You Believers (32 page)

Livy sat, looked across the room to the waitress watching her. The cook came from out back and gave a nod. Roy went to the counter for his coffee cup. “This is Sam and Maura. They put up with me. I don’t know why. Must be my good looks and irresistible wit.”

Maura smiled and threw a dishtowel at him. “He’s just a big old flirt.”

He picked up the towel from the floor, threw it back at her. “And you love it.”

“Yes, she does,” Sam said, walking toward them. He hugged Shelby, smiled, and reached to shake Livy’s hand. “You’ve got a good team. They found my daughter, Roy and Shelby; they found my girl in Myrtle Beach. She’s doing just fine.”

Livy nodded. “Shelby told me. You are a lucky man.”

“Yes, I am.” He stood over them, kissed the top of Shelby’s head, slapped Roy on the shoulder, then gave the lightest pat to Livy’s arm as if to say they were all connected now. “You’re in good hands.” He touched the menu. “Anything you want. It’s on me.”

Maura said, “I’ll be right with you,” and went back to changing filters in the coffee machine.

Roy leaned toward Livy. “You mind if I smoke?”

“It’s fine,” she said. She watched him light up, liked the smell of the match, the little flare of tobacco and paper and the smoke unfurling.

Maura called over, “And don’t forget, Roy. You aren’t leaving until you buy raffle tickets from me.”

He grinned. “Now, why would I want to spend my good money on your raffle?”

“You always spend money on my raffle. Not even a smart-ass like you can resist helping those kids.”

Roy nodded, smiled at Livy. “They raise money for the high school girls’ softball team. Kids playing ball to stay out of trouble. They’re too worn out from running around in the heat.” He took a hit off his cigarette and squinted at the menu, but Livy could see something else on his mind. No one had mentioned Katy. Livy looked at the menu but couldn’t really take in the words. It seemed so strange to do these normal things. Shelby was studying the menu as if she’d never seen it before. Something was up. Livy looked out the window to the blue lake stretching out. The world went on. Fish were drifting in the lake, birds flying above, and that little family on the shore were getting ready for a picnic and a swim, and no doubt across the water some father and son were out there casting their lines.

“My Katy played softball,” Livy said.

Maura came over, touched Livy’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry she’s missing. She’s in our prayers at church.”

“Thank you,” Livy said, just wanting to push back from the table and leave. She had a sick feeling stirring up. There was no running from the fact the Katy was gone, and as long as Katy was gone, Livy would find herself moving from stranger to stranger, both wanting and hating their help. She smelled Roy’s cigarette, the soothing yet sharp odor. She remembered Katy saying how sometimes when she felt the urge to cry, she could light up and it would stop the tears from coming. Livy leaned across the table. “You mind if I have one of your cigarettes?”

“Of course,” Roy said, offering her a cigarette from his pack.

“I didn’t know you smoked,” Shelby said.

“I don’t,” she said. “I tried them in college. It’s nice sometimes, gives you something to do when you’re nervous.” She let Roy light her cigarette. She straightened up, inhaled, barely, then looked at the cigarette. “My husband would have a fit.”

Shelby smiled. “He won’t hear of it from me.”

Livy tried another inhalation, a little deeper this time. It burned, and she coughed, her eyes tearing up as she watched Maura place tall glasses of sweet tea on the table. She put the cigarette out, managed to say, “Well, that was stupid.” The coughing kept coming, deepened to a gagging sound. She felt the nausea roll up, and she rushed to the door to get outside. Just making it to the porch, she leaned over the railing and heaved nothing but water and bile into the bushes beneath.

Finally she straightened, looked out at the lake. Her head hummed, but she felt better, as if she’d gotten some kind of poison out. She stood, feeling her breath go steady.

She looked out at the lake shimmering like a blue mirror, clouds on the water reflecting clouds in the sky. She wasn’t ready for the conversation that was waiting inside the restaurant. She walked toward the lake, feeling the coolness of a breeze in the air.

