(Chapter 34. February 2. Various places in Pennsylvania.)
Steve woke and stretched, and all of his nerves screamed in pain. For a moment, he couldn't breathe and he thought he was going to be sick. His muscles were so stiff and sore he thought he had been beaten, but he couldn't recall when, where, why, or by whom. It was dark, and he had the sense of being in an enclosed space, but he couldn't remember where he was. Finally, he was able to draw breath, and the mingled scents of lavender, wood smoke, and a pleasant mustiness reminded him that he was in Olivia's house in Pennsylvania. Thus reassured, he began to take stock of his situation.
Where was Olivia?
He started to sit up, but the intense pain of unbelievably sore muscles kept him down. He moaned, and called out, "Liv?"
The canopy drapes parted, and he saw an elegant bedroom furnished in Victorian style. Everything was bathed in golden light from the fireplace. Olivia sat on the bed beside him and brushed the hair from his face.
"What is it, babe?"
"I hurt…everywhere." A weird thread of panic began to tickle in his chest, and he struggled to keep it from his voice. "Why do I hurt so bad, Liv?"
"Easy, babe. It's ok," she said in a singsong voice that proved he had not been entirely successful in hiding his fears. "I kind of expected this." She continued stroking his forehead. "I think it's just the stress of the flight, the cold that you're not used to, waiting tables, and all that mess at the sheriff's office yesterday. You were busier and under more stress than you have been for a while."
"I think need a Darvocet, Liv. I haven't hurt this bad since physical therapy."
"I want to try something else, first, sweetie. If it doesn't work, I'll give you some Advil, but I'd rather you not take a narcotic if we can avoid it, ok? With the cold weather and Ted being loose, you might have quite a few stressful days while we're here, and you don't want the oxycodone to dull your wits."
"Whatever. It doesn't hurt so bad if I stay still."
"Ok," she smiled, "You just relax a little while. I'm going to turn up the electric blanket, warm up the room, fix you some breakfast, and give you a massage."
Steve closed his eyes. "Ok, but you don't have to do this, you know."
"I know. I want to."
She tucked the electric blanket under his chin and turned the dial to high, then pulled the quilt all the way over it to hold in the heat. She tied back the curtains on the bed, and stoked the fire in the fireplace. Steve was admiring the silhouette through her nightgown when a thought occurred to him.
"Liv, you've got to be freezing."
She giggled and said, "Not really. As long as I'm wearing my slippers, I'm ok."
"Crazy mountain people," Steve muttered mostly to himself. "Don't even have sense enough to keep warm."
"Actually, we do have sense enough, but we woodland types also have hardier constitutions and a greater tolerance for extremes than you delicate creatures of the sun, surf, and sand." She shot him a naughty look and he rolled his eyes.
She giggled and said, "I'll be back with your breakfast in a few minutes."
For a while, Steve was content to doze under the warm electric blanket. He was amazed at his luck in finding a girl like Liv. 'No,' he corrected, 'she's a woman. She may be childlike and mischievous, but she's no girl. She's one hell of a woman.'
While he waited for his breakfast, he surveyed the room. It was vast, and richly furnished with all walnut furniture; but it was not over-full. The four-poster bed with its ample curtains would have filled his bedroom at home. There were matching bedside tables, each holding the odd assortment of knick-knacks and a tiffany-style lamp, and in the near corner was a chaise with a small table holding a dried flower arrangement. The fireplace was a large marble affair flanked by two wing chairs with a low table between them. When he saw the bear rug on the floor in front of the fireplace, Steve had to grin. It was the only thing that did not belong, and it was a testament to Liv's quirky personality. She probably kept it because it was "cool."
At the foot of the bed sat a small chair, and against the opposite wall was a tall armoire. A marble-topped washstand with an ornate porcelain basin and pitcher sat in the corner nearest the foot of the bed, and a marble topped dresser sat against the wall to his right. In the far corner was a vanity strewn with an assortment of odds-and-ends, including a silver grooming set and an ornately carved jewelry box. The four windows and two sets of French doors were covered with sheer lace curtains behind green, gold, and burgundy floral drapes. There were candles on the mantle, the tables, the vanity, the dresser, and the washstand. In his mind's eye, he could see what a romantic atmosphere he could create some evening during this visit.
The chaise, the vanity chair, and the chair at the foot of the bed repeated the pattern of the drapes, as did the rug covering most of the hardwood floor. The chairs by the fireplace were covered in burgundy velvet. The walls were paneled up to the chair rail with an attractive floral wallpaper the rest of the way up. Crown molding covered the seam between wall and ceiling, and its pattern was echoed in the base from which the chandelier hung.
As he thought about it, Steve suddenly realized how huge the house must be. Last night, he'd seen at least half a dozen other doors on the hall, and he counted five doors in this bedroom. He wondered what was down stairs. In spite of what Kenney had said yesterday, the house didn't seem to be all that drafty, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized it was a bad place to be if some lunatic was stalking them. It was just too big and had too many places to hide. He'd have to discuss matters with Olivia soon, but he knew he would not rest easy in this house as long as Ted was loose.
Steve turned his head and looked at the nightstand, reassured to see that the county-issued .38 caliber revolver was still there. It wasn't his own 9 mm, but it would do. Suddenly his stomach growled audibly as the smell of breakfast drifted into the room.
He thought to go downstairs and save Olivia a trip, but when he tried to get up, his lower back and legs screamed at him again. The pain wasn't as mind-blowing as before, but it still made his breath catch in his chest. Olivia came in as he was easing himself back down to the mattress.
"Hey, I told you to relax. If you don't listen to me, I will make you wish you had."
"I already do," he grunted.
"Serves you right. Let me help."
She put the tray on the dresser for a moment, and arranged a mountain of pillows against the headboard.
"Brace yourself."
He gritted his teeth and nodded. She slipped an arm under his shoulders and slowly lifted. He marveled again at her strength, as he wasn't being much help. She helped him sit upright and settle against the pillows. It was good that he was still in bed; he felt a bit shaky from the pain.
Then she sat the tray across his lap, "Huevos rancheros, toast, and oj." With a wicked grin she added, "I was kind of hungry, too, so I made enough for both of us. There was only room for one plate on the tray, though. I figured we could split it."
For a moment her humor was lost on him, then he remembered that first morning. He couldn't fend off the blush he felt heating his cheeks, but he gamely used his knife to split the eggs down the middle and asked, "Which half do you want?"
They ate in silence for some time before Steve realized his gaze was resting on Olivia's little .38 snub-nosed revolver in its holster hanging from the chair at the vanity. A look must have crossed his face, because Olivia said, "Go ahead, ask."
He sighed in frustration. "You're worse than my dad, you know? I didn't even realize yet that I had anything to ask."
"But you do, so ask it."
"Well, you're pretty good at self-defense, Liv. You had me cold that first day, decked me twice at your house before Christmas, and handled the sheriff easily yesterday."
"Yeah, so?"
"So why do you need to carry a gun?"
She thought a moment before answering. "Because Ted will, if he gets the chance. Even if he doesn't, I'm five-three and weigh less than 110 pounds. He's six-seven and weighed 250 when he was skinny. He and Keith taught me most of my moves, too, so I'd never be able to surprise him. I need to stop him before he gets close enough to touch me, or I don't stand a chance."
Steve digested what she told him, then said, "But you fought him off once before."
"After he'd been shot in the head."
Steve nodded, and asked carefully, "Could you kill him if you had to?"
She was quiet so long he thought she might refuse to answer. Finally, she said, "Not for me, not in self-defense. If he were hurting someone else, I might, but I don't know."
Steve thought she looked totally lost and alone.
He took her delicate hands in his and kissed them. "Promise me that if I can't help you, you'll do what you must to stop him?"
"I'll do what I can, Steve."
"Do whatever it takes, Liv. Promise."
She shook her head. "I can't make that promise. I won't."
"Liv," he said seriously.
"Steve, no. I can defend myself. I will defend myself, but I'm not sure I can kill a man. I won't promise anything that includes that possibility."
"Then if it comes to that I'll have to make sure I'm there to do it," he said in a challenging tone.
Surprisingly, she acquiesced. "Suit yourself." She handed him his orange juice and said, "Drink this and finish your breakfast, then I'm going to give you that massage. In half an hour, I want to get you in the hot tub. We'll loosen up those muscles and see how you feel."
Knowing enough to let the matter lie, he did as he was told.
As it turned out, the massage relaxed him sufficiently that he did not need to soak in the hot tub. After a quick shower and a couple of Advil, he felt ready to face the day.
He came out of the bathroom toweling his hair and saying, "Liv, that tub is big enough to swim laps!"
She laughed, and told him, "Actually, babe, that's what the pool is for."
His eyebrows shot up and she threw his jeans at him saying, "Get your clothes on, and I'll give you the tour."
They started at the French doors to the right of the bed. These opened onto a balcony that overlooked a sloping bank and a lazy stream edged with wild grape vines and berry bushes. Another set of French doors led to a balcony providing a wonderful view of an open meadow bordered by the forest. They watched for a few minutes while several deer came out of the woods and foraged for food hidden beneath the snow. The door beside the vanity was a walk-in closet, Steve had been in the master bath, and the other door opened onto the hall.
Olivia led him through the master bath into a well-appointed personal gym. Several weight machines, as well as a treadmill, a stationary bike, and a stair master shared space with a ping-pong table, exercise mats, a hot tub, and a sauna. A fridge sat in the corner, probably stocked with juice and sports drinks. Two doors led out to a wrap-around balcony. The north side of the balcony had the same view as the one in the bedroom, but the western balcony overlooked the pool. When he stepped out, Steve saw steam rising.
"Heated?" he asked.
"Of course. We'll go for a swim tonight."
"I didn't bring my suit."
She giggled. "Neither did I."
Stepping out onto the hall, Liv indicated six more doors, and said simply, "Bathroom, four bedrooms, closet."
She took him downstairs and into a huge living room furnished in dark wood and white leather furniture with an enormous oriental rug on the floor. There were two fireplaces, a grand piano, and a glass faced gun cabinet. "The rifle and shotgun are in there. Ammo's in the drawer, and the key to the cabinet is in the box on the mantle of the near fireplace." Pointing to a set of French doors to his left, she said, "The pool's out there. There's a pool house for people to change and a guesthouse out there, too."
"You mean this house isn't big enough?"
She shrugged. "The original owner had twelve kids."
Steve gave a low whistle. "Guess we know what he liked to do for fun."
She laughed, and indicated another set of doors across the room. "That's the way out to the flower garden."
Leading him to the right through a third set of doors, she said, "And this is the dining room. The table seats eighteen when fully extended. There's a matching table and thirty more chairs in storage."
Steve didn't know much about interior decorating, but he knew pure elegance when he saw it. Three crystal chandeliers illuminated the room, and the candelabra on the mahogany table, sideboard, china cabinet, and buffet echoed the design. A beast of a marble fireplace filled a third of the north wall, and the east wall was mostly windows, with yet another set of French doors opening onto and immaculate patio.
"Liv," Steve said softly, "This is a great house. Is this where you grew up?"
She laughed. "Oh, no, babe. There's not much left of the house I grew up in. This house belonged to a man who attended our church. Mr. Ralph Bradley was old and blind the first time I met him, and he had no family left to take care of him. Mama and Daddy made sure he was never alone for the holidays. No matter how lean things were for us, there was always a place for him at our table on Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, and every Sunday. There was always a present under the tree, and a basket from the Easter bunny, too."
"I see," Steve said. "And since your family was gone, he left it to you."
