SIXTEEN

There are cops everywhere. At Bessie’s house, at the hospital where that stupid friend of hers is. I wanted to be a family – just the two of us – but she’d rather stay with them. They’re not her family! I’m more her family than they are. I could be Aldon. I could! I could be anybody she wanted me to be! Doesn’t she know how much I need her? Why doesn’t she know? Why? She’s going to die for that!!!

VERA PUGH, APRIL, 2009

Vera Pugh woke up, slightly disoriented. She had to go to the bathroom, that much was for sure. But where was she? Then she remembered: In Willis and E.J.’s bed. Which meant the bathroom was right here in the room. She found it, used it, then decided to go upstairs and check on the kids, wondering what time it was and whether Graham was home yet.

Leaving the bedroom she passed through the family room, noting the time on the digital clock of the cable box. Twelve-thirty. Graham should be home. She pulled herself up the stairs, wondering why anyone in their right mind would buy a two-story house. First you had to climb stairs, and then you had to vacuum them. Vera, who vacuumed every day, thought having stairs was an excessive waste of time and energy.

She got to the upstairs landing and turned left toward Graham’s room. The door was shut, but Vera opened it to peek in. Her night vision was still very good, thank you very much, and she had no need for a nightlight. She could see quite well that Graham was not in his bed. Had she given him a curfew? She wondered. She didn’t remember doing it. Which meant he thought he could come in whenever he wanted, forgetting what his parents usually told him. She smiled. Such a willful boy, that one. Just like both her boys had been.

Deciding to check on the girls to make sure they were covered properly, she went back down the hall, stopping first at Elizabeth’s room. Opening the door, she discovered Elizabeth was not in her bed. Hoping her granddaughters had decided to sleep together this night, she hurried to Megan’s room. Through the piles of clothes on the floor, Vera could see the bed, stacked high with something. Was it the girls, she wondered. Flipping on the overhead light, she discovered that it was just more clothes. Neither Megan nor Elizabeth was here.

Vera went back downstairs to the front door and opened it. Sure enough, her Valiant was not in the driveway. She went to the family room and grabbed the cordless phone. She didn’t really care what time it was; an emergency was an emergency, period. She dialed Elena Luna’s number.

GRAHAM, THE PRESENT

It was Wednesday and Lotta had the night off. We went to an early movie and then headed to the boonies.

‘I can’t believe your parents are taking that girl in! I mean she’s sweet and all, but she’s not, you know, family,’ Lotta said.

‘Yeah, well, technically, neither was Liz—’

‘What?’ she said, her eyes wide.

‘Liz is adopted. I thought you knew,’ I said.

‘Why would your parents do that? They had you. And Megan. Couldn’t your mom have more babies?’

‘No, that wasn’t it,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘See, what happened was . . .’ And I told her the whole story, or as much of it as I knew. I’ve never been sure my parents have told us the whole thing, but I’ve always figured we knew as much as we needed to know.

And then she was full of questions. All I wanted to do was start making out, but when Lotta had questions, you had to answer them.

‘So Liz’s whole family was murdered? Oh my God! That poor thing! She must be devastated!’

‘Honey, that was a long time ago,’ I said. ‘She’s been through counseling and had ten years of us—’

‘You called me honey,’ she said, a smile on her face.

‘Ah . . .’ I said. Shit! What did that mean? Did saying honey mean we had to get engaged or something? What had I done?

‘I liked that you called me honey,’ she said, and kissed me. OK, so the Liz discussion was over. And maybe I was engaged. Whatever.

We were making out like crazy and I was headed to a base I’d never been to before when a loud noise and the tinkling of glass brought me up. As I sat up there was another loud noise and a hole appeared in the driver’s side window.

‘Shit!’ I yelled, pushing Lotta back down on the seat. ‘Stay down!’

She was saying something but the words were muffled by her face being slammed into the front seat by my hand. With the other hand I turned the key in the ignition, just as another explosion took out the back window. The car started and I hit the accelerator, my head bent down as far as I could and still see out the windshield a little.

Then I saw him. Standing right in my way. Aiming the assault rifle straight at the car. I floored it! I wanted to run over the son of a bitch! Cream him! Grind him into the ground!

He jumped out of the way. I started to turn around and go for him again, but he was up and aiming the rifle at us again. I headed toward Black Cat. Next time, I told myself. Next time your ass is grass and I’m the lawn mower!

E.J., THE PRESENT

For someone who never thought she wanted kids, I seem to collect them like some people collect stamps. I’ve found out over the years, though, that I kind of like them, at times. Sort of. We spent the next morning shopping, the girls and I. We went to Wal-Mart and got a package of bikini panties, cotton, extra-small, in patterns and bright colors. We bought two bras, one white, one black with multicolored polka-dots (Elizabeth’s idea), a pair of bright orange flip-flops with tassels, a pair of blue jean shorts, and a vivid green, ruffled, cotton, short-sleeved shirt, and assorted scrunchies and other hair-fixers in a rainbow of colors. With that, Alicia would be able to leave the hospital.

