The Singing River (15 page)

Chapter 22

River

Marissa was coming down the stairs into the foyer when we walked through the door. She paused, her hand on the banister, her eyes wide, and her face pale. Last year’s murder had made her skittish.

Holding up my hands, I called, “Sorry, I forgot to ring the bell.”

Marissa exhaled. “Good Lord!” She wore a pair of blue jeans, her feet bare, and no makeup. It wasn’t often Marissa let herself be seen so underdressed, and she scowled. “Y’all are back early. Rain run you out?”

Roman pushed past me, shaking the water out of his shaggy, brown hair. “I need to run to town.”

His announcement was abrupt and insistent. A cell phone glowed in his hand. I hadn’t even thought to check my own phone while we were gone, my thoughts having been preoccupied.

Marissa and I exchanged a look.

Marley snuck by, moving quietly down the hall to the downstairs bedroom he always slept in when he was visiting. I envied his escape.

“You can’t go anywhere,” Marissa told Roman quietly.

Roman froze. “What?”

Pocketing the keys to Uncle Marley’s truck, I moved to the bottom of the stairs, my eyes on Roman’s wan face.

“I had your car picked up from school Friday after the incident at the dairy bar. It’s being held by George Holland at his shop.”

It took a moment for my words to sink in, but when they did, Roman’s face went livid, his swollen, purplish nose wrinkling.

“What the hell? You can’t do that!”

Marissa took another step down. “Actually, Roman, he can.”

The sudden knowledge in my brother’s eyes was startling.

“You’re not twenty-one yet,” Roman whispered.

I looked away.

Marissa’s hand fell on my shoulder. “Marley didn’t have any interest in your father’s business ventures, so two months ago, the courts allowed River to take over your father’s books. His name is now on all legal property entailed to the estate, including your car.”

Roman’s eyes found mine. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

I took a step toward him, but he backed away.

“I was going to, but you haven’t been in much condition to listen,” I said.

He stared, his hands fisted at his sides. “I need my car.”

I shook my head.

His face went red, his eyes narrowing. “My car, River!”

“Technically,” I muttered, “it’s mine.”

Roman exploded, propelling himself toward me. I was ready, braced for his impact, one arm gripping the staircase behind me as his fists pummeled me in the chest and arms. I took it because he was avoiding my face, which meant he didn’t hate
me
, he hated what I was keeping him from.

“My car,” he begged.

The punches were less forceful now. His strength or his resolve was failing.

“You don’t need it, Roman.”

I wasn’t talking about the car, and he knew it.

“Damn you,” he muttered. “Damn you!”

My jaw tensed, my arms opening to hold my brother. He tried pulling away, but I didn’t let him. Somewhere behind me, I heard Marissa inhale sharply, and I knew if I looked at her I’d see tears on her cheeks.

“I can’t,” he begged. “I can’t …”

He slumped against me, his shoulders shaking. I knew what he was doing, and it broke my heart.

“They brutalized him, River. His face …”

The shaking got harder. Images of our father flew through my head. Images of long gashes across his cheeks and neck, his arms peppered in slashes where he’d tried to protect his head. There had been hatred in those wounds, a lot of hatred.

“I know,” I whispered, “but you’re only killing yourself with the drugs.”

Roman grew rigid. “I’m not looking for drugs,” he shot back.

I held him away from me, my eyes narrowed on his face, on his swollen nose and empty eyes.

“Then what?” I asked.

 
“Vengeance,” Roman’s voice was even when he said it, frosty and unfeeling.

Something heavy and cold settled in the pit of my stomach.

I shook my brother. “What are you doing?”

“Finding dad’s killer,” Roman replied. “I’m going to do what the police
still
haven’t managed to do.”

Marissa’s gasp was as loud as the sudden roaring in my head.

“The case may still be open—” Marissa began.

I shook my brother again. “What have you found out?”

Marissa approached us. “No, both of you—”

Roman stared at me, his face calm. “My car.”

Dropping my hands, I shook my head. “I won’t bend on that, Roman. Whatever your intentions, you’ll still find a way to get the drugs, too.”

Roman stomped. “Damn you!” His gaze moved to Marissa. “Did you know golden boy here fucked a waitress while at the river?”

The silence that followed was deafening.

It was Marissa who broke it. “River—”

“This isn’t about me,” I interrupted.

Roman laughed. “No, of course not. Because when River does something wrong, it’s still okay. Because when River does something wrong, there must be a good reason behind it. Tell me, brother, what was the point of sex with Haven other than climax?”

“Oh, my God!” Marissa groaned, her hands going to her forehead, her fingers massaging her temple.

I lifted my fist, my eyes narrowed. “I’m not the one doing drugs and looking for a killer.”

“No,” Roman agreed. “You’re too busy hiding and fucking waitresses.”

Something ceramic slammed against the wall opposite the stairs, landing in shattered fragments at our feet. The jagged glass eyes of a penguin stared up at me.

“That’s enough!” Marissa shouted. “You two need help! I just don’t know what to do anymore. I saw him, too, you know? I loved him, too …” Her voice broke. “He was too strong in life to look like that in death.”

She stepped between us, one hand going to each of our chests, her eyes meeting mine. “What were you thinking, River? Did you use anything?” I didn’t answer, and she shook her head. “You know better. You at least know to use protection.”

When I still didn’t say anything, her gaze moved to Roman. “And you,” she pressed her palm more firmly into his chest, “you need to let it go. It’s killing you. It’s killing
us
. It’s not our job to exact justice.”

Her hands fell, her red-rimmed eyes moving between us. “Now, you two start being Braydens. Brayden’s don’t fall apart …”

“We stand strong,” Roman finished with a growl.

My eyes met my brother’s, and together we said, “Bullshit!”