"Not exactly. He left it all to Daddy. We were going to move in here, had everything packed and ready to go the next day. That night the house burned. A long lost relative of Mr. Bradley's showed up to claim the estate, but Jud and May Stephens hired a lawyer to fight it. I got seventy- five percent of all financial holdings and all the real estate. The relative got the other quarter of the money."
"Liv, forgive me for asking, but, how did you survive the fire?"
She turned from him and walked out into the hall, her heels clacking on the hardwood floor. "I was away from home," she said. "I'll tell you all about it later, but right now, let's finish the tour. You haven't even seen the coolest part yet."
She led him into a large country kitchen with a flagstone floor and butcher- block counters. There was a roomy breakfast nook in one corner, a center island with a sealed cook-top and an overhead rack for pots, pans, and utensils. The sink was under a window that looked down the driveway, and there was a double oven near the utility room. The refrigerator and the dishwasher had doors designed to match the cupboards so they blended right in, and the walk-in pantry contained all the usual foodstuffs as well as a large chest freezer and a variety of small kitchen appliances.
Steve grinned. "My dad could spend all day here."
Liv laughed. "I'm sure he'd enjoy himself, but he might prefer the library. We'll get there in just a minute."
She led him into the mudroom through a door in the corner of the breakfast nook. There was nothing there but a washer, dryer, laundry chute, doormat, and a few potted plants, but like every room he had seen so far, it was nicely pulled together with a decorative theme. This time, Liv had chosen sunflowers.
She led him back into the hall and pointed to a door at the end. "That's a half-bath. There's a full bath at the top of the stairs, and two more half- baths, one for each pair of guestrooms."
Opening a door to his left, she said, "This is the parlor."
The room was bright and airy, decorated in what Steve thought was a tasteful blend of stripes and floral patterns. He also saw yet another fireplace.
"Liv, how many fireplaces does this house have?"
He shook his head when he saw he counting on her fingers. "Eleven, including the four in the guestrooms and one downstairs, but there used to be thirteen. I did away with two when I remodeled. I turned the husband's bedroom into a master bedroom, his dressing room and the wife's sitting room became the walk-in closet and the master bath, and her bedroom became the gym. Her fireplace is now the heat source for the sauna. I just completely tore out the fireplace that used to be in the kitchen. I couldn't figure out how to work around it. Let's go into the library."
The library was pretty much what Steve expected. He saw lots of books, some comfortable chairs, a desk, a window seat, and of course, a fireplace, but nothing that would lead him to believe his dad would find it more exciting than the kitchen.
"This is nice, all right, Liv, but what made you think this would get Dad all hot and bothered. She grinned enigmatically and crooked a finger at him indicating he should follow. She led him to a set of shelves and said, "Read the titles."
"Hmm…The Mysterious Affair at Styles…Murder in the Vicarage…The Fall of the House of Usher…The Hound of the Baskervilles…The Dirty Duck…Ellery Queen, Dashiell Hamett, Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, Trixie Belden…It's quite a collection of mysteries, but I think Dad's read most of them, except maybe the Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden books. Girl stuff, y'know?"
"Yeah, they're all mysteries, but what's special about them?"
Steve shrugged. "Most of them are old."
She continued to stare at him.
"How old are they, Liv?"
She smiled and said, "This is one of Meyer Goldstein's little investments. Every one of these books is a pristine first edition, and some are worth several thousand dollars to the right buyer. Some are even signed. Meyer's been working on the collection for twenty years now. Last time we spoke about it, he was missing one Sherlock Holmes, two Nancy Drews, and a Miss Marple, but he had people looking for him."
Steve grinned. "Dad would be in heaven."
"Let's go downstairs."
In the basement, there was a rumpus room with comfortable furniture, a wet bar, dartboard, card table, pool table, and fireplace. A large wooden box in the corner held a variety of sporting equipment as well, and a short stairwell led out to the south side of the house. Across the hall, Olivia led him into a large wine cellar with red, green, and yellow racks. "It's color coded so I know what I can drink," Liv laughed. "The green is drinking wine, the red is off limits because it's strictly for investment, and the yellow…I have to call Meyer before I touch it to find out if the value has gone up." The last room of the house was a huge storage room filled mostly with furniture and decorative items. "I had the whole basement sealed and installed a humidity control system, so it's safe for my antiques."
"So that's the house, huh? It's awesome."
"That's almost the house," Liv corrected. "You haven't seen the best part. The old guy who sealed the basement died a few years ago, so, as far as I know, I'm the only person alive who knows about this. You'll be the second."
"Oh?"
"This house used to be a stop on the Underground Railroad bringing slaves up from the South. Look at this."
She led him to what appeared to be a support pillar in the center of one of the basement walls. She pulled out a fist-sized stone, reached in the hole, and pulled a lever. A whole chunk of the wall opened by pivoting around the pillar.
"Wow!" Steve whispered in amazement.
Liv replaced the stone carefully, took his hand, and pulled him into the darkness. After closing the entrance behind them, she took a flashlight off a nearby shelf and showed him around. A tunnel stretched in two directions.
"That way," she pointed to the right, "goes to the barn. It brings you up into a secret little room. Down there," she pointed left, "Takes you to the well in the garden. There are handholds in the stone you can use to climb out." Sticking the flashlight in her hip pocket, she said, "Give me a boost."
Steve did as he was told, and was surprised to see Liv and the light disappear into the ceiling. Moments later the light shined down in his eyes, and she dropped him a rope.
"Use the rope to climb up to where you can reach the ladder."
He shinnied up the rope, climbed the ladder, and found himself emerging through a trap door into a small closet. She pushed the door open, and he found himself stepping into the utility room off the kitchen. Liv turned around, pulled the rope up and coiled it to the side of the hole and closed the trap door. As he watched, she jumped, caught hold of something, and pulled herself up and out of sight again.
"Follow me," she called, "and shut the door behind you."
This time, when he exited the closet, he found himself in the master bedroom again.
"Damn, Liv," Steve said in amazement, "This is just too cool."
"Language, Steve."
"Oh, sorry, but this is wild."
"One more stop, babe. Close the door."
They went up another floor, and when she opened the closet, they were in a large storage room with a sloping ceiling.
"The attic?" Steve queried.
"Yup. This half is just storage, but there's a two bedroom apartment at the other end. It even has a kitchen, bath, and living room." Leading him through the attic and back to the master bedroom on the second floor, she said, "Please keep this between us, Steve. I know it sounds silly, but until today it was a secret that belonged just to me, and it's kind of fun having something nobody else knows about."
Steve smiled at her and said, "Ok, Liv. It is neat, but if Jesse ever visits, can I use it to scare the daylights out of him?"
Liv smiled, "As long as I get to watch."
She went over to the vanity, put her shoulder holster on, checked her revolver to be sure the safety was on, and placed it in the holster.
Somberly, Steve asked, "Do you think you're going to need that?"
She shrugged. "I hope to God not, but if I do, I don't want to have to go to far to get it."
Steve nodded and got his weapon from the nightstand.
"While we're on the subject, there's a matter I'd like to discuss, Liv."
"Ok."
He took a deep breath, knowing she was going to fight him on this.
"We're not safe here, Liv. This house is too big and too isolated. There are too many ways for Ted to get in and too many places for him to hide. If he cuts the phones, help is a long way off. I think we should find a room in town."
"There aren't any, Steve."
"That's ridiculous, Liv. I know I saw at least one motel."
"Yep, but today's Groundhog Day. You'd be amazed how many people come to see Phil crawl out of his hole. There's no vacancy within thirty miles."
"I see. Then we should stay with some of your friends."
"And bring Ted to them? I don't think so, Steve. You can do what you want, but I'm staying here."
"Liv, I just think…"
"No discussion, Steve. My mind is made up." She walked out of the bedroom, leaving him to argue with the walls.
As she led the way back downstairs, she said, "I thought we'd join Jud and May Stephens for lunch. They took me in after the fire, and they're the closest thing to family I have left around here."
Knowing he would get nowhere with her right now, Steve let it go, for the moment. "They're Keith and Kenney's folks, right?"
"Yeah. Um, Steve?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't be surprised if Keith is…well…not exactly friendly. He and I share quite a lot of history, and…"
"We already met, Liv, the sheriff saw to it. He's the deputy who issued my gun."
"Oh. Why didn't you say anything?"
"I wasn't sure how you'd take it."
Olivia took a seat by the fireplace in the den to make a call while Steve stared out at the snow-covered garden. He felt like a target. There were just too many doors and windows to this place. It was a trap waiting to spring. His mind wrapped itself around and around the problem as he listened in on Olivia's end of the phone conversation.
"Hi, May?"
"Yeah, it's me." Steve heard the smile in her voice.
"My boyfriend and I are in town for a visit, and I was wondering….Could we come over for lunch? I'd really like you to meet him." She sounded strange, almost like she was begging. Was she afraid they'd say no?
"Yeah, Steve told me they met." She was worried.
"Well, now, May, if I know Keith, he still thinks he has reason to hate anyone who comes round here with me. He always was a bad one for holding a grudge." Steve frowned. She was pissed. He heard her take a deep breath, and when she spoke again, she was on the verge of tears.
"Look, May, you and Jud did so much for me after my folks died. I want him to meet you because I can't take him to meet Mama and Daddy. I don't much care what anyone else thinks, but your opinions matter to me."
"I know it's been a long time, May, but the only way I can explain is that it hurt too much to be here." Now she was in tears.
"Don't cry May….I can't help it either….We can? Ok, we'll be there in forty-five minutes….I know, May. I love you, too."
Steve came over to her chair, and when she stood up, he put his arms around her. "You ok?"
"Yep." She sniffed, smiled, wiped her eyes, and said, "Let's go, we have a lunch date."
It was a long drive to the Stephens's place, but the day was nice and clear, and in most places, the roads were in good condition. When Steve commented on the length of the trip, Liv laughed and told him, "That's one thing I never liked about this area. You have to go so far to get anywhere."
The Stephens's house was a pretty, two-story white farmhouse with a white picket fence and a wide front porch. Before Steve and Liv could get out of the jeep, an older couple was running out to meet them. She was medium height and he was at least six feet tall. Both had salt and pepper hair and both wore jeans and flannel shirts. Her hair was back in a neat bun with loose curls floating around her face, and he had a bristly mustache and a receding hairline like his son's. Both were grinning ear-to-ear and laughing out loud.
"Welcome home, Livvie!"
"Girlie, you look good!"
"I made your favorite, tuna casserole."
"Yeah, and she told me I had to wait until you got here."
"Jud, May, let's go in, please. It's freezing out here and I'm starving. This is Steve. Steve, Judson and May Stephens."
May nodded and Judson shook his hand warmly.
"It's nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Stephens."
Jud made an amused sound and told Steve, "I'm Jud, and she's May. That's what you're to call us, understand?"
"Yes, sir…Jud." Steve liked these people already.
As they bundled into the house, May said, "Steve, I understand you met our boys yesterday."
"I hope you don't hold it against the rest of the family," Jud said sarcastically.
"Judson…" May warned.
"May?" Jud responded innocently.
Steve tried to smooth things over as he took off his coat. "Yes, I did, May, and I can assure you, neither of them said or did anything that was inappropriate under the circumstances."
Jud snorted and said, "If you think like they do, you'd say that even if they'd beat your head in."
"Jud!" Both May and Olivia yelled at him.
Jud kept talking as he headed back the hall with their coats.
"As LUCK would have it, NEITHER of them is HOME today, but understand THIS, Steve. If I EVER get wind of EITHER of those KNOTHEADS giving you ANY trouble, I WILL make them REGRET it! I may be an old man, but I am STILL their DADDY, and I can TAN their HIDES any time I WANT!"
