You Can Run... (21 page)

“Have the squirrels that live in the tree started smokin’?” Willow asked.

“I certainly hope not. Cigarettes could give them lung cancer.”

“But if they did start smokin’, where would they buy their cigarettes?”

“Shop-a-Minute,” Diana returned straight-faced.

Willow laughed. “No, they wouldn’t! Shop-a-Minute wouldn’t sell cigarettes to squirrels!”

“You never know,” Diana said seriously. “They’ll do anything to make a dollar.”

“Is that how much a pack of cigarettes costs?”

“More. Or three acorns, unless the price has gone up recently to four acorns.”

Willow, still in stitches at their silliness as they entered the house, soon settled down to tell the cats a story, while Diana went into another room and found the telephone directory. She looked up the number for Al Meeks, found only one listing for Al’s Best Barbecue and another for Albert Meeks. She hesitated about calling now—maybe this afternoon would be better—but her fingers pushed numbers almost without her realizing it. A moment later, a man’s deep, scratchy voice said, “Hello there! What can I do for you?”

“Mr. Meeks?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“May I speak with Tyler, please? Tyler Raines?”

After a moment, Al Meeks said hesitantly, “Well, he’s not here right now.”

So surprised by his not asking who Tyler Raines was, Diana felt temporarily thrown. After a beat, she asked, “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“No.”

Too quick, too definite,
Diana thought. Now Al was lying.

“I see. Mr. Meeks, I’m Diana Sheridan. I ate in your restaurant four or five times with Penny and Willow Conley.”

“Oh! Diana Sheridan! Sure, I remember you.” Immediately the enthusiasm left his voice. “My God, I’m sick about what happened to poor Penny. I just loved that girl. Thank the lord little Willow was spared.” He paused. “And
you
! Tyler told me how you missed bein’ in that house by less than five minutes.”

So Tyler Raines did know Al Meeks. Tyler had even told Al the details of the night of the explosion. She’d been sure, so sure, that Tyler was lying about knowing Al. She could feel the man on the other end of the connection waiting for her to say something. “I was supposed to be at Penny’s house over an hour earlier, but I was late. If I hadn’t been and Willow hadn’t crawled out a window to
get lightning bugs for her mother, there would have been two more casualties that night. Not that Penny is dead, but . . .”

Annoyed, Diana felt tears ready to flow again. She would
not
burst into sobs on the phone with a man she barely knew. She swallowed hard and said, “The doctors say there’s no change in Penny. She’s still unconscious. Of course, no one can see her or even get direct information about her except family members.”

“What a shame,” Al said mournfully. “I’ll be prayin’ for Penny.”

“I’m sure she’d appreciate that. And it’s really why I called. Not about praying, but to express my appreciation and Clarice Hanson’s, and what I know would be Penny’s, for all the help Tyler was that night. He pulled my car away from the fire, he went into Clarice’s house, which was burning, and carried her out—”

“He did
what
?” Al nearly shouted.

“He carried Clarice Hanson out of her burning house.”

“That boy! He didn’t say a word about doin’ a thing like that. Well, I’ll be! Just like his grandpa. We were great friends. Guess it’s better he died quite a few years ago. It would’ve broken his heart if he’d known what Tyler went through when he was younger.”

“What Tyler went through?”

She could almost see Al Meeks’s expression growing wary. “Oh, never mind me. I’m just an old man who talks too much. Well listen, Miss Sheridan, I’ll tell Tyler you called and thanked him for his help. He’ll like that.” He paused. “He’s a good boy, Miss Sheridan. I’d be proud to call him my own grandson.”

“Could I ask one more question, Mr. Meeks?”

“Sorry, the Missus here is nearly pullin’ me out the door. Time for church. Thanks for callin’ Miss Sheridan. You take care now. Good-bye to you.”

“And good-bye to you,” Diana said softly as she hung up the phone, Al’s words echoing in her mind:
He’s a good boy . . . I’d be proud to call him my own grandson.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” she muttered, shaking her head and smiling.

“Can we go visit Mommy today?”

Diana looked at Willow, turned out in navy blue shorts, a blue-and-pink blouse with flutter sleeves, and her rhinestone crown. “I don’t think they’re letting your mother have visitors yet,” Diana said as she held the Sunday morning newspaper. The front page bore a banner headline about a bomb causing the explosion of a house in the Rosewood neighborhood. She no longer had to keep the secret.

