Part 15 (2/2)
”ff she still wants to run. If she doesn't, I'll go myself.”
”Wise.” She turned on him. ”It could be that whoever was driving that truck was after her. Have you thought of that?”
”Frankly, no. You're the one who barged into town uninvited. You're the one threatening to change the status quo. You're the one responsible for Bibi not making apple brown betty for Labor Day 344 Thc Pa.s.s16mg of Cbehma Kme sert-and that may sound petty to you and me, ut there's a slew of folks here who didn't like it at 11. Donna's a different story.
She's a Plum and a Farr. She's lived here all her life. There's not a soul in this town who doesn't know her and like her.” But Chelsea wondered about that. So did Nolan. ”I want to ask you something,” he said. Donna had lingered in his office after Chelsea and Judd left. She knew that Nolan had to get to Moss Ridge, but he wasn't rus.h.i.+ng off any more than she was. She had to get home, was already late, but she couldn't resist this small gift. He hunkered down beside her chair and brushed a hand against hers. His touch never failed to amaze her. For a big man, it was exquisitely gentle. ”Do you think Matthew could have anything to do with this?” he asked. Matthew. The thought took her by surprise. Quickly she shook her head. ”He has cause,” Nolan went on. ”He doesn't like you running. Maybe he felt that by scaring the two of you, he'd end it.” Again she shook her head. It wasn't that she thought Matthew incapable of violence. She knew that he was. But hitting his wife was one thing-running down a major player in the town's future was something else. Distressed, she quickly signed some of those thoughts.
Nolan waited until she was done, then caught both of her hands in his one and asked, still gently, even regretfully, ”Where was he last night?” 345 BArbam Degnsky Matthew had been out, as usual. As usual, she had no idea where. Her eyes told Nolan that. ”When did he come home?”
”One,” she mouthed. ”Was he drunk?”
”I think so.” She didn't know for sure, but it was a fair guess. When he was drunk he collapsed on the day bed in the den. Since he hadn't come to bed with her-for which she said a small'prayer of thanks-she a.s.sumed that was where he was. ”Did you see him before you left to run with Chelsea?” She shook her head.
”Was the car in the driveway?” She hadn't looked. But she saw what Nolan was getting at. He studied her hands, ran his thumbs over her knuckles, then raised his eyes to the scoop neck of the singlet she'd worn running. ”It's possible that he came home at one and went out again before you got up. Or that he left the house right after you did, drove to Moss Ridge, picked the lock on the gate, and so on.”
”I'll know soon,” Donna said aloud, because her mind was speeding ahead.
If Matthew had been drunk and dead to the world on the day bed, he would come to breakfast hung over. She would be able to tell by looking at him whether he had been up and driving around that morning. Squeezing Nolan's hand, she whispered, ”I'd better go. If I'm too late, he'll be mad.” Nolan didn't immediately release her hands. ”Will he hit you?” She gave a quick head shake. ”But he has.” 346 The Pa.s.sions of Chelsea Kane RE ”Don't,” she -mouthed pleadingly. She couldn't k about what Matthew had done. Nolan already knew. His eyes saw the bruises that other people missed, especially the ones deep inside that cried i,,@.out for soothing. But there was only so much he could do about those without making things worse. ”I wish you'd leave him.” She shook her head.
”Because of Jos.h.i.+e?” he asked with such concern ,”.on his face that tears came to her eyes. He brushed -Ahem away, leaving his hands framing her face. ”I'll W”,take care of Jos.h.i.+e.” The tears returned. She wrapped her hands his wrists and tried to shake her head, but ””the gesture only moved her cheek against his hand. A ”I want to help you, Donna.” He looked torment- ,@@'-ed. ”Let me help you.” Before she could-protest, he came forward and ,@,-Save her a kiss that was feather light and as sweet anything she'd ever tasted. She hadn't nearly had r fill when he pulled back and said with a surprisagly shy smile, ”I've wanted to do that for a long time.” She touched his mouth with her fingertips, but he sucked one in, the shock of it had her Iling back fast. She held her fisted hand by her eart. ”Too much?” he asked. She forced herself out of the chair. The longer e stayed, the more in danger she was of giving in. 4olan would take her to bed if she wanted. She'd wn that for a long time. He would show her what ,(king love truly meant. She'd wanted that for a time. The issue was a moral one. She was married to 347 Barbara Dennshy Matthew. She couldn't sleep with Nolan.