May was visibly embarrassed. Olivia was trying not to laugh for May's sake, and Steve didn't know what to think, but he certainly appreciated the show of support he was getting from this complete stranger.
"Thanks, I think, Jud. But wouldn't you rather get to know me before you take a stand like that?"
Jud grinned and said, "Kent Hargrove called me yesterday. I knew all I needed to know about you before you finished your breakfast. Irene Branch filled me in over lunch, and Sheriff Daniels caught up with me at the ball game last night. Everybody I trust to have good judgment says you're ok, and that's good enough for me."
Steve couldn't help but grin back. "Well, I do appreciate that, Jud. Thanks again."
"It's nothing son, and just so you know, my boys will come around. They both love Livvie, and as long as you're good to her, they'll come around."
Steve nodded, "I hope so."
"Good," Jud said, "Now that we've cleared the air about that, LET'S EAT."
May was an excellent cook. When Steve complimented her and asked if she had taught Liv, May laughed and told him, "Oh, I can cook all right, but Livvie taught me how to make this dish. It was her mama's recipe."
Liv nodded and said, "That's right, and every year for my birthday, Mama used to make this and that chocolate cake we had at your welcome home party."
"Actually," May said, slightly embarrassed, "Most of my family's favorite dishes are recipes I got from Livvie."
She turned bright red when Jud leaned over, kissed her on the cheek, and said, "It don't matter where the recipes came from, woman, it's love that makes them good."
Steve smiled to see the older couple flirt, and for a moment, it made his heart ache as he thought his parents would still act that way if his mom had lived. He looked at Liv. She wore a soft, sad smile, and he knew in that moment that her thoughts were traveling along similar lines.
As they ate and chatted, Steve learned more about Olivia's childhood and youth than he ever expected to know. He didn't say much, but he enjoyed hearing Liv and her foster parents reminiscing. Most of the stories were funny and highly embarrassing to Liv, but others were touching and poignant. One he especially liked was about when Olivia learned about drunk driving statistics in the county. She had gotten Cloud Nine to help her establish a free transportation service for people who had had too much to drink. She had hired a dispatcher and gotten a number of adults to volunteer as well. She installed a CB in every car, and when a call came in, depending on the age of the callers one of the Cloud Nine girls or an adult volunteer picked up the person and took them home. She paid mileage for the drivers out of her inheritance. Olivia also started tracking the number of calls made by certain individuals and got them into alcoholism treatment programs.
"For fifteen years now, our DUI and alcoholism statistics have been among the lowest in the state," Jud said proudly.
Steve looked at Liv and said, "You've always had a strong sense of social responsibility, haven't you."
Liv shrugged and said, "Mama and Daddy brought me up that way, and Jud and May finished the job. Making the world better for others makes it better for me, too."
As they moved into the living room, Jud chuckled and said, "Sometimes she got a little carried away with her 'social responsibility,' though. High school football will never be the same."
"Jud," Liv threatened, "Don't you dare."
"Oh, now Livvie, at the time you wanted people to know."
"What happened?" Steve asked.
"At the time, I was thirteen years old, now I'm old enough to be ashamed and embarrassed."
May laughed, "All the more reason for him to tell it, hon."
Olivia groaned and hid her face, knowing she was going to have to suffer through yet another embarrassing story.
Jud looked at May and said, "Help me out, Mother. That would have been Livvie's first year as a varsity cheerleader, right?"
Liv moaned, "You know very well it was."
"This is a great story, son," Jud said in a conspiratorial tone as he leaned toward Steve.
A local printing firm had donated football programs for all the home games, and the cheerleaders sold them for seventy-five cents a piece before the game and at half time.
"It didn't matter what the weather, we were always there an hour early, and we never got a break for hot chocolate or anything during halftime. At least the players got to go into a heated field house."
"Yeah, whatever, Livvie." Judson continued with the story.
Liv, being ever the curious one, decided to find out where the money went. It took a couple of weeks, but she eventually found that it all went into the football team's account. She was deeply offended and decided to take action. She started with the cheerleading coach who told her it had always been that way, and the coach knew it was unfair, but she had tried and failed to change things.
"That was like a red cape to a bull, son. Livvie dug in and made up her mind that she was going to change things or die trying."
"You encouraged me, Jud."
"That was before I knew what you were about to get into," he grinned.
"I did nothing wrong."
"At least nothing that could be proven."
She went to the head football coach next and when he gave her the brush off, every helmet in the field house was full of horse manure when the players arrived for the next game. On the door was a note saying, "We demand fair treatment. Give the cheerleaders a fair cut or sell your own programs." Olivia had been at the diner until time for the cheerleaders to report. Casey and Irene confirmed it.
"At least it was horse turds and not gutter slop from the cows," Olivia protested.
Of course, nobody knew who had done it, but Liv was the prime suspect. The next week was an away game, and Olivia took advantage of the intervening time to press her cause. She prepared a well-researched, reasonable argument in support of giving the cheerleaders two thirds of the funds raised from the program sales. She gave the football coach and the principal each a copy, and when she again received a negative response, the players' jock straps got soaked in liniment just in time for the next home game.
Steve cringed at that. He'd been a victim of the same practical joke as a JV player in junior high.
"And would you believe it was their biggest win of the year? Forty-nine to nothing," Jud said.
"Yeah, and the coach tried to talk the team into doing it again for the next game. Superstition, you know."
This time Olivia had been working as a receptionist at the county old folks home as part of a church service project, and she had her time sheet to prove it. "A certain amount of Christian service was required for our confirmation, and we had to have the sheets signed."
She went to the superintendent with the same argument, this time demanding seventy-five percent of the money. He said no and explained that a child, especially a girl, could not be reasonably expected to have any comprehension of the issues involved.
"I told him I understood the issues better than he did: chauvinism, greed, and condescension."
This time every one of the game balls blew apart on the kick-off. They had to send someone to a sporting good store to buy a new one. The next day, the coach found an envelope full of cash on his desk and a note saying, "Sorry about the expense. Give the cheerleaders a fair cut and maybe we'll tell you how we did it."
Liv grinned, "Razor blades. Don't slice through the stitches, shave across them….Or so I've heard."
Finally, she got a hearing before the school board. They kicked the matter back to the principal, who refused to do anything about it. Then *really* bad things started happening. Monday at practice, the tackling dummies all fell apart on the first hit due to loose hardware. When it rained on Tuesday, the words, "Fair treatment for the cheerleaders, give them a fair cut," bubbled up in the end zone where someone had written the words with laundry detergent. Somebody cut off the water heater at the field house on Wednesday, and none of the players got a hot shower after practice. On Thursday, all the sports drink was laced with salt and hot sauce. On Friday morning, the principal came in to find that the press box had been torn down and reassembled in the main lobby of the school. Nailed to the door was a note saying, "If it's this bad already, just wait until homecoming. Give the cheerleaders a fair cut."
Liv always had an alibi.
"I can't believe they didn't put a guard on the stadium," Steve laughed.
"They did," Jud said. "That's why no one could ever figure out how she got away with it."
"Jud," Olivia protested, "I never 'got away with' anything. Do you really think I could have faked waiting tables at the diner or moved the press box across campus myself."
"Yeah, Livvie, I know, but only you had the creative mind to come up with such stunts, and you had a lot of kids who liked you enough to get into some mischief for you."
Olivia was sent home that day before she even got to her locker and told not to return without Jud. The principal gave Keith permission to drive her home.
"The first thing she did was call her lawyer, Harold Pendergast," May said. "Then she changed into the navy-blue business suit she wore to the old folks home, put her hair up, and dug out her high heels. It made her look ten years older, at least. She made Jud wear a suit, too, and she put copies of all the letters she'd written and responses she'd received about the matter in this nice leather portfolio she used for taking notes in school. She got her tape recorder, put in new batteries, and found a blank tape in Kenney's room."
"On the way back to school, we had a long talk." Jud took over. "She reminded me that when it all started I had told her she should stand up for what she thought was right, and she asked me if I agreed that the cheerleaders should get a percentage of the take on the programs."
"And you did," Olivia put in.
"Yes, I did." Jud agreed, "and when she asked if I thought she had followed proper channels, I said she had. Then she asked if I would support her if she forced this thing to its inevitable conclusion."
Olivia got up and kissed the old man on the cheek. "And you said yes."
"I said yes, even though the words 'inevitable conclusion' scared the beans out of me."
Steve could barely contain himself, "I can just imagine what she did next."
"Oh, no, son, you can't begin to imagine," Jud swore. "We met Harold outside the school, and Olivia told us both, 'I know exactly what I'm going to say and do. Just roll with it, and everything will be cool.'"
Jud was truly warming to his story now.
"Harold and I just looked at each other and shrugged. We went to the receptionist, and she soon showed us into the principal's private office. There were none of the usual formalities this time, let me tell you. Livvie thumped that tape recorder down on the desk, hit record, and said, 'Mr. White, let me make this perfectly clear. This meeting isn't happening unless I can record it. Any objections?'
"Jack 'The Ass' White," May and Olivia both cringed at the name-calling, "was looking forward to it. He didn't know he had Olivia right where SHE wanted HIM.
"'I have no objections at all, Miss Regis,' he said, 'I have nothing to hide. Why do you feel you need a lawyer?' The fool had no idea what he was dealing with," Jud said proudly. "At the time, though, neither did I."
"Livvie looked at White and said, 'You might be glad he's here before it's all said and done. The temptation to do something foolhardy is strong when tempers run hot. He might prevent you from taking actions that could cost you your job.'"
"Wait a minute," Steve interrupted, "You're a heartbeat away from expulsion, and you go in there and threaten the man's job? Liv, that's insane!"
"Yep."
Steve gave her a measuring look and said, "And typical, I'll bet."
Liv grinned, "Yep."
Steve turned back to Jud and asked, "What happened?"
Jud laughed, "She let White think it was his meeting. He asked her a bunch of questions about the various incidents at the football field and she gave him the same answer every time."
"What?" Steve asked, "That she had an alibi?"
Jud shook his head and laughed harder, "Ohhh, no. Nothing that easy, but you have to hear her say it. How'd it go, Livvie?"
Olivia folded her hands in her lap, sat up straight, put on a purely innocent face, and said, "Under the rights granted to me by the Fifth Amendment to the Constitution of the United States, I respectfully refuse to answer that question on the grounds that it might incriminate me, sir."
By this point, the foursome was laughing uncontrollably.
"You took the Fifth," Steve said, nearly hysterical. "He was going to expel you, and you took the Fifth!"
Jud wiped tears of laughter from his eyes and said, "She did that for an hour and a half, and the funniest part was, the pause before 'sir' got a little longer every time. She made it sound like an afterthought. Pissed White off beyond belief. Several times, she actually interrupted him with it because he started his next question before she 'remembered.' He got so frustrated I thought he was going to stroke out on us. I have never seen a man get that angry without hitting *something*. And our Livvie just sat there cool and collected and sweet and innocent and respectful as could be."
Steve laughed some more. "Now I've seen her do that before. Drives people nuts."
"Oh, yeah," Jud agreed. "Well, White had simply had it. He was through. He told her, 'Miss Regis, you are suspended until further notice. Clean out your locker and go home. You are hereby prohibited from attending any school events or entering any school property until I choose to lift your suspension. That won't be any time soon.'
"Liv looked at him, still the picture of composure and innocence, and asked, 'On what grounds….sir?'"