It was enough to make Marissa crack a smile.

“You two are rock-headed and obstinate, you know that?” she asked

I smiled, although my heart wasn’t fully in it. “Better obstinate than compliant.”

Marissa moved toward a hutch on the side of the room, her fingers disappearing into a drawer before coming away with something small clutched in her fist.

“And you,” she said, moving toward me, her eyes full of mirth and determination, “try this.” Pulling my hand in front of me, she placed her palm against mine, and I knew without looking down what she’d placed there.

I groaned as she said, “Super Glue and condoms.”

The word I uttered next belonged more to Roman than it did to me.

“Bullshit.”

Chapter 23

Haven

The trailer was dark when I entered it, the air stale.

“AC out again?” I called.

No answer.

Dropping the Walmart bag on the floor, I scanned the living room.

“Mom!”

Still no answer.

My stomach turned over, panic creeping through my chest.

“Mom!” I shouted.

A groan was the only response I got, but I followed the sound into the kitchen, my heart racing.

“Mom?”

The groan again. “Haven?”

My mother sat on the floor against the bar, her knees pulled up, her head in her hands.

I dropped next to her. “Mom, you okay?”

A pack of cigarettes and a lighter lay near her hand, one butt pushed forward as if she’d been trying to light it. Her hands shook.

“Mom?”

Her head lifted. “Just got a little dizzy,” she mumbled.

I touched her shoulder, my fingers digging into her shirt. “Mom, do I need to call someone?”

Mom shook her head. “No, really. Just dizzy. It’s the heat. That’s all.”

“Mom—”

“You’re back early,” Mom interrupted.

I sat next to her, my shoulder against hers, my eyes on the rusty gas stove across from us. The sound of rain on the tin roof was loud.

“The weather,” I explained. “Are you sure you’re okay.”

Mom nodded, her hand finding mine on the floor. Our fingers tangled. “Just got too hot, I promise. It’s already passing.” Her gaze met mine, her brow moist with perspiration. “Did you have fun?” she asked.

I nodded, my gaze searching her face. “Mom—”

Her fingers tightened around mine. “Really, Haven.”

“Was it work?” I asked.

Mom leaned her head back against the bar. “No, the job is great, and I’m catching on quickly. I’m just getting old. Heat’s too much. Makes my legs hurt.”

I pulled my hand away and flicked her pack of cigarettes. “These don’t help.”

Mom laughed. “No, they don’t,” she tugged on my arm, “but I’m fine. I want to hear all about the trip.”

She stood, and I helped her, watching the way she hissed when she put pressure on her foot.

“Maybe you should have that looked at, Mom. They won’t need insurance if we go to the emergency room.”

Mom threw me a look. “I just pulled something. Nothing a little Tylenol won’t knock out. Now, the trip.”

She clung to me as she limped to the recliner in the living room, and it took everything I had to bite back my concern.

“It went well. Not quite what I was expecting. There wasn’t a lot of research into the legend other than Mr. Brayden attempting to capture the chant on recording. He seemed pretty obsessed with it even though anyone who’s ever heard the legend knows it can’t be heard until late in the summer.”

Mom sat, her gaze moving up to my face.

“Something happened there,” she said.

I laughed. “And how do you know that?”

She grinned. “Your eyes. I gave birth to you, kiddo. Trust me, I know.”

Crawling next to her, I pulled one of my knees up to my chest, my other leg pressing into her side.

Mom grunted. “We’ve outgrown this chair, you know.”

Chuckling, I muttered, “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

Mom pinched me. “Cheeky thing. So, what happened at the river? Which one of the boys was it?”

Startled, my gaze flew to her face. “Mom!”

She rubbed her hands together. “I’ve been hiding my crystal ball from you. It sees everything.”

I blushed. “It was nothing. Stupid actually.”

Mom stared at me, her gaze moving over my face before her hand came up, her fingers brushing a few strands of hair away from my eyes.

“It’s never nothing with you, Haven.

My gaze flew to the window above the couch, to the trees in the woods beyond. Mangy Beast barked at a car as it drove past on the road, but otherwise it was too quiet without the air conditioner on.

“AC froze up again?”

Mom pinched me once more. “Avoiding the topic won’t make it go away. I meant it. It’s never nothing with you. It’s one of the things I love most about you. You find connections with people where others miss them.”

Sweat pooled along my forehead, and I pulled my long hair to the side, letting it hang over one shoulder.

“That family has a lot of problems,” I said finally.

Mom patted my leg. “You can’t fix everyone.”

My gaze met hers. “I can try.”

“At the risk of losing yourself in the process?” she asked.

I curled up, making myself as small as possible so that I was leaning against her side. “You really believe that? What is it you’ve always taught me? That sometimes it takes losing ourselves while helping others to discover who we really are, to find out what we’re really made of.”

Mom chuckled. “Now, why can’t you be one of those kids that never listens to their parents?”

The grin I gave her was wide and full of love. “Because I have one of the smartest moms in the world. It’d be remiss of me not to soak up such awesome, wise teachings.”

Mom snorted. “Now you’re just being a smart ass.”

She lifted the lever on the side of the chair, inhaling as her legs were lifted. Her eyes closed, and I ran a hand over her moist forehead.

“You sure you’re okay, Mom?”

She smiled. “I’m okay. I’m glad you’re home.”

Her breathing grew even, sweat beading up along her face. I watched her as she slept, my fingers massaging her forehead.

“Stubborn woman,” I murmured.

Climbing gently out of the chair, I snuck out of the trailer. A lot needed to be done before I had to go back to work. The air conditioner was my first priority, and then Mr. Nelson. Mangy Beast joined me in the rain as I walked into the road, my eyes going back to the trailer where my mother slept.