, were drinking. And they’ll have to appear in juvenile court. Charity Harper, Missy Hovater and Seth Cantrell will be released to their parents tonight, and no charges will be brought against them since everyone agreed that they were not drinking or smoking pot. But I warn all three of you”—his gaze moved over each of them—“let this be a lesson to y’all not to follow the crowd. You’re getting off light this time.”

Donnie grabbed Missy’s upper arm. “Let’s go, young lady.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

When Seth made a move toward Missy, Cathy clutched his hand. He glared at her. She shook her head.

Cathy wanted to say something, to somehow intervene, just as her son did, but she knew the relationship between Donnie and his daughter was none of her business. She had her hands full dealing with Seth, knowing that she had no choice but to involve his grandparents.

“Are you ready to go?” she asked.

“What’s Brother Hovater going to do to Missy? She was really scared about how he’d react.”

“Just as you’re scared about how your grandfather will react?”

“Sort of, yeah, but the way she was acting, you’d think she believed he was going to beat her or something.”

“She’s a girl, and girls in general usually show their emotions in a way most boys don’t,” Cathy explained. “She’s probably worried about disappointing her father, just as you are about disappointing your grandparents.”

“I disappointed you, too, didn’t I, Mom?”

“You’ll disappoint me only if you don’t learn from this mistake.”

He nodded. “Can I go home with you?”

“Of course you can. But in a few hours, I’ll have to call your grandparents and explain what happened. Then you’ll have to face them.”

“Will you go with me and stay with me while I talk to them?”

It was all Cathy could do to stop herself from hugging Seth the way she had when he’d been a little boy and had skinned a knee or cut a finger. “Of course, I’ll stay with you. As a matter of fact, I’ll ask J.B. and Mona to come to my house to talk. How’s that?”

He swallowed hard. “That’s great, Mom. Thanks.”

As she and her son reached the exit, she glanced back at Jack, who stood nearby. Her gaze locked with his, just for half a second, but long enough for her to sense his concern. She offered him a fragile smile that said “Thank you.”

He marched her straight to her bedroom and shoved her facedown across her bed. She wept and pleaded, but he didn’t listen, didn’t care.

Please, God, help me.

“I’m sorry. I promise I’ll never—”

“Make all the promises you want, but they won’t change what you did tonight, how you embarrassed me. You know I have to punish you.”

She sobbed uncontrollably, knowing what was about to happen. Her body tensed when he reached under her and unzipped her jeans. She held her breath when he yanked her jeans down her hips to her knees, taking her panties down with them. With her bare buttocks exposed, she braced herself for the first blow. She clutched the bedspread.

The whiz of his belt as it came through the belt loops when he removed it from his slacks echoed in the silence. The first stinging hit was usually the worst. She knew he wanted her to cry out, and if she didn’t, he would only inflict more pain with each strike.

I hate him. I wish he was dead.

He whipped her repeatedly, and because she muffled her whimpers by burying her face in the bedspread, he struck her quicker and harder with each snap of his belt.

Give him what he wants. It’s the only way to make him stop.

She cried loudly and begged for mercy. He enjoyed hearing her beg. And finally, after whipping her buttocks a dozen times, leaving her flesh burning and probably bleeding, he stopped.

The worst was yet to come.

“Oh, sweetie, your poor little butt. It’s all red and swollen.” He ran his fingertips over the welts he’d made with his belt. “Just lie still, and I’ll make it all better.”

No, don’t. Please, please, don’t.

He ran a series of soft, light kisses over the welts on her buttocks; then his tongue glided over each.

The snap of his slacks and the zing of his zipper warned her to prepare for what always came next. First the brutal spanking whenever she displeased him, and then…

With her face buried in the bedspread, her sore buttocks exposed, he lifted her up and yanked her to the edge of the bed. And then he probed inside her with his fingers, raking his thumb over her clitoris until her body softened despite her hatred of him and what he was doing to her.

She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and tried not to think about what was happening as he thrust inside her, deep and hard.