"White just exploded. 'Grounds? Who says I need grounds? You have been a wicked little creature since you came here! You are an INSTIGATOR and a TROUBLEMAKER! I don't NEED PROOF to know that YOU are responsible for what's been happening at the football field! I am TIRED of you causing trouble in MY SCHOOL! If you were MY CHILD, I would BEAT you within an INCH of your LIFE! You are SUSPENDED for the FULL YEAR! Next year, the first time you SNEEZE, I will PUT YOU OUT for disrupting school. You will NEVER graduate from THIS SCHOOL as long as I LIVE because I LOATH you, you EVIL LITTLE PERSON!' He was stamping his foot and shaking his fists and turning red. His eyes were a-bulging and his veins were a-popping out on his neck and at his temples.
"And when he finished Livvie leaned forward and said quietly, 'Let the record reflect that Mr. White has threatened me with physical abuse.'"
The group dissolved in hysterics again for a while. Finally, Steve choked out a, "Then what?" Olivia finished the story herself.
"I shut off the cassette recorder, and told him, 'Thank you Mr. White, I've got what I need now.' He just stood there panting while I explained. 'You do not have the authority to suspend me for the year. You do not have the authority to suspend me at all under the circumstances. I think out loud, make a suggestion, and something happens. I can't help it that other people take my random thoughts seriously. You can't prove that I did a thing. You will lift my suspension and give the cheerleaders eighty percent of the proceeds from the programs and ten percent from the concession stand, and when I leave this office, I will tell everyone that you were reasonable and understanding and that we easily reached a mutually agreeable solution.'
"'Or what?' he asked.
"'Or, you will suspend me, and I will drag you and the school through the courts from here to doomsday.'
"'It'll never happen,' he said.
"'Actually, it will,' Harold broke in, and started citing case law and appellate court decisions.
"When Harold was finished, I told Mr. White, 'You will suffer through two trials, one in the courthouse, and one in the press. I have more money in the bank right now than the school district takes in for the year.' I didn't know if it was true or not, but then, neither did he. 'I can hire more lawyers and buy more ink at the paper and more airtime on radio and TV than the school could ever hope to. I will cost them so much money over your rash decision that you will be lucky if they recommend you for the night custodian at a K-9 obedience school.'"
Steve just shook his head, "My God, Liv. You're incredible."
She smiled. "He agreed. Harold drew up some documents on the spot, and after he signed them agreeing to give us eighty percent of the program money and ten percent of the concession money he said, 'When this started, you said you only wanted fifty cents for each program.'
"'Yep.'
"'Why so much more now?'
"I'm not proud of what I said," Liv admitted.
Jud laughed, "I sure was. He deserved it."
"What'd you say, Liv?"
"I told him, 'I want eighty percent for the programs to make up for what we didn't get in years past, and ten percent of the concession…because I can get whatever I want.'"
"Mr. White retired the following year," May said.
Steve laughed a little, "Oh my God, Liv. That is just too good. I guess it really was practice for what I saw at the sheriff's office yesterday, wasn't it?"
"It's not funny, Steve. It…It was petty and childish…and…and everything I hated about rich people when I was growing up poor. It was shameful."
"But, Liv, you had good cause," Steve insisted. "The man was a jerk! He had it coming."
"There is never 'good cause' for being mean-spirited, Steve," Olivia declared.
"Maybe not," Steve agreed reluctantly, "but I bet it felt good."
Liv flashed a small grin and said, "Yeah."
May said, "I think you paid for anything you might have done wrong when you got home that afternoon."
"May," live said in warning.
"I mean it, Livvie. She tells that story like it's a joke, but she never tells is how she cried herself sick when she got home. She took a stand all right, and she accomplished what she wanted, but all the yelling and threats had terrified her."
Steve squeezed Liv's hand and said, "I was wondering about that, Liv. I know you don't like to be yelled at."
She shrugged and said, "It's all in the past. I prefer to remember the good bits and let the rest fade into the mists of a selective memory."
They chatted a little longer about this and that, and Steve told Jud about the scene at the sheriff's office the previous day. "Odd how Rick never mentioned it when we talked last night," Jud commented. Steve and Liv related the story about Mark and Jesse "practicing" yoga and how Liv turned their foolishness into a joke on them. Jud laughed and told Liv, "The only thing Jackass White had right about you was that you are a wicked little creature, Livvie."
She gave him an impish smile and said, "But my friends love me in spite of myself." She gave Jud another peck on the cheek.
Before they knew it, it was after three. Liv got up and said, "Jud, May, it's been absolutely wonderful seeing you again, and I promise Steve and I will be back again before we leave, but it's getting late in the day, and I wanted to take Steve by the old homestead before we go back to my house."
"It's been a while since you've been by there, hasn't it?"
Liv nodded. "Twenty three years, May. It'll be twenty-four in June. Except for the memorial service I haven't been back since the fire."
The phone rang and May went to answer it as Jud asked, "Are you sure you can do it, Livvie? I remember what it was like for you when you came back from Europe, and you never even got up the drive."
Liv moved close to Steve and took his hand. "That was twelve years ago. Lately, Jud, I feel like there's nothing I can't do, but I figured we'd come in the back way, behind the barn, and see how it goes. Just in case."
Jud agreed. "Sounds like a plan."
"Livvie," May called from the kitchen. "It's someone named Mark, and he wants to talk to you and Steve. He sounds frantic."
"Oh, my God, Steve! We forgot to call your dad." Liv sprinted for the kitchen with Steve barely a step behind. She grabbed the phone and said, "Hello, Mark…Yeah, we're both fine…How'd you find me here?…Oh, Meyer knows just about everything. I'm not surprised…Yes, he's out, but Steve and I have discussed it to death. I'm staying, and he's decided to stay, with me…Who called you about it?…WHICH Deputy Stephens?" She gave an exasperated huff, "Deputy K. Stephens, huh? Very cute."
Jud muttered, "I'll kill 'em both, so help me God."
"…Look, Mark, Steve and I are taking reasonable precautions. We'll be ok….He's right here. Ok, I'll put him on in just a second."
She covered the mouthpiece and told Steve, "Deputy K. Stephens called your dad and told him Ted was out of prison. Said CG was the last known address he had on me, so he was trying to contact me through my employer. He told your dad to let me know that anyone close to me was in as much danger as I was. Your dad told him I had come back for a visit, and that he could probably reach me at my house."
Just then, a police cruiser pulled up the drive and Jud rushed out of the house. Liv shoved the phone into Steve's hand and said, "You calm your dad down, and I'll keep Jud from killing boys."
"Hello, Dad, sorry we forgot to call."
"Son, I want you to come home now and bring Liv with you," Mark's voice was stern, but Steve could hear the worry.
He answered as he watched Liv step between Jud and the boys, and he wondered if Jud really intended to beat his sons.
"Dad, I can't force her to come back to LA, and I won't leave her here alone. We'll be ok," Steve assured him. "She got the sheriff to contact Captain Newman, and I've been loaned to the sheriff's department to protect her. They've issued me a gun, and would you believe Liv has a permit to carry?"
"Yeah, didn't she tell you? While you were in the hospital, she got Captain Newman to help her out with that."
Steve's eyebrows shot up in surprise, "No kidding."
"Yeah," Mark said, "That girl could sweet talk a hungry tiger out of a steak."
Steve could hear the humor in his father's voice and judged him sufficiently calmed down. Out the window, he could see that Liv had things well under control with Jud and the boys. He wanted to know what was being said, so he decided to end the call.
"Look, Dad, Liv and I are going to be fine, but I know she has plans for this afternoon. I'll call you tonight, around eight your time, ok?"
He heard a sigh, and Mark said, "Ok, son. I feel better now that I've heard your voice. You be careful."
"I will, Dad."
"I love you, son."
"Love you, too, Dad, and hey, remind me to tell you about Liv's first year cheerleading when I call tonight."
Mark chuckled, "Ok, talk to you later, son."
"Bye, Dad."
When Steve got out to the car, Jud was telling his boys, "You two better get to him before I do, or I'll be in his cell, and there won't be enough of him left to put in a pine box."
Steve slipped his arms around Liv, and said, "What's going on, babe?"
She stepped away from him and said, "Keith and Kenney didn't call your dad, Steve, but they found out that Ted had an article stashed in his cell all about my moving to LA and going to work at Community General. It was something the board had published, kind of like bragging rights, I guess, since I chose them over Cedars Sinai and UCSF. There was also an article about your shooting, a small piece in the police blotter section, but it named the hospital and me."
Steve was apprehensive. "Do you think he'd go after my dad, Amanda, and Jesse?"
Keith answered him. "No way. He's got this love obsession with O. He'll kill you and me and anyone else who gets in the way to get to her, but once he's got her, he's harmless."
Steve looked at Liv, and she nodded. "Maybe you should go home, Steve."
"Not a chance, Liv."
"I want you safe."
"I'll be ok. I've been through this kind of thing before."
"Um, ok. Uh…look, I really want to go by…home…before I go back to my house. Watch your back, Keith."
The deputy nodded. "I will." Looking at Steve, he said, "Take care of her."
"She'll be safe with me."
With that, Liv and Steve got in the jeep and left.
On the way to her childhood home, Liv asked tentatively, "Would you mind being a little…less affectionate…around Keith? The last time he saw me was the day he canceled the wedding. I think he might need some time to…adjust…to the idea of you and me being a couple."
"I can do that, Liv, but are you sure it's not you who needs the time?"
He saw anger flash in her eyes, "What do you mean by that?"
"Easy, babe. I just meant that the last time you saw him was also when he canceled the wedding. It can't be easy for you either. I can understand if you find it awkward. Take as long as you need, I don't mind."
She sighed and said, "I guess you're right. I was trying to pretend it's no big deal, but I guess it wasn't working."
"Not very well, anyhow."
She pulled the jeep to a stop beside a barn on the edge of a clearing and said, "Here we are."
"There's nothing here, Liv."
"Only to the untutored eye, Steve." She got out of the jeep and went to root around in the back. Eventually, she pulled out a telescope, which she set up and focused. She waved him over and said, "Look. That's where we used to play baseball. The spruce was first base, the dogwood was second, and the maple tree was third. Home was just a bald spot in the yard."
Steve looked, and said, "Hey, it's almost a perfect infield, isn't it?"
"Uh-huh, here, let me show you something else."
He moved out of the way and she adjusted the telescope again. When he looked back through it, he saw a tree. "Once I read a poem about a boy who liked to climb birch trees. He'd go all the way up to the tippy-top branches and then swing out on the limbs and let the trees set him back on the ground. I liked it so much I tried it once. Daddy caught me."
Steve laughed. "What did he do?"
"Grounded me for a week."
"He was probably afraid you'd break your neck."
He stepped back to smile at her, and she jumped to the telescope and refocused it again. As he looked through, she said, "That's where Pauly set the dog on my bunny. If you look closely, you can see the remains of the doghouse."
Again and again, she showed him things through the telescope that he'd heard about from her childhood. He was freezing, and wanted to get this over with, but he knew she really had to work her way up to it. Finally, she focused on the charred foundation of a house.
"Eight of us lived there," she whispered. "Three boys in each bedroom, Mama and Daddy in the master bedroom, and Beth and me in a room Daddy partitioned off from the living room. It was a foot wider and three feet longer than our bunk bed."
As he looked through the eyepiece, she said simply, "I need to go down there, Steve."
"Do you want me to come?"
"If you want."
"I want to be there for you, Liv."
"Ok."
She started walking. It was only fifty yards across a snowy field of corn stubble, but she dragged her feet, so it seemed much further. Finally, they stopped a few feet from the edge of the foundation. She stood very still, and Steve slipped his arms around her. This time she did not walk away.
"I was twelve years old, Steve. I'd gotten a job delivering newspapers, and I had saved enough money to buy something for Mother's Day and Father's Day, and to pay for 4-H camp. I used to go on what they called, 'scholarship.' It meant I gave up a game or swimming period every day to help in the mess hall so I didn't have to pay. I was so proud of myself because for the first time, I would be just like the rest of the kids and I didn't have to scrape trays and sweep floors."