Carrying our booty, we emerged in Alicia’s room at the hospital just as the doctor came in.

‘Mrs Pugh,’ he said, extending his hand. We shook and he said, ‘Alicia is doing great. Her ear is healing nicely and there appear to be no complications. The nurse will give you a sheet of paper that will have things to watch out for from this type of injury, and reasons to call.’ He shook my hand again, patted Alicia’s shoulder and was gone.

‘All right!’ I said cheerfully, wondering how in the hell I got myself into these things. ‘Girls, you want to show her the loot?’

‘What?’ Alicia said, eyes big when she saw the Wal-Mart bag.

‘I’ll wait outside,’ I said, letting the girls have fun playing dress-up.

In about five minutes, Megan stuck her head out the door. ‘It’s OK, Mom.’

I went in. It was an entirely different girl. The large bandage had been removed from her head, and all that was left was the one on her ear. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, showing a pretty face, and the shorts revealed very long, very nice legs. Wednesday was gone; in her place was Alicia, the girl she should have been all along.

We grabbed everything – which included a balloon the girls had brought her and the clothes she was wearing when she got shot. As we started to drive home, Alicia yelled, ‘Stop!’ and I slammed on the brakes.

‘What’s wrong?’ I said, turning in my seat.

‘Ah, sorry,’ she said, blushing. ‘Could you back up to that dumpster please?’

I did as she asked, and she scooted past Elizabeth and out the door, her bag of belongings in her hand. With a wind-up worthy of a major-leaguer, Alicia tossed the bag into the dumpster. Without a word she climbed back in the car, while both my other girls slapped her on the back.

BLACK CAT RIDGE, TEXAS, 1999

We found Berry Rush in his church office. He looked up as we burst into the room. Luna slapped the warrant on his desktop.

‘Reverend Rush, you have the right to remain silent, anything you say can be used against you. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed—’

‘What in the world?’ He looked at Willis and me. ‘Willis, E.J., what’s going on here?’

Luna finished reading him his rights. ‘Do you understand these rights as I have outlined them to you?’

‘Of course, Officer,’ he said. ‘I’m not an idiot! What in the world are you arresting me for, if I may be so bold?’

‘For the murders of Roy Lester, Terry Lester, Monique Lester, and Aldon Lester.’

Reverend Rush, who’d been lifting himself from his chair, sank back down. ‘My God,’ he said.

‘Do you wish to waive your right to an attorney?’ Luna asked.

Reverend Rush shook his head, his hand reaching out for the phone. ‘May I call the church attorney now?’ he asked.

Luna nodded and he picked up the phone.

Willis and I drove back to our house, calling Aunt Louise to let her know all was well and to ask if she’d keep the kids another night.

‘Of course, honey. They’re such a joy.’ She sighed. ‘I just can’t believe it. A man of God! Doing such a thing!’

‘I know,’ I said. ‘It’s unbelievable. But it’s happened before.’

I hung up and sat down on the couch with my husband who was reading the copy of the journal Luna had given us. I read over his shoulder for what seemed like the thousandth time. There was a lot to take in.

ELIZABETH, THE PRESENT

Mom decided to let us work out the room situation. Personally I thought the most efficient and fair thing would be for Mom to give up her office upstairs, go back to the one on the first floor (the closet under the stairs), and let Alicia have that room as hers. Any way you look at it – Alicia gets her own room and I move in with Meg, or Meg keeps her own room and Alicia moves in with me – somebody is going to feel left out. I mentioned my idea about Mom’s office out loud.

‘Liz, that’s a great idea!’ Megan said. ‘We could fix up her room so cute!’

‘Oh no!’ Alicia said. ‘I can’t take your mother’s office! That would be awful!’

Megan brushed aside Alicia’s reservations. ‘She had her office under the stairs for years! And she loved it! I bet she’d really like to go back down there! We make too much noise upstairs while she’s trying to work, anyway, huh, Liz?’

‘Elizabeth,’ I said succinctly. ‘I’m really tired of both you and Graham calling me Liz! My name is Elizabeth. And yes, we do make too much noise up here while she’s trying to work. Good point, Megs.’

‘Don’t call me Megs,’ Megan said.

Alicia giggled. ‘Y’all can call me anything you want!’

So we headed downstairs to take on our mother. She was in the kitchen, sitting at the table, reading a magazine. When she could have been upstairs working. See what we mean?

‘Mom, may we talk to you?’ I asked.

She put down the magazine and smiled. ‘Sure, girls. Have a seat.’

I pulled up an extra chair from the dining room, and we all sat down. ‘Well,’ Megan started, then looked at me.

‘We were talking about the room situation . . .’ I started.

‘And, well, the thing is . . .’ Megan continued.

‘What we thought might work best is if . . .’

‘Alicia took your office!’ Megan said loudly and in a rush.