Seth had nibbled at the eggs and bacon Cathy had prepared for him. He looked as haggard and weary as she felt. Neither of them was looking forward to the upcoming confrontation with J.B. and Mona. Since they had been expecting Seth to return to their house sometime shortly after the all-night youth rally ended at eight this morning, she had telephoned them at seven-thirty. Keeping the facts to a minimum, she’d told Mona, who had answered the phone, that Seth was at her house, that he and some other teens had gotten into a bit of trouble last night and they needed to discuss the problem.

“There they are.” Seth, who had been standing at the window waiting for his grandparents, turned to Cathy and grimaced. “Grandmother’s with them.”

Cathy groaned. She should have known that Mona would call Elaine and Seth’s three grandparents would show up together. She sensed that in this situation, it was Seth and her against the world.

When the doorbell rang, Seth looked at her. “Mom?”

“You stay here. I’ll let them in.” She paused, glanced back at her son and added, “It’s going to be all right. We’ll face them together. Just remember, they love you.”

When she opened the door, her mother entered first and gave her a condemning glare. She refused to react in a defensive manner. Her mother couldn’t intimidate her anymore. How often had she wondered if her father, who had died in an auto accident when she was twelve, had left them because he could no longer endure trying to live up to Elaine’s impossible standards? Her parents had been separated for more than two years when Whit Nelson had died. What she remembered most about her dad was his loud, robust laugh.

Mona came in next, a sad half-smile curving her lips and a sympathetic expression in her eyes. She reached over and gave Cathy a quick hug before walking into the living room. By the time J.B. entered the house, both grandmothers were flanking Seth, who looked like a condemned man on his way to the gallows.

“You’d better have a good reason for this,” J.B. said in a deep, gruff voice as he gave Cathy a stern, disapproving stare.

Ignoring J.B., Cathy turned to the others and said, “Why don’t we all sit down. This is going to take a while.”

Fifteen minutes later, after Seth had told them exactly what happened, without telling them that he had left the rally only to keep watch over Missy Hovater, the room fell into complete silence. All eyes turned to J.B., waiting for his judgment call.

God, how Cathy hated that her son had to endure having his grandfather act as his judge, jury and executioner. If only Mark were here to act as a buffer. Mark had respected J.B., but at the same time, he had, on occasion, stood up to him. He had certainly gone against J.B.’s wishes when he had married her.

“I’m very disappointed in you, Seth,” J.B. said, his voice deceptively calm.

“Yes, sir, I understand.”

“Do you, son?” J.B. focused directly on Seth. “There will be consequences. Except for church and your sports activities, you’re grounded for the rest of the summer.”

Seth stood straight as an arrow, his expression solemn as he nodded his head in agreement, taking his punishment like a man.

“And today, at church services, when Brother Hovater calls for sinners to repent, I expect you to go before the congregation and—”

“No,” Cathy said adamantly. “Seth didn’t commit a sin. It’s ridiculous for you to expect him to stand up in front of the entire church and confess to something he didn’t do.”

“He disobeyed the rules. He violated my trust.” J.B. glanced at Mona and Elaine. “Our trust. He shamed us and himself by his actions.”

“He made a mistake,” Cathy said. “He’s not perfect. You can’t expect him to never make a mistake.”

“I expect him to live up to the high moral standards I’ve set for him, the same standards Mark would have set for him.”

“If Mark were here, he would never ask Seth to—”

“How dare you presume to tell me what my son would and would not do,” J.B. said, anger in his voice.

“And how dare you presume to make yourself the sole decision maker when it comes to my son,” Cathy retaliated.

“Please, J.B.” Mona laid her hand on her husband’s arm. “Cathy, dear, this arguing isn’t good.”

J.B. jerked his arm away from his wife’s gentle grasp and aimed his hard gaze at Seth. “You’ll do as I say. Your mother has no authority over you whatsoever, legal or otherwise.” He turned to Cathy. “Seth is leaving with us now. And if you try to interfere, I’ll contact the police. Mona and I are Seth’s legal guardians, not you.”