Steve squeezed a little tighter and she leaned against him.
"I'd made Mama a flower pot and Daddy a little leather key chain. They had a fly-tying workshop, and I'd made one for each of the boys. I had a bracelet for Beth. It felt so good to be bringing presents home for once. I finally had something to give them."
She started to shake slightly.
"Let's go, Liv. It's cold out here."
She didn't budge. He wasn't sure she heard him.
"Nobody came to pick me up at the Grange Hall when we came back, and I thought they'd forgotten me. I was angry and hurt, but one of the county extension agents gave me a ride home. He dropped me off at the end of the lane where we came in, and I walked to the house. The firemen were looking for my body when I came around the corner of the barn. No one at the scene knew I had gone to camp."
"My God, Liv. You just walked up on it? All alone?"
She turned and pointed back to the jeep. "I came running right down through here. The leaves of the corn plants cut up my arms and legs, but I never noticed. One of the firemen caught me before I got to the…ruins, but I screamed and fought and kicked and bit until I finally got loose."
She slipped from Steve's embrace. "I ran into the debris, right here."
She moved to a corner of the foundation, and walked into the ruins. "I guess I was looking for my family. My shoes started to melt in one of the hotspots. I screamed myself hoarse, calling for them like I thought they could hear me. Maybe I thought they were hiding. I don't know."
She turned to face north. Steve could see that her eyes were closed. She was reliving events. Pointing to a place in her mind, she said, "The moving van was right there. Then I saw the body bags. My whole world narrowed down to one…two…three…four…five…six…seven…eight…black plastic body bags." She pointed at each one in her mind as she counted them in a trembling voice. "They were arranged in order of size. Benny was first. He was bigger than Daddy. Then Pauly and Andy. Then John-John, for some reason he was the only one of the guys with short genes. He was a good five, maybe six inches shorter than Andy even though Andy was eleven years younger. After John-John came Mama, then Beth. The last one was for me. I looked at a fireman and asked, 'Am I dead?' He said, 'No.' And I screamed."
She sank down to her knees in the snow and the rubble.
"Liv…"
She didn't hear him.
"I don't know…what I screamed," her voice took on a desperate tone and she began talking rapidly, "but I screamed and screamed and screamed until I was coughing up blood, and I ran from one body bag to another, back and forth and back and forth trying to get the courage to open one and look at my family and see that it was real and…and"
She broke into sobs.
"Liv…"
"…and I finally opened the empty one and tried to crawl in it."
She ran trembling hands over her face and through her hair. Then she wrapped her arms around herself and started to rock back and forth on her knees. Tears were streaming down her face.
She was panting for breath as she continued. "We were going to move into the house Mr. Bradley had left us the next day. They were waiting for me to get home from camp. I insisted on being there to say goodbye to our old house. It was my fault."
"No, Liv, it just happened. You didn't cause it," Steve said softly.
She nodded, and Steve hoped she was agreeing. After all, she had said it had taken her years to realize it wasn't her fault. He hoped this visit wasn't changing her mind about it. He couldn't imagine what that kind of guilt must have been like for a twelve-year-old child, and he didn't want her reliving it now.
"I had never in my life wanted anything more than to be dead at that moment. The firemen kept trying to pull me out, but I'd fight loose and try to get into the body bag again. I kept screaming, 'Take me, too, God. Take me now.'"
Steve walked over to her, knelt behind her, and rocked with her, gently shushing her as she babbled on at a frantic pace.
"I ran back to where my bedroom used to be and rolled in the ashes and muck and made myself black all over, and I told the firemen, 'See, I burned up, too,' and I tried to crawl back in the body bag, and I kept insisting I was dead. I could smell burnt flesh and burnt plastic and the body bags had a smell of their own, and everything was soggy and it stank and I'll never forget the smell of those black plastic body bags. My eyes burned and hurt because of the ashes in them and I tasted blood and I started throwing up and…"
She fell silent and became deathly still for several moments, and then she started to wail. It was a wild, high-pitched animal sound that made Steve's insides shake and the hair on the back of his arms stand up. He didn't know what to do, and he was afraid she was having a breakdown right there in his arms.
"OH, GOD, STEVE! GET ME AWAY FROM HERE NOW!"
Without a moment's hesitation, he scooped her up in his arms and started to run with her to the jeep, glad that she knew she was with him. He wasn't sure, but he thought it was a good sign that she was still in the present. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and sobbed hysterically. At the jeep, he sat on the hood and rocked her gently in his lap, telling her it was all right and he loved her.
Little by very little, she calmed down; and, with her face still buried in his the crook of his neck, she finished her story.
"They finally sedated me, and I woke up days later in a straight jacket. At first, my eyes were bandaged to let them heal from the damage the ashes had done. My throat was so sore from screaming it still hurt to breathe, and I had a lot of cuts and burns. I didn't know why I was there. I didn't remember. I kept asking for Mama and Daddy. When the psychiatrist told me what had happened I denied it. I screamed and hollered and cussed and cried and tried to escape for days. Then one day, when I was trying to sneak out of the hospital, I hid from security in the morgue. The smell of the body bags brought it all back. They eventually found me sitting on the floor under an autopsy table. I stopped talking for almost a month. Ostensibly, I was in the hospital for my physical injuries, but everyone who knew me knew I'd lost my mind. The grief and…guilt and the…aloneness…were overwhelming."
"I can't begin to imagine, sweetheart," Steve said as he rubbed her back.
She slipped off his lap and started to walk back toward the ruins. He caught her by the sleeve. "Liv, are you sure you want to go back down there?"
She nodded mechanically and kept going. She walked past the ruins and down over the bank to a small stream. Seven weeping willows grew by the stream.
"I missed their funerals. Jud and May took care of all of that." She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "I know…they were…all burned up, but I still wish I could have seen them once more. I think it would have been easier to go on if I had just SEEN them. It would have made it all real. That July would have been Mama and Daddy's thirtieth anniversary. We held a memorial service that day and I planted these trees. At the time, I chose weeping willows because I thought they were pretty and they love water, but now, I like to think they cry all the time in my place so I can do other things with my life."
Steve wrapped his arms around her again. "They are beautiful."
She slipped away. He watched as she walked back and forth under the trees for several minutes. She touched every one of them, brushing the ends of the overhanging branches, laying her cheek against the bark, wrapping an arm around the trunk. She seemed to be drawing strength from them. Finally, she bowed her head and seemed to utter a brief prayer.
It was almost dark when she came to him and said with a sigh, "I'm ok now. I can't let it go, but I can put it behind me. I'll drive a stake to mark my path and forge ahead from here. It's a landmark, not a dead end, Steve, and I'm ready to go on, with you."
He slipped an arm around her shoulders, and she put hers around his waist. They walked back to the jeep in silence, and after a lingering hug and a kiss, they climbed in and drove off.
Neither of them noticed the tall shadowy figure lurking in the dark shadows inside the barn.
Steve woke and stretched, and all of his nerves screamed in pain. For a moment, he couldn't breathe and he thought he was going to be sick. His muscles were so stiff and sore he thought he had been beaten, but he couldn't recall when, where, why, or by whom. It was dark, and he had the sense of being in an enclosed space, but he couldn't remember where he was. Finally, he was able to draw breath, and the mingled scents of lavender, wood smoke, and a pleasant mustiness reminded him that he was in Olivia's house in Pennsylvania. Thus reassured, he began to take stock of his situation.
Where was Olivia?
He started to sit up, but the intense pain of unbelievably sore muscles kept him down. He moaned, and called out, "Liv?"
The canopy drapes parted, and he saw an elegant bedroom furnished in Victorian style. Everything was bathed in golden light from the fireplace. Olivia sat on the bed beside him and brushed the hair from his face.
"What is it, babe?"
"I hurt…everywhere." A weird thread of panic began to tickle in his chest, and he struggled to keep it from his voice. "Why do I hurt so bad, Liv?"
"Easy, babe. It's ok," she said in a singsong voice that proved he had not been entirely successful in hiding his fears. "I kind of expected this." She continued stroking his forehead. "I think it's just the stress of the flight, the cold that you're not used to, waiting tables, and all that mess at the sheriff's office yesterday. You were busier and under more stress than you have been for a while."
"I think need a Darvocet, Liv. I haven't hurt this bad since physical therapy."
"I want to try something else, first, sweetie. If it doesn't work, I'll give you some Advil, but I'd rather you not take a narcotic if we can avoid it, ok? With the cold weather and Ted being loose, you might have quite a few stressful days while we're here, and you don't want the oxycodone to dull your wits."
"Whatever. It doesn't hurt so bad if I stay still."
"Ok," she smiled, "You just relax a little while. I'm going to turn up the electric blanket, warm up the room, fix you some breakfast, and give you a massage."
Steve closed his eyes. "Ok, but you don't have to do this, you know."
"I know. I want to."
She tucked the electric blanket under his chin and turned the dial to high, then pulled the quilt all the way over it to hold in the heat. She tied back the curtains on the bed, and stoked the fire in the fireplace. Steve was admiring the silhouette through her nightgown when a thought occurred to him.
"Liv, you've got to be freezing."
She giggled and said, "Not really. As long as I'm wearing my slippers, I'm ok."
"Crazy mountain people," Steve muttered mostly to himself. "Don't even have sense enough to keep warm."
"Actually, we do have sense enough, but we woodland types also have hardier constitutions and a greater tolerance for extremes than you delicate creatures of the sun, surf, and sand." She shot him a naughty look and he rolled his eyes.
She giggled and said, "I'll be back with your breakfast in a few minutes."
For a while, Steve was content to doze under the warm electric blanket. He was amazed at his luck in finding a girl like Liv. 'No,' he corrected, 'she's a woman. She may be childlike and mischievous, but she's no girl. She's one hell of a woman.'
While he waited for his breakfast, he surveyed the room. It was vast, and richly furnished with all walnut furniture; but it was not over-full. The four-poster bed with its ample curtains would have filled his bedroom at home. There were matching bedside tables, each holding the odd assortment of knick-knacks and a tiffany-style lamp, and in the near corner was a chaise with a small table holding a dried flower arrangement. The fireplace was a large marble affair flanked by two wing chairs with a low table between them. When he saw the bear rug on the floor in front of the fireplace, Steve had to grin. It was the only thing that did not belong, and it was a testament to Liv's quirky personality. She probably kept it because it was "cool."
At the foot of the bed sat a small chair, and against the opposite wall was a tall armoire. A marble-topped washstand with an ornate porcelain basin and pitcher sat in the corner nearest the foot of the bed, and a marble topped dresser sat against the wall to his right. In the far corner was a vanity strewn with an assortment of odds-and-ends, including a silver grooming set and an ornately carved jewelry box. The four windows and two sets of French doors were covered with sheer lace curtains behind green, gold, and burgundy floral drapes. There were candles on the mantle, the tables, the vanity, the dresser, and the washstand. In his mind's eye, he could see what a romantic atmosphere he could create some evening during this visit.
The chaise, the vanity chair, and the chair at the foot of the bed repeated the pattern of the drapes, as did the rug covering most of the hardwood floor. The chairs by the fireplace were covered in burgundy velvet. The walls were paneled up to the chair rail with an attractive floral wallpaper the rest of the way up. Crown molding covered the seam between wall and ceiling, and its pattern was echoed in the base from which the chandelier hung.