But where did justice fit into the scheme? Matthew abused her. She had every right to seek solace in another man's arms. If only she had the courage. Running with Chelsea was a small gesture of defiance. Being with Nolan was a far, far greater one than that. ”D'ya do it?” Oliver asked Hunter when he finally showed up at the quarry late that morning.
Hunter strolled up to the railing where Oliver stood with Judd. Tucking his hands under his arms, he peered into the belly of the quarry, where men the size of roaches were at work. Drills bit into rock, cranes rumbled, cables strained, hammers resounded, all of it muted by distance and the breeze. ' you think I did?” Hunter returned. ”I'm askin' the questions here. Did you or didn't you?”
”I didn't.”
”That the truth?”
Hunter's dead expression said that he had no intention of responding-which was, Judd had long ago realized, his greatest weapon against Oliver. Oh, they bickered. Hunter was sufficiently glib to match Oliver reproach for reproach, but silence was more effective. For a man who liked to rule, being ignored was infuriating.. Hunter did just that now. He looked past a glowering Oliver to Judd and said, ”So Nolan hasn't solved the case?”
”No, he hasn't solved the case,” Oliver snapped. The late September breeze raised strands of gray hair on his head, but otherwise he was as stiff as the 348 The Pa.s.sions of Ckelsw Kme , around him. ”I was talkin' to Judd,” Hunter said, then to Judd. ”No leads?” Judd paused, giving Oliver a chance to answer. When he didn't, he said, ”Not yet. There was no sign of a break-in.”
”Had to be an inside job,” Oliver muttered. Hunter spared him a look.
”Where were you at ,?”
”In my own bed, which is probably more than you can say.
Do you have to drive that machine around at five in the morning? Just th'other day, Haskell ,_Rhodes was complaining about the noise. It's a Vgawd-awful sound to wake up to.” Hunter smiled dryly. ”It sure identifies my comngs and goings. If I'd gone out at sunup to get a ruck, the whole town woulda known it.” Again he ked past Oliver to Judd. ”Is she all right?” Judd didn't have to ask who he meant. He wonered if Hunter'knew about the baby. ”She says 6's fine.”
”My daughter was out there, too,” Oliver put in. Hunter responded before Judd could. ”No one ould hurt Donna. Everyone in town likes her but thew, and he wouldn't have the guts to do anying so public.” Oliver scowled. ”What's that supposed to mean?” Hunter pushed his hands, one at a time, deeper to the bunches of sweats.h.i.+rt under his arms. ”You ess.”
”You got a gripe against Matthew?”
”Not me, but you should. He's not nice to your ghter.”
”If he's not nice to her, it's because she does gs she shouldn't do.”
349 Barba= Definshy ”Like what?”
”Like running with Chelsea Kane.”
”What's wrong with that?”
”It's not seemly.”
”Seemly?” Hunter mocked.
”So because she does something that isn't seemly, her husband is allowed to beat her?”
”He doesn't beat her,” Oliver scoffed in dismissal, but Hunter wasn't letting the matter drop, and Judd, for once, agreed.
”Where've you been, old man? The whole town knows he gives her a good wallop when he's in the mood.”
”He doesn't beat her.”
”Keep telling yourself that and you might believe it. Open your eyes and you'll see the truth.” The breeze gusted, whipping his hair back to reveal his gold earring and, Judd thought, an uncharacteristic concern. ”He makes her work like a dog in that store. He orders her around. He ranks on her in front of the customers. He gives her a lousy fifteenminute break three times a day. That what you want for your daughter?”
”You don't know squat.”
”I know. I take your s.h.i.+t all the time, and I may or may not be your kid. But she's a definite. Don't you care about her?”
”I don't need that kind of question from you.”
”You need it from someone. Wake up, old man. He's beating her.” Oliver's tall body was rigid. ”He ain't doin' no such thing. He's a good man, Matthew is. He's Emery's son. Emery's son wouldn't lay a hand on his wife.” Hunter sputtered out a disdainful laugh. ”Emery's son? Not only would Emery's son lay a hand on his 350 The Pa.s.sions of Cjmqsm Amw wife, but he thinks so little of her that he's out every night panting after his own brother's wife.” Oliver leveled him a warning stare, which he promptly ignored. ”'Course, that's been going on so long it's a miracle it doesn't die of old age. Why do you think Matthew didn't get married sooner? He was in love with Joanie Pickwick way back in high school, only Monti got to her first.”