She heard the sound of a child’s laughter, looked over to the beach, and saw a little girl in a pink one-piece backing into the water, calling, “Watch me, Mommy, watch me.” The mom stood on the shore, arms crossed, and watched. A man was taking picnic things from the Jeep. The little girl crouched in the water, smacked it with her hands to make it splash. “Careful,” her mom called. The girl straightened, turned, walked farther out into the water, looking back again and again to make sure the mother was watching. She looked about six. Katy had already been swimming at that age. Katy liked to pretend she was a mermaid, diving under the water, holding her
breath so long Livy would always be moving toward her by the time she surfaced. The farther out the girl went, the more she looked back, making sure the mother was there. The mother slipped her sandals off and waded into the water. The dad had stopped unloading things to watch. It was a shallow lake. Almost flat, it seemed. The girl walked and walked, the water staying around her waistline. Shelby had said it was shallow, and the lake seemed to have almost no incline. It was like a giant wading pool there at the beach, but out past the buoys, it dropped deep. Livy remembered how Shelby had said the water could suddenly turn. “Look how far out I am, Mommy,” the girl called. The mom was knee-deep in the water now, smiling, nodding. “You’re very, very far.” The girl took more steps, turned. “Look how far I am now.” “Come on back in,” the mother called, moving closer to her daughter. A few more steps and her shorts would get wet, but she wasn’t thinking about her shorts. Her eyes and mind were all on getting closer to her girl.

“Mrs. Baines, you all right?”

She turned at Roy’s voice, saw Shelby and Roy coming toward her. Roy’s face was set the way her doctor’s face had been when he’d told her she had precancerous cells. But they had fixed all that.

“Just tell me the news,” she said. But she couldn’t look at him. She turned back toward the little girl.

“We have a lead,” he said.

She looked at him. “I knew that. What kind of lead?”

His face went blank, but there was a pinch to his eyes. She knew he was going to say,
I’m sorry
. She turned to watch the girl out there, splashing her mom and laughing. Livy felt dizzy. She rocked a bit, reached to grip his arm, and he let her. Shelby was ready to catch her if she fell. She turned back to Roy, felt her nails squeezing into his arm. She relaxed her grip. “You can tell me,” she said.

He glanced at her, caught her eyes, then winced, looked back toward the little girl in the lake. “There was a girl in Land Fall.”

She looked to Shelby. “And she has something to do with my Katy?”

“Yes,” Roy said. “There was a girl in Land Fall who was attacked. In her home.”

“What do you mean ‘attacked’?”

Roy looked away as if he needed to see something out there in the lake. “Raped,” he said. “Beaten. Bad.” He shook his head.

The little girl squealed and was running farther out into the water. “Stop right there,” her mother yelled. The girl stopped, turned, her head lowered, looked up at her mom.

Livy took a breath. “And did this girl live?”

“Yes,” Roy said. She saw him start to say something, take it back. She let go of his arm, held herself, arms wrapped tightly. “And what does she have to do with my Katy?”

He sighed, put his hands in his pockets, looked back out at the lake. “The man who attacked her said something about a woman in a blue truck with Tennessee plates. He carjacked her.”

“Katy.” She wiped away the wetness on her face. Out there in the lake, the mother held out her hand and didn’t have to say a word to make the little girl come to her. “What did this man do to Katy?”

Roy sighed and looked down. “We don’t have proof it was Katy.”

“
Was
Katy?” Livy said. She looked back toward the inn. The building, the land, all seemed to be receding as if some current in the lake were reaching up and pulling her away from the world of solid things. She felt herself sinking to the ground. She squeezed her arms tighter, held on.

“We don’t have proof, but it sounds like your daughter. The man mentioned the
POSITIV
license plates.”

“What did he do to her?’ She heard the pleading in her voice. She grabbed his arm again. “You said the girl lived. What did he do to my Katy?”

He shook his head, looked her straight in the face, said it. “He said he killed her.” He looked to the ground. “I’m sorry. It’s what he said. But sometimes guys like to say a lot of things they didn’t do.”

“Killed her?” Livy whispered, but it wasn’t a question. Even though it sounded like a question, it was a fact. She was on the ground now, her fingers clenching the grass, nails digging in the dirt. She looked at Roy’s shoes, shiny black leather. She felt Shelby on the ground beside her. She asked, “Did he say how?” The land was spinning. She dug into the dirt to hang on.

He crouched beside her, leaned close. “We don’t know for certain it was Katy.”