As he thought about it, Steve suddenly realized how huge the house must be. Last night, he'd seen at least half a dozen other doors on the hall, and he counted five doors in this bedroom. He wondered what was down stairs. In spite of what Kenney had said yesterday, the house didn't seem to be all that drafty, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized it was a bad place to be if some lunatic was stalking them. It was just too big and had too many places to hide. He'd have to discuss matters with Olivia soon, but he knew he would not rest easy in this house as long as Ted was loose.
Steve turned his head and looked at the nightstand, reassured to see that the county-issued .38 caliber revolver was still there. It wasn't his own 9 mm, but it would do. Suddenly his stomach growled audibly as the smell of breakfast drifted into the room.
He thought to go downstairs and save Olivia a trip, but when he tried to get up, his lower back and legs screamed at him again. The pain wasn't as mind-blowing as before, but it still made his breath catch in his chest. Olivia came in as he was easing himself back down to the mattress.
"Hey, I told you to relax. If you don't listen to me, I will make you wish you had."
"I already do," he grunted.
"Serves you right. Let me help."
She put the tray on the dresser for a moment, and arranged a mountain of pillows against the headboard.
"Brace yourself."
He gritted his teeth and nodded. She slipped an arm under his shoulders and slowly lifted. He marveled again at her strength, as he wasn't being much help. She helped him sit upright and settle against the pillows. It was good that he was still in bed; he felt a bit shaky from the pain.
Then she sat the tray across his lap, "Huevos rancheros, toast, and oj." With a wicked grin she added, "I was kind of hungry, too, so I made enough for both of us. There was only room for one plate on the tray, though. I figured we could split it."
For a moment her humor was lost on him, then he remembered that first morning. He couldn't fend off the blush he felt heating his cheeks, but he gamely used his knife to split the eggs down the middle and asked, "Which half do you want?"
They ate in silence for some time before Steve realized his gaze was resting on Olivia's little .38 snub-nosed revolver in its holster hanging from the chair at the vanity. A look must have crossed his face, because Olivia said, "Go ahead, ask."
He sighed in frustration. "You're worse than my dad, you know? I didn't even realize yet that I had anything to ask."
"But you do, so ask it."
"Well, you're pretty good at self-defense, Liv. You had me cold that first day, decked me twice at your house before Christmas, and handled the sheriff easily yesterday."
"Yeah, so?"
"So why do you need to carry a gun?"
She thought a moment before answering. "Because Ted will, if he gets the chance. Even if he doesn't, I'm five-three and weigh less than 110 pounds. He's six-seven and weighed 250 when he was skinny. He and Keith taught me most of my moves, too, so I'd never be able to surprise him. I need to stop him before he gets close enough to touch me, or I don't stand a chance."
Steve digested what she told him, then said, "But you fought him off once before."
"After he'd been shot in the head."
Steve nodded, and asked carefully, "Could you kill him if you had to?"
She was quiet so long he thought she might refuse to answer. Finally, she said, "Not for me, not in self-defense. If he were hurting someone else, I might, but I don't know."
Steve thought she looked totally lost and alone.
He took her delicate hands in his and kissed them. "Promise me that if I can't help you, you'll do what you must to stop him?"
"I'll do what I can, Steve."
"Do whatever it takes, Liv. Promise."
She shook her head. "I can't make that promise. I won't."
"Liv," he said seriously.
"Steve, no. I can defend myself. I will defend myself, but I'm not sure I can kill a man. I won't promise anything that includes that possibility."
"Then if it comes to that I'll have to make sure I'm there to do it," he said in a challenging tone.
Surprisingly, she acquiesced. "Suit yourself." She handed him his orange juice and said, "Drink this and finish your breakfast, then I'm going to give you that massage. In half an hour, I want to get you in the hot tub. We'll loosen up those muscles and see how you feel."
Knowing enough to let the matter lie, he did as he was told.
As it turned out, the massage relaxed him sufficiently that he did not need to soak in the hot tub. After a quick shower and a couple of Advil, he felt ready to face the day.
He came out of the bathroom toweling his hair and saying, "Liv, that tub is big enough to swim laps!"
She laughed, and told him, "Actually, babe, that's what the pool is for."
His eyebrows shot up and she threw his jeans at him saying, "Get your clothes on, and I'll give you the tour."
They started at the French doors to the right of the bed. These opened onto a balcony that overlooked a sloping bank and a lazy stream edged with wild grape vines and berry bushes. Another set of French doors led to a balcony providing a wonderful view of an open meadow bordered by the forest. They watched for a few minutes while several deer came out of the woods and foraged for food hidden beneath the snow. The door beside the vanity was a walk-in closet, Steve had been in the master bath, and the other door opened onto the hall.
Olivia led him through the master bath into a well-appointed personal gym. Several weight machines, as well as a treadmill, a stationary bike, and a stair master shared space with a ping-pong table, exercise mats, a hot tub, and a sauna. A fridge sat in the corner, probably stocked with juice and sports drinks. Two doors led out to a wrap-around balcony. The north side of the balcony had the same view as the one in the bedroom, but the western balcony overlooked the pool. When he stepped out, Steve saw steam rising.
"Heated?" he asked.
"Of course. We'll go for a swim tonight."
"I didn't bring my suit."
She giggled. "Neither did I."
Stepping out onto the hall, Liv indicated six more doors, and said simply, "Bathroom, four bedrooms, closet."
She took him downstairs and into a huge living room furnished in dark wood and white leather furniture with an enormous oriental rug on the floor. There were two fireplaces, a grand piano, and a glass faced gun cabinet. "The rifle and shotgun are in there. Ammo's in the drawer, and the key to the cabinet is in the box on the mantle of the near fireplace." Pointing to a set of French doors to his left, she said, "The pool's out there. There's a pool house for people to change and a guesthouse out there, too."
"You mean this house isn't big enough?"
She shrugged. "The original owner had twelve kids."
Steve gave a low whistle. "Guess we know what he liked to do for fun."
She laughed, and indicated another set of doors across the room. "That's the way out to the flower garden."
Leading him to the right through a third set of doors, she said, "And this is the dining room. The table seats eighteen when fully extended. There's a matching table and thirty more chairs in storage."
Steve didn't know much about interior decorating, but he knew pure elegance when he saw it. Three crystal chandeliers illuminated the room, and the candelabra on the mahogany table, sideboard, china cabinet, and buffet echoed the design. A beast of a marble fireplace filled a third of the north wall, and the east wall was mostly windows, with yet another set of French doors opening onto and immaculate patio.
"Liv," Steve said softly, "This is a great house. Is this where you grew up?"
She laughed. "Oh, no, babe. There's not much left of the house I grew up in. This house belonged to a man who attended our church. Mr. Ralph Bradley was old and blind the first time I met him, and he had no family left to take care of him. Mama and Daddy made sure he was never alone for the holidays. No matter how lean things were for us, there was always a place for him at our table on Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, and every Sunday. There was always a present under the tree, and a basket from the Easter bunny, too."
"I see," Steve said. "And since your family was gone, he left it to you."
"Not exactly. He left it all to Daddy. We were going to move in here, had everything packed and ready to go the next day. That night the house burned. A long lost relative of Mr. Bradley's showed up to claim the estate, but Jud and May Stephens hired a lawyer to fight it. I got seventy- five percent of all financial holdings and all the real estate. The relative got the other quarter of the money."
"Liv, forgive me for asking, but, how did you survive the fire?"
She turned from him and walked out into the hall, her heels clacking on the hardwood floor. "I was away from home," she said. "I'll tell you all about it later, but right now, let's finish the tour. You haven't even seen the coolest part yet."
She led him into a large country kitchen with a flagstone floor and butcher- block counters. There was a roomy breakfast nook in one corner, a center island with a sealed cook-top and an overhead rack for pots, pans, and utensils. The sink was under a window that looked down the driveway, and there was a double oven near the utility room. The refrigerator and the dishwasher had doors designed to match the cupboards so they blended right in, and the walk-in pantry contained all the usual foodstuffs as well as a large chest freezer and a variety of small kitchen appliances.
Steve grinned. "My dad could spend all day here."
Liv laughed. "I'm sure he'd enjoy himself, but he might prefer the library. We'll get there in just a minute."
She led him into the mudroom through a door in the corner of the breakfast nook. There was nothing there but a washer, dryer, laundry chute, doormat, and a few potted plants, but like every room he had seen so far, it was nicely pulled together with a decorative theme. This time, Liv had chosen sunflowers.
She led him back into the hall and pointed to a door at the end. "That's a half-bath. There's a full bath at the top of the stairs, and two more half- baths, one for each pair of guestrooms."
Opening a door to his left, she said, "This is the parlor."
The room was bright and airy, decorated in what Steve thought was a tasteful blend of stripes and floral patterns. He also saw yet another fireplace.
"Liv, how many fireplaces does this house have?"
He shook his head when he saw he counting on her fingers. "Eleven, including the four in the guestrooms and one downstairs, but there used to be thirteen. I did away with two when I remodeled. I turned the husband's bedroom into a master bedroom, his dressing room and the wife's sitting room became the walk-in closet and the master bath, and her bedroom became the gym. Her fireplace is now the heat source for the sauna. I just completely tore out the fireplace that used to be in the kitchen. I couldn't figure out how to work around it. Let's go into the library."
The library was pretty much what Steve expected. He saw lots of books, some comfortable chairs, a desk, a window seat, and of course, a fireplace, but nothing that would lead him to believe his dad would find it more exciting than the kitchen.
"This is nice, all right, Liv, but what made you think this would get Dad all hot and bothered. She grinned enigmatically and crooked a finger at him indicating he should follow. She led him to a set of shelves and said, "Read the titles."
"Hmm…The Mysterious Affair at Styles…Murder in the Vicarage…The Fall of the House of Usher…The Hound of the Baskervilles…The Dirty Duck…Ellery Queen, Dashiell Hamett, Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, Trixie Belden…It's quite a collection of mysteries, but I think Dad's read most of them, except maybe the Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden books. Girl stuff, y'know?"
"Yeah, they're all mysteries, but what's special about them?"
Steve shrugged. "Most of them are old."
She continued to stare at him.
"How old are they, Liv?"
She smiled and said, "This is one of Meyer Goldstein's little investments. Every one of these books is a pristine first edition, and some are worth several thousand dollars to the right buyer. Some are even signed. Meyer's been working on the collection for twenty years now. Last time we spoke about it, he was missing one Sherlock Holmes, two Nancy Drews, and a Miss Marple, but he had people looking for him."
Steve grinned. "Dad would be in heaven."
"Let's go downstairs."
In the basement, there was a rumpus room with comfortable furniture, a wet bar, dartboard, card table, pool table, and fireplace. A large wooden box in the corner held a variety of sporting equipment as well, and a short stairwell led out to the south side of the house. Across the hall, Olivia led him into a large wine cellar with red, green, and yellow racks. "It's color coded so I know what I can drink," Liv laughed. "The green is drinking wine, the red is off limits because it's strictly for investment, and the yellow…I have to call Meyer before I touch it to find out if the value has gone up." The last room of the house was a huge storage room filled mostly with furniture and decorative items. "I had the whole basement sealed and installed a humidity control system, so it's safe for my antiques."
"So that's the house, huh? It's awesome."
"That's almost the house," Liv corrected. "You haven't seen the best part. The old guy who sealed the basement died a few years ago, so, as far as I know, I'm the only person alive who knows about this. You'll be the second."
"Oh?"
"This house used to be a stop on the Underground Railroad bringing slaves up from the South. Look at this."
She led him to what appeared to be a support pillar in the center of one of the basement walls. She pulled out a fist-sized stone, reached in the hole, and pulled a lever. A whole chunk of the wall opened by pivoting around the pillar.
"Wow!" Steve whispered in amazement.