“But I wanna see Mommy.”

“I know, sweetheart, but we don’t always get what we want.”

Willow’s mouth trembled slightly. “Can’t Mommy have visits because she’s not getting’ well? Is that what it means?”

“It means the doctors want her to use all her strength to get well and not use it visiting with people. She’s still weak.”

“But getting well.” It wasn’t a question. Willow seemed almost defiantly pronouncing that Penny would recover. Then she wavered. “Mommy
is
getting better, isn’t she? You wouldn’t tell me a fib, would you?”

Being completely truthful versus making a little girl feel better fought a flashing battle in Diana’s mind. Then she looked at Willow’s questioning eyes in her sad, innocent face and knew she couldn’t dash the child’s hope.

“The doctors and the nurses are putting all their efforts into getting your mother well. You know she wants desperately to come home to her little girl that she loves more than she loves anyone else, and she’s a strong lady, Willow.
Very
strong.”

“I wish I could see her for just a minute,” Willow said droopingly. “If I told her I love her it might help.”

“She knows you love her, Willow. Believe me—she knows.” Diana smiled and put the newspaper aside. “Are you ready to go for a walk and take pictures with me? Uncle Simon and Clarice won’t be home from church and lunch for at least a couple of hours.”

“Yeah, I guess. Can the cats come?”

“Well, cats don’t usually take walks with people like dogs do. Besides, long walks are too hard for Romeo.”

“You could buy a wagon and pull him,” Willow suggested.

“That’s a very smart idea, but we have Christabel to consider. She’d run off. She’d hide in the woods and we’d never find her.”

“I hid in the woods and I got found.”

Diana’s senses sharpened but she tried to sound casual. “Yes, you did. A man found you. How was he able to find you when no one else could?”

“ ’Cause I hid from everyone else.”

“But you didn’t hide from him. Why?”

Willow’s gaze drifted around the room for a few seconds. “I was tired of hidin’ and I was scared of snakes.”

“I see. Did you know the man who found you?”

“Well . . . no.”

“That didn’t sound like the exact truth.”

Willow looked at her, and Diana saw a quick flash of apprehension in her eyes. She faltered then said, “At first I thought I knew him but I didn’t. I got mixed up.”

“Who did you think he was at first?”

“Well . . . I thought . . .” Willow took off her crown and began inspecting the rhinestones sparkling in the sunlight. Not looking up, she said, “I thought he was a friend of Mommy’s but he wasn’t.”

Diana knew the child was telling either a half-truth or a complete lie. But Willow was not a child who lied even when she’d done something wrong and wanted to escape punishment. Diana knew if Willow was lying now, she was
following Penny’s orders. But why would Penny want to deny knowing Tyler Raines? And why did he want to deny knowing Penny?

Willow slowly edged away from Diana, growing more absorbed in watching her crown sparkle, when the phone rang.
Just as well,
Diana thought. Obviously she’d pushed Willow enough on the subject of Tyler Raines.

Diana answered the phone to hear a woman with a bubbly voice ask, “Is this Diana?”

“Yes. Mrs. . . . Wentworth?”

“Lenore, please. I hope I’m not calling too early.”

Diana glanced at her watch. “It’s eleven-ten. Hardly too early.”

“Some people I know sleep until noon on Sundays. Others—a very few—go to church.”

“Today I’m doing neither.”

“Then I’m so glad I was able to reach you!” Lenore paused and her voice grew more serious. “Diana, I always loved my niece dearly. I was so looking forward to being with her last night but things didn’t work out, to say the least. Jeff is going to the hospital to see Penny, and Blake is going with him. I know I should go, but frankly, I just can’t bring myself to see Penny in her condition.”

Conscious of Willow’s closeness, Diana merely asked, “Any word on her condition?”

“Jeff called the hospital but he’s in a ‘yes’ and ‘no’ mood this morning. He said they told him there’s no change in Penny. I got no other details. Maybe he didn’t either. I wish he wouldn’t try to see her, but when he makes up his mind, there’s no changing it. Anyway, I wonder if it’d be okay if I—just me—come by and see Cornelia.”

Dread washed through Diana. She didn’t want to cause more trouble by refusing, but she would not have Willow upset again. “Could you wait just a minute until I ask Willow?” she asked pleasantly.