“Yes, you do.” There was a wailing sound from somewhere. She looked toward the little girl, who was jumping up and down, holding her mother’s hand. Was she laughing or screaming? Livy felt the wailing sound squeezing up from her chest. There was a hand on her back. It was Shelby. She looked at Shelby, saw such a sadness there. “What did he do to the woman in a blue truck? With Tennessee plates. The woman who had the word
POSITIV
on her Tennessee license plates. This woman. My daughter. What did he do to my girl?”

Shelby looked to Roy, gave a nod.

“The man said the woman, the woman he killed, didn’t see it coming.” His eyes were on Shelby now. He was scared.

Livy watched the little girl wading back to shore, now holding her mother’s hand. “I don’t believe this. That girl who was attacked, maybe she imagined these things. She must have been delirious, getting raped like that. Sometimes when you’re upset, you imagine the worst kinds of things.” She looked at Roy, then to Shelby. They both
seemed to be drifting away, but they were holding her, they were touching her. But it all seemed to be flying. “I don’t believe this, but I know what you’re saying is true.” She pulled her knees up to her chest and rocked. All she could hear was breathing. She looked out at the lake, her vision so blurred she couldn’t see the line between water, land, and sky. Roy was saying something, but she couldn’t hear it over the pounding in her ears. She sat still, felt the pressure of Shelby’s arms wrapped around her. She was such a little woman, but her arms were powerful, as if she had been trained in holding the world together in those thin, strong arms. “You can let me go now,” Livy said. “I’m not going to go crazy.”

Shelby released her, then sat beside her, held her hand. Roy was walking away, answering his phone. Livy felt nausea rising again at the back of her throat, swallowed it down. There was nothing left to get out. She took in a slow breath, exhaled. “Why would he hurt Katy?”

Shelby squeezed Livy’s hand, shook her head. “There is no reason.”

Livy looked over at the little family. Now the girl was sitting at the picnic table, eating something. “Katy’s daddy didn’t like picnics. He said he didn’t see the point.” She cried now, hugged her knees hard to her chest and cried. She cried and cried until it was all out. She rolled over in the grass, smelled the dirt and the green. Katy had said that when she gardened, she loved the smell of dirt and green. And Livy had laughed and asked, “How can you smell green?” But Katy was right—green did have a smell. It smelled . . . green. Livy closed her eyes. “I just want to sleep a little, just a minute, just a little, please.” She remembered Lawrence. Her eyes blinked wide open, seeing nothing but grass and sky. She thought,
This is how the dead see
. She jerked up to sit. Shelby watched her, waited. “I like the way you wait. You never push.”

Shelby nodded. “Oh, I push. I’ve spent years practicing on knowing when to wait, when to push.” She looked out at the water, sat there as if she had nothing better to do than watch the sun move across the sky.

“I have to call Lawrence,” Livy said. “But I can’t. I don’t want to say the words. And we don’t know for certain it was Katy. There’s lots of blue trucks.”

“I’ll call him for you,” Shelby said. She waited a minute, watched Livy. “You want me to call him now?”

“No.” Livy combed her fingers through her hair, saw dirt on the knees of her pants. She looked out at the family packing up. The little girl kept looking her way. The mother kept turning her around, busying her with something. Livy nodded toward the family. “They probably think I’m crazy.”

“No,” Shelby said. “They probably sense something happened here, something bad. But not crazy.”

“They’re trying to protect their daughter,” Livy said. “And she’s curious because she’s never seen a grown woman roll around in the grass.” She sighed, her throat tightening with tears. “But you can’t protect them. Not always. Katy believes in guardian angels in this world. What about the angels?”

“They’re here,” Shelby said.

“I thought you didn’t believe in things.”

“I told you, I believe in this world. Flesh-and-blood guardian angels. Like Roy, like the people who volunteer for me.”

Livy watched the little family load up the car and drive away. “The day is over,” she said. “Gone, gone, gone.” She looked back toward the lodge. “I left my purse in there. And Katy’s scrapbook.”

“I locked it all in the truck. We can just sit here.”

“Katy would like that.” She wanted to sit there all night. She wanted to watch the sun set, the moon rise, just sleep in the grass
and wake with the sun on her face. That was all she could stand. “I can’t go back to that house.”

“Okay,” Shelby said.

“Call that man Pete about the condo.” She looked at Shelby. “I’m sorry. Would you please call Pete about the condo? And Billy? Could you call Billy, please?”