Cathy had difficulty restraining herself from lunging at J.B., claws out and teeth bared in defense of her child. But there was a better way to deal with this issue.

“You’re right,” Cathy said. “But I intend to reclaim my son. I had hoped we could come to some sort of agreement, but I know that’s impossible. I’ve hired Elliott Floyd as my attorney, and I will take you to court if necessary. My days of rolling over and playing dead for you, J.B.”—she glanced at her mother—“or anyone else are over.” She looked back at her father-in-law. “Seth is my son. Today you may be able to force him to obey you, but that is going to change. And soon.”

Seth had remained completely quiet during the entire exchange between her and J.B. She looked at him and smiled. He didn’t return her smile, but she noted a hint of relief in his eyes.

“We’re leaving.” J.B. issued the decree and motioned to his wife.

Mona held her head down as she passed Cathy and followed J.B. to the front door. With her mouth puckered tightly, Elaine frowned and shook her head, her actions silently telling Cathy of her displeasure. Seth paused in front of Cathy, but didn’t say anything.

She caressed his cheek. “I’ll be at church today.”

He leaned over and whispered, “I’ll go talk to Mr. Floyd whenever you say.” Then he hurried out the front door and caught up with his grandparents on the porch.

Bruce Kelley helped his wife dress. She had chosen a blue linen suit. He watched her while she struggled to hook her bra and then finally offered to help.

“Silly me, I’m all thumbs this morning.” When she laughed, she sounded like herself, the Sandie he had known and loved most of his adult life.

If he could suffer this disease for her, he would; but then if it were he and not she that had been afflicted, she would be the one condemned to watch the person she loved die by slow, pathetic degrees. They were both victims.

In the past, he had never understood how someone could choose to end their spouse’s life when that lifelong partner was suffering unbearably. He’d been such a pompous fool. Arrogant. So smug in his safe, happy life. He had judged others so harshly, never once considering the love and sacrifice made by those poor spouses who could no longer bear to see their loved one suffer.

If not for his deep faith in God, in the Savior’s benevolence, in a great plan for all mankind, Bruce wasn’t sure he would have the strength to see this thing through to the end. Sandie still had good days, and even on the bad days she still had good hours. The worst was yet to come. But he was not in this hell on earth alone, as many were. He and Sandie had three fine children, all willing to do whatever was necessary to help him. But the last thing his sweet Sandie would ever want was to be a burden on anyone, least of all her children.

“I should wear my pearls with this outfit,” Sandie said as she looked at herself in the vanity mirror. “But I can’t seem to remember where my pearls are. Don’t I have a jewelry chest?”

Bruce came up behind her and placed his hands lovingly on her shoulders. She glanced up at him from where she sat on the vanity stool and smiled at him.

Dear Lord, how he loved her smile.

There would come a day in the near future when she would no longer smile when she saw him, a time when she would not know who he was. Would he be able to bear it?

“Your jewelry box is in the closet,” he reminded her. “You stay put, and I’ll get your pearls.”

“Thank you, darling.”

Just as he walked away and headed toward the walk-in closet, she called to him, “Bruce, are the children ready for church? I can’t remember if I packed everything in the diaper bag that little Kevin will need. He was so fretful last night. I’m afraid he’s cutting a new tooth.”

Bruce stopped dead still. His heartbeat accelerated. He closed his eyes and prayed for strength and courage. And the ability to see Sandie through to the end, no matter how long and difficult the path might be. She had no idea that her mind had wandered back more than thirty years to when their now-adult son had been an infant. This was not the first time it had happened, and heaven help them both, it would not be the last.

Faye Long stared at her reflection in the cheval mirror. She looked like an old woman, far older than her fifty-eight years. Guilt and regret weighed heavily on her shoulders. And fear.

Thirty-nine years ago, when she had married Charles Long, she had been a beautiful, desirable young woman. She could have had her pick from dozens of men, but she had chosen the man she believed worshipped the ground she walked on, the man who would be a good husband and father to their future children. Charles had been a handsome, dashing, charismatic young minister, and she had fallen under his hypnotic spell, never questioning what lay beneath the alluring façade he presented to the world.

