Part 29 (1/2)
Calm, even steps, she cautioned herself. Don't draw anyone's attention.
Without a backward glance, she walked slowly toward the exit sign and freedom.
Sam stayed in the early-morning shadows as she crept to the door. She'd hitched a ride with a trucker not far from the hospital, and the driver had dropped her off at Dunlap's. She hesitated for a moment before exiting the cab. The parking lot was full of cars. Probably not enough time for a search party to gather to hunt her down, right? Steeling herself and keeping her back toward the station, she scurried for the cover of a copse of nearby pines. By the time she'd hiked that last mile to her destination, the muscles in her left leg were trembling from exertion. She doubted that she could walk another step.
”Please, please be here,” she prayed as she lifted her hand to knock. Greg had claimed to be her friend. Crossing two fingers on her other hand, she hoped he'd meant it.
Her light rap set off a barrage of wild barking from inside, followed by the stern command ”Silence.” The barking ceased.
The door opened and she looked up into Greg's puzzled face. Stepping back, he motioned her inside. ”Hey, Sam, told you that I'd bring Roxy back this morning.”
”I know, but I need to talk to you,” Sam replied with a nervous glance over her shoulder.
As she stepped inside, Roxy greeted her and Sam paused to crouch and rest her chin on the dog's head. Then she rose and followed Greg into the living room. Gratefully, she sank down onto the couch.
Instead of joining her, Greg eyed her. ”Rough night?”
”You might say that.”
”Like some coffee?”
”Love it.” She sighed.
He left the room and returned a few moments later bearing a steaming cup.
Gratefully she accepted the cup and took a careful sip. As soon as the coffee hit her throat, the warmth spread through her body until it hit the cold spot that had lingered inside ever since she'd heard the words residential facility. It remained like a chunk of ice that refused to melt.
”Everything okay?” Greg asked cautiously.
”Not really,” she replied with a grimace, then hesitated. ”I need your help.” Quickly, she related everything that had happened at the hospital. A hard look crossed his face when he heard Jackson's opinion of Anne.
”She doesn't have a mercenary bone in her body.”
”I know, but I can't ask her for help. Dad's already mad, and she doesn't have the means to go up against him. To involve her further would only bring her more trouble.”
Greg shook his head slowly. ”I'd like to help you, but I don't know what I can do.”
”I'm not crazy, Greg.”
”I believe you, but-”
”I don't understand what's happening to me-the dreams, the blackouts-but if I could know for sure that it's Blanche, it might help.”
He sat next to her and pulled his fingers through his hair. ”I was just a kid when Blanche lived up here and I don't remember much about her. I know my mom didn't like her, and I overheard a few conversations between her and my dad about her doings.”
”What did she say?”
”She didn't approve of the way Blanche was carrying on with Ted Brighton.”
”Did she ever mention Edward Dunlap and Blanche being an item?”
He rubbed his chin. ”No.” He paused. ”But Mom didn't like Esther either, and I vaguely remember her saying something about how Esther resented the way Edward followed Blanche around.”
Sam s.h.i.+fted toward him. ”So they were involved,” she said, the excitement apparent in her voice.
”Sam,” he cautioned, ”an offhand remark made years ago doesn't prove anything. You know how gossip flies around here.”
She sat back. ”The old adage-*where there's smoke, there's fire.' ”
”Only in some people's imaginations.”
”Okay, so who was the man Blanche ran off with? We know it wasn't Ted Brighton or Edward Dunlap.”
”No idea.” Greg leaned back against the couch and propped his long legs on the coffee table.
”No one ever heard from her again?”
”No.”
”What about Harley?”
”No-he sold out and moved shortly after Blanche left.”
”What about friends? Did she have any friends?”
He arched an eyebrow. ”You mean other than her boyfriends?”
Sam nodded.
”I remember her hanging out over at Fritz's.”
”Really.” She leaned forward in surprise. ”I didn't think he liked her.”
”That's probably true. Since I became an adult and heard the stories about her, I've wondered if Fritz didn't hang out with her solely because of the trouble she caused. He likes seeing people squirm, especially Ted Brighton. He hated old Ted when he was alive-that I remember very well.”
”Do you know why?”
”Fritz was involved in some kind of scandal at the college where he taught, and he was forced to leave.”
”What does that have to do with the Brightons?”
”Ted was on the alumni board, and since they'd grown up together here on the lake, Fritz expected him to help save his job. Ted refused, according to gossip.” Greg shook his head. ”You're asking me to remember things I haven't thought about in years.” He turned toward her. ”And, Sam, I don't know how any of this old gossip will help you and I don't have any clue about how accurate it is.”
Sam bent and stroked Roxy's ears. ”You're right,” she said, discouraged. ”I should be thinking of ways to outfox my father and Jackson.” She sighed and sat back, leaning her head against the couch. ”I'm so tired right now that I can't think straight.”
Greg turned toward her and leaned closer. ”Don't worry, Sam. You'll figure a way out of this.”