“Oh! Well, I guess not.” Lenore must have known her voice betrayed a trace of irritation. “I mean, of course you should ask her!”

Diana put her hand over the receiver. “Willow, your Aunt Lenore is on the phone. She was here last night but I don’t think you even saw her.” Willow’s gaze grew wary. “She seemed nice and she says she always loved you and she’d like to see you.” Willow frowned. “She made a point of saying she’d come by herself.”

“No Bad Man?” Willow asked fearfully.

“Absolutely not.”

Willow appeared to think for a moment. “Only if she
promises
it’s just her.”

“Lenore, Willow says it’s all right with her if you
promise
you’ll come alone.”

“Oh, dear, it’s as bad as all that? Well, we can’t do anything about it now. I promise to come alone. Cross my heart.”

“She says she crosses her heart.”

Willow seemed to think it over then finally nodded.

“Well, there goes our walk,” Diana muttered a minute later, after she’d said good-bye to Lenore. She’d been planning to leave in about fifteen minutes, thinking of how much Willow would enjoy playing in the park on this beautiful day, and the good photographs she could get of the child. Instead, they would be stuck in the house making uncomfortable conversation with Lenore Wentworth. . . .

Sister of Jeffrey Cavanaugh,
Diana thought with abrupt uneasiness. Jeffrey, with his cold, silver eyes, his hostility, his determination to see his daughter—who’d called him the Bad Man and had a shrieking fit when she had seen him. Lenore had promised she would visit by herself, but Diana didn’t know how seriously this woman took a promise made to a child. Lenore might come by herself, and shortly afterward Jeffrey would show up while Diana sat there alone in the house with Willow.

For one flashing instant, Diana wished Tyler Raines were still standing out by that oak tree gazing at the house. She dismissed the wish as ridiculous—she should have called the police when she saw him last night, but she’d
told herself that she didn’t want to throw the household into an uproar.

After her immediate desire for Tyler’s presence when she felt threatened by Lenore’s visit, though, Diana wasn’t so sure that not wanting to disturb everyone had been her real reason for not calling the police. When she’d crawled back in bed, leaving Christabel to watch him watching the house, she’d felt . . . safe.

“Safe!” she burst out, stunned by the thought.

“What? What’s wrong?” Willow squealed right beside her.

Diana pulled herself back to the moment and laughed. “Nothing, honey. I was just thinking of something and a word popped out of my mouth. Ignore me. I’m silly today.”

“That’s ’cause you didn’t eat breakfast,” Willow said wisely.

“Right,” Diana agreed, and thought she probably
was
being silly. Reason told her that she couldn’t trust a man who wasn’t telling the whole truth. She could not believe he didn’t know Penny and Willow, at least casually. He said he lived in New York—where Penny had lived with Jeffrey. He refused to tell her his occupation, but he’d gleaned information about the explosion from the police over twenty-four hours before they were ready to make a public announcement.

She knew nothing about this man . . . except how the night of the fire he’d pulled her car to safety; or that he’d run into Clarice’s house and carried her out before she became trapped by flames; that he’d gone back to the site of the explosion to find Willow; that in the face of her irrational anger and tears yesterday because he hadn’t stayed with Willow in the emergency room, he’d pulled her close and said, ‘Don’t cry, darlin’.’ Most of all, Diana remembered that in spite of herself, she’d felt secure in his arms and both soothed and touched by Tyler’s deep, Southern voice murmuring those words with tenderness, that did not sound phony or patronizing.

Willow stood regarding her gravely, her crown listing to the right. “Diana, are you all right?” she asked cautiously.

“Yes, honey. I was just thinking about Lenore coming.”

The child immediately tensed. “You think she fibbed to us? You think she’s really gonna come with the Bad Man?”

“No,” Diana lied. “Still, I don’t believe we want to sit around here all afternoon, especially because we planned on a walk and taking some pictures.” She paused, thinking. “Willow, how would you like to have a picnic?”

“I love picnics, but maybe we should just hide in the house and not go to the door when the lady comes. I know you’re scared about the Bad Man, no matter what you say.”

The child was acutely perceptive, especially when it came to her mother and Diana. “Well, the Bad Man—I mean Jeffrey—
can’t
come into this house and cause trouble if we’re not here. We had a walk planned. It’s too pretty a day to miss a walk. There’s no reason why Lenore can’t come with us, and we’ll make a real occasion of it by having a picnic.”