She had made a horrible mistake by marrying him, and she had paid dearly for her stupidity. And she was still paying, as was her daughter and her granddaughters.

If only she could go back and redo her life, go back to the first time she met her future husband. She would run as far and as fast from Charles Long as she possibly could.

When Ruth Ann and John Earl had returned home a little after six o’clock this morning, with both Charity and Felicity in tow, she had known something was wrong. When she had gone to the kitchen earlier this morning at five-thirty, she had found Ruth Ann’s note.

Ruthie. Her only child.

The spawn of the devil.

God, how she hated to think of her daughter in such a way. Ruth Ann could no more help who her father was than she could help the horrible things he had done to her. The things he had done to both of them.

She often wondered what would have happened to the two of them that night after fire had consumed their home and killed her husband if it had not been for John Earl. At the time, he and Ruth Ann had been dating for nearly a year, and she’d known how much he loved her daughter. He was such a good man, and she thanked the Lord every day that both of her granddaughters were growing up in a home filled with love and goodness.

But a shadow of evil hovered over all of them. Charles Long’s evil. Even now, after all these years, Ruth Ann still had nightmares. And the emotional scars left by her father’s cruelty had created an emptiness inside Ruth Ann that affected her relationship with both of her daughters.

No doubt Felicity and Charity’s unfortunate escapade would be the talk of the town by the time church services began today. Poor John Earl. What an embarrassment for him.

But they would all hold their heads high this morning when they arrived at church. Let the busybodies talk. No one except she, Ruth Ann and John Earl knew that her granddaughters were predisposed to wickedness, that they had inherited a weakness for evil from Charles Long.

As soon as her mother and in-laws took Seth away, Cathy knew what she had to do today. She could waste her time crying and bemoaning the fact that J.B. and Mona had custody of her son. Or she could get ready, go to church and be there for the most humiliating moment of Seth’s young life.

She showered, washed and dried her hair, chose one of two new outfits she had recently purchased on a shopping trip with Lorie and unpacked her makeup case. Only moments after she added the last touches—blush to her cheeks and a peach gloss to her lips—the doorbell rang.

Maybe it was Lorie, but she doubted it. She had phoned her best friend and filled her in on what had happened, everything she knew about Seth’s misadventures and her confrontation with J.B. Lorie had offered to go to church with her this morning, but she’d assured her that it wasn’t necessary.

“I know how much you’d hate it,” Cathy had said. “You haven’t been inside a church for worship services since you moved back to Dunmore.”

“I’d do it for you.”

“I’ll be okay, and so will Seth, so don’t worry too much. I have a feeling that God’s on my side.”

When she reached the front door, Cathy peeked through the viewfinder and gasped when she saw Jackson Perdue standing on her porch.

She opened the door. “Well, hello. What are you doing here?” She surveyed him from his neatly combed hair to his polished dress shoes. He wore khaki slacks, a white shirt without a tie and a blue blazer.

“I thought I’d go to church with you today,” he said.

“Lorie called you, didn’t she?”

“Yeah. She…uh…she thought you might need a little backup this morning.”

“You don’t have to do this, you know. I mean, it’s not as if you and I…That is, this is my problem. Not yours. You—”

He gently shoved her backward into the house. With the front door still partially open, he cupped her face in his hands. Startled by his actions, she hushed immediately and stared up into his blue, blue eyes.

“Let’s not analyze our relationship,” he said. “There’s been a lot of muddy water under the bridge. So, how about this—I’m here as a substitute for Lorie. She thinks you need a friend at your side this morning, and I agree.”

“She thinks I need a keeper, doesn’t she? She’s concerned about what I might say or do without someone there to rein me in.”

“Look, I wasn’t around when you unraveled at the seams last year, so I don’t actually know how bad it was for you. But having been there myself, I can imagine. Don’t blame Lorie if she’s worried about you.”

“I don’t blame her. I don’t blame anyone for waiting to see if or when the crazy lady will go bonkers again. But that’s not going to happen. I won’t let it.”