Mom looked at all of us and then said, ‘You know, I was thinking the same thing. I can’t hear myself think in my present office when y’all are home, what with your music and you two screaming at each other from room to room. And I sort of miss my old closet – I mean office.’ She grinned.

Both Megan and I turned on Alicia as one and said, ‘I told you!’

Alicia stood up. ‘Mrs Pugh, thank you but I can’t do that.’

Mom looked up at Alicia as she stood above us all. ‘First of all, please call me E.J. and never Mrs Pugh. And second of all, I’ve been thinking about moving my office back downstairs for a while now, honey. You are not putting me out.’

Alicia sat back down and hung her head. There’s an expression I’ve heard that I think applied to Alicia at that moment – she looked like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. That means – well, I guess you know what that means. Anyway, I don’t think she was used to people being nice to her and it broke my heart to think of what she must have been through. And then to think that I could have been in the same boat if not for Mom and Dad – E.J. and Willis, I mean. It made me sort of sick to my stomach.

Mom reached over and patted Alicia’s hand. ‘It’s OK, honey. You’ll get used to us. I’m pretty sure we’re the good guys, so please don’t be afraid. If anything bothers you, let’s talk about it, OK? At the moment it happens, or the next day, or ten months later, I don’t care. Talking. It’s what we Pughs do.’

‘Oh, yeah,’ Megan said. ‘We can talk. Talk your head off and spit in the hole, as Grandma Vera says.’

GRAHAM, APRIL, 2009

‘Be quiet!’ Graham hissed.

Everyone stopped talking. ‘Just listen to me, OK?’

All eyes turned to Graham. ‘Eddie, you and Uncle Ernesto stay with the car, in case they double back.’

Eddie and Uncle Ernesto nodded.

‘Lotta, you take these two,’ he said, indicating cousins whose names he’d forgotten, ‘and fan out,’ he said, pointing to the right. ‘Manny, you and Megan come with me. We’re taking the path.’

‘You’d do better taking me than Manny!’ Lotta said, hands on hips.

‘Somebody’s gotta control these guys,’ Graham pointed out in a whisper.

Lotta thought for a moment then nodded her head. ‘You’re right. Without a babysitter they’ll end up driving back to down for tacos!’

‘Listen for me,’ he told them. ‘I’ll holler out if I need you.’

They all nodded and he, Megan and Manny hit the trail.

ELIZABETH, APRIL, 2009

Tommy/Aldon led her to the door of a shack in the middle of the woods. A poor excuse for a driveway led up to it, but she couldn’t imagine anything but a four-wheel drive making it. The shack was just a black outline to Elizabeth, but she could smell mildew and dust and old. Inside was pitch black until Tommy/Aldon lit a candle, then she could see a bit of her surroundings, but mostly she could see him. His hair wasn’t really blond so much as light brown, or what they called dirty blond. More like beige, really. All of him. His skin, his hair, his eyes, even his clothes, various shades of beige. His eyes were like glass doll’s eyes. No spark of spirit or soul. His lips were thin and his nose pointed. She noted all this, memorizing it, ready for the sketch artist she would describe him to. Because Elizabeth knew she would get away from this man, knew that she would live to tell her tale. And hopefully live to beat the living shit out of him!

‘Sit down, Bessie,’ he said, indicating a neatly made-up cot in the corner. She moved to it, gingerly sitting down. The bedding was new; it didn’t smell like the rest of the room; it smelled like Downy, the smell of home. This brought tears to her eyes that she willed away. Don’t break down, she told herself. Don’t give him the satisfaction!

‘What now, Aldon?’ she asked.

He looked at her for a long moment, a look on his face that scared Elizabeth. It wasn’t a mean look, a dangerous look; it was a blank look. A look that said he had not thought beyond this point. From now on, Elizabeth knew, he would be playing it by ear. Which meant her living through the next few hours could be totally up to her – up to what she said, how she reacted, how she played his game.

Memories were flooding her, of playing Candy Land with Aldon, with his made-up rules that always let him win; of throwing the gingerbread men from the Candy Land game at her brother, hearing him laugh, hearing Mom say, ‘You make a mess, you clean it up!’ Same thing Mama E.J. said.

Mama E.J.! God, how she wanted her now. If she’d been here, this wouldn’t have happened, Elizabeth thought. Nobody could have gotten to her if Mama had been here. Tears threatened again, and she pushed away the thoughts.

Tommy/Aldon had turned, moving into the small kitchen area, such as it was: a camp stove on a counter by a sink, and an ice chest next to it.

‘You hungry?’ he asked.

Elizabeth said, ‘Yes.’ Keep him busy, she thought. She was totally untaped now, both her hands and feet. With his back to her, she looked around the small cabin, looking for something heavy she could use to bash his skull in – some kind of weapon, anything.

She saw the door opening before the creaking of its hinges sounded, making Tommy/Aldon swing around, a sharp knife in his hand. Graham stood in the doorway.