Liv replaced the stone carefully, took his hand, and pulled him into the darkness. After closing the entrance behind them, she took a flashlight off a nearby shelf and showed him around. A tunnel stretched in two directions.
"That way," she pointed to the right, "goes to the barn. It brings you up into a secret little room. Down there," she pointed left, "Takes you to the well in the garden. There are handholds in the stone you can use to climb out." Sticking the flashlight in her hip pocket, she said, "Give me a boost."
Steve did as he was told, and was surprised to see Liv and the light disappear into the ceiling. Moments later the light shined down in his eyes, and she dropped him a rope.
"Use the rope to climb up to where you can reach the ladder."
He shinnied up the rope, climbed the ladder, and found himself emerging through a trap door into a small closet. She pushed the door open, and he found himself stepping into the utility room off the kitchen. Liv turned around, pulled the rope up and coiled it to the side of the hole and closed the trap door. As he watched, she jumped, caught hold of something, and pulled herself up and out of sight again.
"Follow me," she called, "and shut the door behind you."
This time, when he exited the closet, he found himself in the master bedroom again.
"Damn, Liv," Steve said in amazement, "This is just too cool."
"Language, Steve."
"Oh, sorry, but this is wild."
"One more stop, babe. Close the door."
They went up another floor, and when she opened the closet, they were in a large storage room with a sloping ceiling.
"The attic?" Steve queried.
"Yup. This half is just storage, but there's a two bedroom apartment at the other end. It even has a kitchen, bath, and living room." Leading him through the attic and back to the master bedroom on the second floor, she said, "Please keep this between us, Steve. I know it sounds silly, but until today it was a secret that belonged just to me, and it's kind of fun having something nobody else knows about."
Steve smiled at her and said, "Ok, Liv. It is neat, but if Jesse ever visits, can I use it to scare the daylights out of him?"
Liv smiled, "As long as I get to watch."
She went over to the vanity, put her shoulder holster on, checked her revolver to be sure the safety was on, and placed it in the holster.
Somberly, Steve asked, "Do you think you're going to need that?"
She shrugged. "I hope to God not, but if I do, I don't want to have to go to far to get it."
Steve nodded and got his weapon from the nightstand.
"While we're on the subject, there's a matter I'd like to discuss, Liv."
"Ok."
He took a deep breath, knowing she was going to fight him on this.
"We're not safe here, Liv. This house is too big and too isolated. There are too many ways for Ted to get in and too many places for him to hide. If he cuts the phones, help is a long way off. I think we should find a room in town."
"There aren't any, Steve."
"That's ridiculous, Liv. I know I saw at least one motel."
"Yep, but today's Groundhog Day. You'd be amazed how many people come to see Phil crawl out of his hole. There's no vacancy within thirty miles."
"I see. Then we should stay with some of your friends."
"And bring Ted to them? I don't think so, Steve. You can do what you want, but I'm staying here."
"Liv, I just think…"
"No discussion, Steve. My mind is made up." She walked out of the bedroom, leaving him to argue with the walls.
As she led the way back downstairs, she said, "I thought we'd join Jud and May Stephens for lunch. They took me in after the fire, and they're the closest thing to family I have left around here."
Knowing he would get nowhere with her right now, Steve let it go, for the moment. "They're Keith and Kenney's folks, right?"
"Yeah. Um, Steve?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't be surprised if Keith is…well…not exactly friendly. He and I share quite a lot of history, and…"
"We already met, Liv, the sheriff saw to it. He's the deputy who issued my gun."
"Oh. Why didn't you say anything?"
"I wasn't sure how you'd take it."
Olivia took a seat by the fireplace in the den to make a call while Steve stared out at the snow-covered garden. He felt like a target. There were just too many doors and windows to this place. It was a trap waiting to spring. His mind wrapped itself around and around the problem as he listened in on Olivia's end of the phone conversation.
"Hi, May?"
"Yeah, it's me." Steve heard the smile in her voice.
"My boyfriend and I are in town for a visit, and I was wondering….Could we come over for lunch? I'd really like you to meet him." She sounded strange, almost like she was begging. Was she afraid they'd say no?
"Yeah, Steve told me they met." She was worried.
"Well, now, May, if I know Keith, he still thinks he has reason to hate anyone who comes round here with me. He always was a bad one for holding a grudge." Steve frowned. She was pissed. He heard her take a deep breath, and when she spoke again, she was on the verge of tears.
"Look, May, you and Jud did so much for me after my folks died. I want him to meet you because I can't take him to meet Mama and Daddy. I don't much care what anyone else thinks, but your opinions matter to me."
"I know it's been a long time, May, but the only way I can explain is that it hurt too much to be here." Now she was in tears.
"Don't cry May….I can't help it either….We can? Ok, we'll be there in forty-five minutes….I know, May. I love you, too."
Steve came over to her chair, and when she stood up, he put his arms around her. "You ok?"
"Yep." She sniffed, smiled, wiped her eyes, and said, "Let's go, we have a lunch date."
It was a long drive to the Stephens's place, but the day was nice and clear, and in most places, the roads were in good condition. When Steve commented on the length of the trip, Liv laughed and told him, "That's one thing I never liked about this area. You have to go so far to get anywhere."
The Stephens's house was a pretty, two-story white farmhouse with a white picket fence and a wide front porch. Before Steve and Liv could get out of the jeep, an older couple was running out to meet them. She was medium height and he was at least six feet tall. Both had salt and pepper hair and both wore jeans and flannel shirts. Her hair was back in a neat bun with loose curls floating around her face, and he had a bristly mustache and a receding hairline like his son's. Both were grinning ear-to-ear and laughing out loud.
"Welcome home, Livvie!"
"Girlie, you look good!"
"I made your favorite, tuna casserole."
"Yeah, and she told me I had to wait until you got here."
"Jud, May, let's go in, please. It's freezing out here and I'm starving. This is Steve. Steve, Judson and May Stephens."
May nodded and Judson shook his hand warmly.
"It's nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Stephens."
Jud made an amused sound and told Steve, "I'm Jud, and she's May. That's what you're to call us, understand?"
"Yes, sir…Jud." Steve liked these people already.
As they bundled into the house, May said, "Steve, I understand you met our boys yesterday."
"I hope you don't hold it against the rest of the family," Jud said sarcastically.
"Judson…" May warned.
"May?" Jud responded innocently.
Steve tried to smooth things over as he took off his coat. "Yes, I did, May, and I can assure you, neither of them said or did anything that was inappropriate under the circumstances."
Jud snorted and said, "If you think like they do, you'd say that even if they'd beat your head in."
"Jud!" Both May and Olivia yelled at him.
Jud kept talking as he headed back the hall with their coats.
"As LUCK would have it, NEITHER of them is HOME today, but understand THIS, Steve. If I EVER get wind of EITHER of those KNOTHEADS giving you ANY trouble, I WILL make them REGRET it! I may be an old man, but I am STILL their DADDY, and I can TAN their HIDES any time I WANT!"
May was visibly embarrassed. Olivia was trying not to laugh for May's sake, and Steve didn't know what to think, but he certainly appreciated the show of support he was getting from this complete stranger.
"Thanks, I think, Jud. But wouldn't you rather get to know me before you take a stand like that?"
Jud grinned and said, "Kent Hargrove called me yesterday. I knew all I needed to know about you before you finished your breakfast. Irene Branch filled me in over lunch, and Sheriff Daniels caught up with me at the ball game last night. Everybody I trust to have good judgment says you're ok, and that's good enough for me."
Steve couldn't help but grin back. "Well, I do appreciate that, Jud. Thanks again."
"It's nothing son, and just so you know, my boys will come around. They both love Livvie, and as long as you're good to her, they'll come around."
Steve nodded, "I hope so."
"Good," Jud said, "Now that we've cleared the air about that, LET'S EAT."
May was an excellent cook. When Steve complimented her and asked if she had taught Liv, May laughed and told him, "Oh, I can cook all right, but Livvie taught me how to make this dish. It was her mama's recipe."
Liv nodded and said, "That's right, and every year for my birthday, Mama used to make this and that chocolate cake we had at your welcome home party."
"Actually," May said, slightly embarrassed, "Most of my family's favorite dishes are recipes I got from Livvie."
She turned bright red when Jud leaned over, kissed her on the cheek, and said, "It don't matter where the recipes came from, woman, it's love that makes them good."
Steve smiled to see the older couple flirt, and for a moment, it made his heart ache as he thought his parents would still act that way if his mom had lived. He looked at Liv. She wore a soft, sad smile, and he knew in that moment that her thoughts were traveling along similar lines.
As they ate and chatted, Steve learned more about Olivia's childhood and youth than he ever expected to know. He didn't say much, but he enjoyed hearing Liv and her foster parents reminiscing. Most of the stories were funny and highly embarrassing to Liv, but others were touching and poignant. One he especially liked was about when Olivia learned about drunk driving statistics in the county. She had gotten Cloud Nine to help her establish a free transportation service for people who had had too much to drink. She had hired a dispatcher and gotten a number of adults to volunteer as well. She installed a CB in every car, and when a call came in, depending on the age of the callers one of the Cloud Nine girls or an adult volunteer picked up the person and took them home. She paid mileage for the drivers out of her inheritance. Olivia also started tracking the number of calls made by certain individuals and got them into alcoholism treatment programs.
"For fifteen years now, our DUI and alcoholism statistics have been among the lowest in the state," Jud said proudly.
Steve looked at Liv and said, "You've always had a strong sense of social responsibility, haven't you."
Liv shrugged and said, "Mama and Daddy brought me up that way, and Jud and May finished the job. Making the world better for others makes it better for me, too."
As they moved into the living room, Jud chuckled and said, "Sometimes she got a little carried away with her 'social responsibility,' though. High school football will never be the same."
"Jud," Liv threatened, "Don't you dare."
"Oh, now Livvie, at the time you wanted people to know."
"What happened?" Steve asked.
"At the time, I was thirteen years old, now I'm old enough to be ashamed and embarrassed."
May laughed, "All the more reason for him to tell it, hon."
Olivia groaned and hid her face, knowing she was going to have to suffer through yet another embarrassing story.
Jud looked at May and said, "Help me out, Mother. That would have been Livvie's first year as a varsity cheerleader, right?"
Liv moaned, "You know very well it was."
"This is a great story, son," Jud said in a conspiratorial tone as he leaned toward Steve.
A local printing firm had donated football programs for all the home games, and the cheerleaders sold them for seventy-five cents a piece before the game and at half time.
"It didn't matter what the weather, we were always there an hour early, and we never got a break for hot chocolate or anything during halftime. At least the players got to go into a heated field house."
"Yeah, whatever, Livvie." Judson continued with the story.
Liv, being ever the curious one, decided to find out where the money went. It took a couple of weeks, but she eventually found that it all went into the football team's account. She was deeply offended and decided to take action. She started with the cheerleading coach who told her it had always been that way, and the coach knew it was unfair, but she had tried and failed to change things.
"That was like a red cape to a bull, son. Livvie dug in and made up her mind that she was going to change things or die trying."
"You encouraged me, Jud."
"That was before I knew what you were about to get into," he grinned.
"I did nothing wrong."
"At least nothing that could be proven."
She went to the head football coach next and when he gave her the brush off, every helmet in the field house was full of horse manure when the players arrived for the next game. On the door was a note saying, "We demand fair treatment. Give the cheerleaders a fair cut or sell your own programs." Olivia had been at the diner until time for the cheerleaders to report. Casey and Irene confirmed it.
"At least it was horse turds and not gutter slop from the cows," Olivia protested.
