For once I was happy to see Sergeant Hurley. He’d been handling trouble since before I was born, most of it in Madrid County. If anyone could take the reins from Aunt Penny, it would be him.
Instead of heading off with sirens blaring, he sat back and listened to my whole story from beginning to end. As he listened, my pulse came back to normal. He ordered Jessica to call the paramedics and double-check all the missing persons. Then he got up, hitched his belt and studied the big map on the wall. His eyes narrowed. His finger traced roads from my farm, finally stopping in a big area of bush farther north.
It was a region where many of the local guys had their hunt camps. I had never been up there because I don’t like hunting. But I knew there was nothing but acres of lakes, forests and deer.
He tapped the area with his finger. “Pretty rough country up here. A hundred years ago it was heavily logged, but settlers couldn’t make a go of farming. Too much rock and bush.”
I thought of my own patch of scrub. Not much better down here, I almost said. But I didn’t want to interrupt. Hurley didn’t usually take me this seriously. In the background, Jessica spoke into the phone.
“But there are still some tough old-timers up there, making a go of it,” Hurley said. “Survivalist types, loners, misfits. They like to run things their own way, don’t like rules and regulations. You don’t bother me and I won’t bother you. And if they’re doing no harm, we mostly leave them be.”
“That’s nearly thirty miles away! How did the kids get to my place?”
Hurley shrugged. “Walked? Hitched? Stowed away?”
I thought it over. It made a crazy kind of sense. The kids were smart enough. “The boy does act like he’s never seen the outside world. Not even electricity.”
Aunt Penny huffed. “So the authorities just ignored these kids? The girl was twelve years old when she had the boy, and he’s never been in school.”
Hurley shrugged. “Likely no one knew. The farms are pretty isolated, and these guys aren’t exactly friendly with their neighbors. Lots of things—violence, abuse— go on in those remote homesteads that never get reported. Folks mind their own business.”
“But the kids themselves. The girl. Why stay in that situation all those years?” Right and wrong always did seem clearer to Aunt Penny than to the rest of us.
Jessica hung up. “The paramedics are on their way from Hinchinbrooke, sir.”
Hinchinbrooke was half an hour away over bad roads. Hurley made a face. “Call them back. Tell them we’ll meet them out at Rick’s place.” He picked up his keys and strapped on his utility belt as he headed out the door. He gave Aunt Penny a patient look. “Where’s a girl like that going to go?” he asked. “Who is she going to tell? And if this was her life, would she even know any different?”
Aunt Penny has never been married, never had a family. Has never known any life except her store and our town. But people tell her things over the counter. Even she knows about the things that go on behind closed country doors. When life’s frustrations boil over, and guys come home from the Lion’s Head full of too much booze and anger. For some wives, it is just the price to be paid for a home.
But Aunt Penny tightened her jaw as she followed him outside. She was not giving up on the kids just yet. “Well, it ends now. The woman may be of age, but she’s in no condition to take care of him.”
“Maybe when she’s better—”
“Not because she’s sick, but because she hasn’t protected and nurtured him! He’s little more than an animal. Not even the most basic instruction!”
“Inbreeding,” Hurley said bluntly. “Not a whole lot of women to choose from up there. I bet her father or uncle is the father. Sometimes the children turn out retarded, and the family keeps them hidden at home.” He stopped by his cruiser. Laid a hand on Aunt Penny’s arm. “Let me do my job, Penny. Go home. I’ll take Rick back and make sure these kids are all right.”
As we drove along the main highway toward my place, I could feel my heart pounding. I was angry at what he’d said but afraid to stand up to him.
Finally, I couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “Robin is not retarded!” I burst out. “He’s just never been to school. He knows a whole lot about tending a farm, and he’s even learning to read.”
“If he’s never been to school, that’s even worse,” Hurley said. With a smooth hand he steered the cruiser off the main highway. “Your aunt is right. Children’s Services has to be called in.”
Dust rose around us from my backcountry road. Far ahead, I could see my tin roof glinting in the sun. I knew I didn’t have much time left to convince him. “He’s scared enough already. There are so many new things. He knows me. He knows the farm. If you drag in Children’s Services…”
He looked over at me. Hurley had been a rookie cop the first time I was taken into care. He’d known my mother all her life. They’d been in high school together. He had tried to help her, but she’d been too lost in her own world. I think he always felt guilty about that. He’s grown tougher over the years, but he still has kind of a soft spot for me. “Let’s see what we’ve got first, okay?” he said.
I spotted the first hint of trouble as soon as we turned in the gate. The ambulance hadn’t arrived yet, but Chevy was missing from her post on the front porch. I said nothing, but my heart jumped into my throat. Hurley parked by my truck and climbed out. He hitched his gun belt over his gut and headed for the door. I trailed, trying to plan my next move. The house was very quiet. Too quiet.
Without a word, Hurley headed upstairs. He aimed straight for my mother’s bedroom, like he knew exactly where it was. I had to run to keep up with him. In the doorway, he stopped so fast that I bumped into him.
“Fuck,” he muttered. I peered over his shoulder. Saw the bedding strewn on the floor, the bandages and pills all gone from the dresser. The bed empty.
Hurley spun on his heel and rushed back downstairs. His face was dark red. By the time he reached the kitchen, he was already on his radio to dispatch. “Now we’ve got trouble,” he said. “They’re missing.”
I stood there in silence. Sick with fear. We had more trouble than Hurley knew. Because my mother’s shotgun was not where I’d put it the night before.