”Shut up, -boy.”
”Joanie got pregnant, they got married and had four more kids, and by then Monti's charm was , wearing thin. And there was Matthew, waiting in the wings.”
”Shut up, boy.”
”Didn't take him long to make it with Joanie. So you know what he does now? He's never home at night. If he isn't screwin' Joanie, he's driving around wis.h.i.+n' he could, and if he isn't doin' that, he's drinking himself dumb. It's a miracle we haven't found him dead at the bottom of a ravine.” Judd had been listening, with both hands on. the guardrail and his eyes on the pit below, when he saw something that set him off. ”Jesus!” he yelled, then even louder, ”Get out of -1he way, Mason!” He gestured the man away from @@,Ahe piece. of rock being moved. ”G.o.ddammit, move or he's gonna lose a hand to that slab!” he bellowed, and took off for the cable car that would take ”,him below. Frankie Mason was one of the new men @he'd recently hired, and he'd had his doubts at the rankie was a slight man, an electrician by 4rade and he did fine working with small wires.
,@ I Aoriing with large slabs of stone and heavy chines was a different ball game. A man needed 351 Barbara Deunsky peripheral vision. He needed an overall understanding of the process and a sixth sense as to what would happen when. Frankie lacked that. Stuffing a hard hat on his head, he swung into the rude cable car, little more than an oversize orange crate, and pushed a b.u.t.ton to start the gears and pulleys. Hunter vaulted in as the car started down. ”Mistake to hire Frankie Mason,” he said. Judd was telling himself the same thing. But there were reasons he had hired Frankie, and those reasons hadn't changed. ”He's got kids. He needs the job.”
”Put him in the shed,” Hunter said, swaying with the bucking of the car. ”No, better, train him to carve. Some of those new jobs need inscriptions. No way can Gaitor and Hal do it alone.” The suggestion had merit, even though it would mean less of an immediate return on Frankie Mason. Frankie wasn't an artist, but if he could splice tiny wires, he could handle the etcher. ”Not a bad idea,” he said to Hunter. With his eyes on the men below, Hunter said, ”I come up with them sometimes.”
”Can you come up with one to keep these guys focused? I don't know what it is lately. Frankie's problem is inexperience, but that's only one of the near misses we've had. Their concentration stinks. Someone's gonna be hurt one of these days. Hey, Murphy!” he called in a voice that would carry over the hiss of the air compressor driving the drills. The cable car lurched to the bottom of the quarry.
”Get Springer over here. I want him working with Mason.” To himself he muttered, ”O-kay. Let's give it one last shot.” 352 Me Fa.s.sions 4 chermw Awe F He was still muttering two weeks later. Chelsea couldn't hear what he was saying exactly-4t was all under his breath-but she could see the displeasure on his face. They were at Kankamaug, a hill of solid granite, one of the newer ones being quarried. She had come to see the stone, which was lavender with sprinides of mica that reflected the light of the overcast sky. October had brought a thin blanket of frost to the early morning gra.s.s and a fiery palette of reds, -oranges, and yellows to the hillsides. Though the air warmed comfortably by midday, Chelsea rarely left Boulderbrook without a sweater or jacket. On this day she was wearing stretch jeans and sneakers, a V-neck sweater that fell low, and a slouchy blazer. ”What's the problem?” she asked Judd.
”Cable attaches to a dog hook, which goes into a hole drilled in the stone. They're puttin' in too many hooks. Balance is off.” He set off for the ladder that would take him to the ledge below. It was the first of a series, stacked ledge to ledge, looking like something from the Indian Southwest. Chelsea glanced at Hunter. ”I'm going down, too.”
”He won't like that,” Hunter warned. But she wanted to be below. Taking the hard hat dangling from his hand, she put it on her head and made off for the ladder. Judd had already disappeared over the lower ledge. The ladder was wide and heavy. She stepped onto the first rung, only to stop when Hunter grabbed her wrist. She looked up in surprise, not so much because he was stopping her but because he had touched her to do it.
<script>