Of course, nobody knew who had done it, but Liv was the prime suspect. The next week was an away game, and Olivia took advantage of the intervening time to press her cause. She prepared a well-researched, reasonable argument in support of giving the cheerleaders two thirds of the funds raised from the program sales. She gave the football coach and the principal each a copy, and when she again received a negative response, the players' jock straps got soaked in liniment just in time for the next home game.
Steve cringed at that. He'd been a victim of the same practical joke as a JV player in junior high.
"And would you believe it was their biggest win of the year? Forty-nine to nothing," Jud said.
"Yeah, and the coach tried to talk the team into doing it again for the next game. Superstition, you know."
This time Olivia had been working as a receptionist at the county old folks home as part of a church service project, and she had her time sheet to prove it. "A certain amount of Christian service was required for our confirmation, and we had to have the sheets signed."
She went to the superintendent with the same argument, this time demanding seventy-five percent of the money. He said no and explained that a child, especially a girl, could not be reasonably expected to have any comprehension of the issues involved.
"I told him I understood the issues better than he did: chauvinism, greed, and condescension."
This time every one of the game balls blew apart on the kick-off. They had to send someone to a sporting good store to buy a new one. The next day, the coach found an envelope full of cash on his desk and a note saying, "Sorry about the expense. Give the cheerleaders a fair cut and maybe we'll tell you how we did it."
Liv grinned, "Razor blades. Don't slice through the stitches, shave across them….Or so I've heard."
Finally, she got a hearing before the school board. They kicked the matter back to the principal, who refused to do anything about it. Then *really* bad things started happening. Monday at practice, the tackling dummies all fell apart on the first hit due to loose hardware. When it rained on Tuesday, the words, "Fair treatment for the cheerleaders, give them a fair cut," bubbled up in the end zone where someone had written the words with laundry detergent. Somebody cut off the water heater at the field house on Wednesday, and none of the players got a hot shower after practice. On Thursday, all the sports drink was laced with salt and hot sauce. On Friday morning, the principal came in to find that the press box had been torn down and reassembled in the main lobby of the school. Nailed to the door was a note saying, "If it's this bad already, just wait until homecoming. Give the cheerleaders a fair cut."
Liv always had an alibi.
"I can't believe they didn't put a guard on the stadium," Steve laughed.
"They did," Jud said. "That's why no one could ever figure out how she got away with it."
"Jud," Olivia protested, "I never 'got away with' anything. Do you really think I could have faked waiting tables at the diner or moved the press box across campus myself."
"Yeah, Livvie, I know, but only you had the creative mind to come up with such stunts, and you had a lot of kids who liked you enough to get into some mischief for you."
Olivia was sent home that day before she even got to her locker and told not to return without Jud. The principal gave Keith permission to drive her home.
"The first thing she did was call her lawyer, Harold Pendergast," May said. "Then she changed into the navy-blue business suit she wore to the old folks home, put her hair up, and dug out her high heels. It made her look ten years older, at least. She made Jud wear a suit, too, and she put copies of all the letters she'd written and responses she'd received about the matter in this nice leather portfolio she used for taking notes in school. She got her tape recorder, put in new batteries, and found a blank tape in Kenney's room."
"On the way back to school, we had a long talk." Jud took over. "She reminded me that when it all started I had told her she should stand up for what she thought was right, and she asked me if I agreed that the cheerleaders should get a percentage of the take on the programs."
"And you did," Olivia put in.
"Yes, I did." Jud agreed, "and when she asked if I thought she had followed proper channels, I said she had. Then she asked if I would support her if she forced this thing to its inevitable conclusion."
Olivia got up and kissed the old man on the cheek. "And you said yes."
"I said yes, even though the words 'inevitable conclusion' scared the beans out of me."
Steve could barely contain himself, "I can just imagine what she did next."
"Oh, no, son, you can't begin to imagine," Jud swore. "We met Harold outside the school, and Olivia told us both, 'I know exactly what I'm going to say and do. Just roll with it, and everything will be cool.'"
Jud was truly warming to his story now.
"Harold and I just looked at each other and shrugged. We went to the receptionist, and she soon showed us into the principal's private office. There were none of the usual formalities this time, let me tell you. Livvie thumped that tape recorder down on the desk, hit record, and said, 'Mr. White, let me make this perfectly clear. This meeting isn't happening unless I can record it. Any objections?'
"Jack 'The Ass' White," May and Olivia both cringed at the name-calling, "was looking forward to it. He didn't know he had Olivia right where SHE wanted HIM.
"'I have no objections at all, Miss Regis,' he said, 'I have nothing to hide. Why do you feel you need a lawyer?' The fool had no idea what he was dealing with," Jud said proudly. "At the time, though, neither did I."
"Livvie looked at White and said, 'You might be glad he's here before it's all said and done. The temptation to do something foolhardy is strong when tempers run hot. He might prevent you from taking actions that could cost you your job.'"
"Wait a minute," Steve interrupted, "You're a heartbeat away from expulsion, and you go in there and threaten the man's job? Liv, that's insane!"
"Yep."
Steve gave her a measuring look and said, "And typical, I'll bet."
Liv grinned, "Yep."
Steve turned back to Jud and asked, "What happened?"
Jud laughed, "She let White think it was his meeting. He asked her a bunch of questions about the various incidents at the football field and she gave him the same answer every time."
"What?" Steve asked, "That she had an alibi?"
Jud shook his head and laughed harder, "Ohhh, no. Nothing that easy, but you have to hear her say it. How'd it go, Livvie?"
Olivia folded her hands in her lap, sat up straight, put on a purely innocent face, and said, "Under the rights granted to me by the Fifth Amendment to the Constitution of the United States, I respectfully refuse to answer that question on the grounds that it might incriminate me, sir."
By this point, the foursome was laughing uncontrollably.
"You took the Fifth," Steve said, nearly hysterical. "He was going to expel you, and you took the Fifth!"
Jud wiped tears of laughter from his eyes and said, "She did that for an hour and a half, and the funniest part was, the pause before 'sir' got a little longer every time. She made it sound like an afterthought. Pissed White off beyond belief. Several times, she actually interrupted him with it because he started his next question before she 'remembered.' He got so frustrated I thought he was going to stroke out on us. I have never seen a man get that angry without hitting *something*. And our Livvie just sat there cool and collected and sweet and innocent and respectful as could be."
Steve laughed some more. "Now I've seen her do that before. Drives people nuts."
"Oh, yeah," Jud agreed. "Well, White had simply had it. He was through. He told her, 'Miss Regis, you are suspended until further notice. Clean out your locker and go home. You are hereby prohibited from attending any school events or entering any school property until I choose to lift your suspension. That won't be any time soon.'
"Liv looked at him, still the picture of composure and innocence, and asked, 'On what grounds….sir?'"
"White just exploded. 'Grounds? Who says I need grounds? You have been a wicked little creature since you came here! You are an INSTIGATOR and a TROUBLEMAKER! I don't NEED PROOF to know that YOU are responsible for what's been happening at the football field! I am TIRED of you causing trouble in MY SCHOOL! If you were MY CHILD, I would BEAT you within an INCH of your LIFE! You are SUSPENDED for the FULL YEAR! Next year, the first time you SNEEZE, I will PUT YOU OUT for disrupting school. You will NEVER graduate from THIS SCHOOL as long as I LIVE because I LOATH you, you EVIL LITTLE PERSON!' He was stamping his foot and shaking his fists and turning red. His eyes were a-bulging and his veins were a-popping out on his neck and at his temples.
"And when he finished Livvie leaned forward and said quietly, 'Let the record reflect that Mr. White has threatened me with physical abuse.'"
The group dissolved in hysterics again for a while. Finally, Steve choked out a, "Then what?" Olivia finished the story herself.
"I shut off the cassette recorder, and told him, 'Thank you Mr. White, I've got what I need now.' He just stood there panting while I explained. 'You do not have the authority to suspend me for the year. You do not have the authority to suspend me at all under the circumstances. I think out loud, make a suggestion, and something happens. I can't help it that other people take my random thoughts seriously. You can't prove that I did a thing. You will lift my suspension and give the cheerleaders eighty percent of the proceeds from the programs and ten percent from the concession stand, and when I leave this office, I will tell everyone that you were reasonable and understanding and that we easily reached a mutually agreeable solution.'
"'Or what?' he asked.
"'Or, you will suspend me, and I will drag you and the school through the courts from here to doomsday.'
"'It'll never happen,' he said.
"'Actually, it will,' Harold broke in, and started citing case law and appellate court decisions.
"When Harold was finished, I told Mr. White, 'You will suffer through two trials, one in the courthouse, and one in the press. I have more money in the bank right now than the school district takes in for the year.' I didn't know if it was true or not, but then, neither did he. 'I can hire more lawyers and buy more ink at the paper and more airtime on radio and TV than the school could ever hope to. I will cost them so much money over your rash decision that you will be lucky if they recommend you for the night custodian at a K-9 obedience school.'"
Steve just shook his head, "My God, Liv. You're incredible."
She smiled. "He agreed. Harold drew up some documents on the spot, and after he signed them agreeing to give us eighty percent of the program money and ten percent of the concession money he said, 'When this started, you said you only wanted fifty cents for each program.'
"'Yep.'
"'Why so much more now?'
"I'm not proud of what I said," Liv admitted.
Jud laughed, "I sure was. He deserved it."
"What'd you say, Liv?"
"I told him, 'I want eighty percent for the programs to make up for what we didn't get in years past, and ten percent of the concession…because I can get whatever I want.'"
"Mr. White retired the following year," May said.
Steve laughed a little, "Oh my God, Liv. That is just too good. I guess it really was practice for what I saw at the sheriff's office yesterday, wasn't it?"
"It's not funny, Steve. It…It was petty and childish…and…and everything I hated about rich people when I was growing up poor. It was shameful."
"But, Liv, you had good cause," Steve insisted. "The man was a jerk! He had it coming."
"There is never 'good cause' for being mean-spirited, Steve," Olivia declared.
"Maybe not," Steve agreed reluctantly, "but I bet it felt good."
Liv flashed a small grin and said, "Yeah."
May said, "I think you paid for anything you might have done wrong when you got home that afternoon."
"May," live said in warning.
"I mean it, Livvie. She tells that story like it's a joke, but she never tells is how she cried herself sick when she got home. She took a stand all right, and she accomplished what she wanted, but all the yelling and threats had terrified her."
Steve squeezed Liv's hand and said, "I was wondering about that, Liv. I know you don't like to be yelled at."
She shrugged and said, "It's all in the past. I prefer to remember the good bits and let the rest fade into the mists of a selective memory."
They chatted a little longer about this and that, and Steve told Jud about the scene at the sheriff's office the previous day. "Odd how Rick never mentioned it when we talked last night," Jud commented. Steve and Liv related the story about Mark and Jesse "practicing" yoga and how Liv turned their foolishness into a joke on them. Jud laughed and told Liv, "The only thing Jackass White had right about you was that you are a wicked little creature, Livvie."
She gave him an impish smile and said, "But my friends love me in spite of myself." She gave Jud another peck on the cheek.
Before they knew it, it was after three. Liv got up and said, "Jud, May, it's been absolutely wonderful seeing you again, and I promise Steve and I will be back again before we leave, but it's getting late in the day, and I wanted to take Steve by the old homestead before we go back to my house."
"It's been a while since you've been by there, hasn't it?"
Liv nodded. "Twenty three years, May. It'll be twenty-four in June. Except for the memorial service I haven't been back since the fire."
The phone rang and May went to answer it as Jud asked, "Are you sure you can do it, Livvie? I remember what it was like for you when you came back from Europe, and you never even got up the drive."
Liv moved close to Steve and took his hand. "That was twelve years ago. Lately, Jud, I feel like there's nothing I can't do, but I figured we'd come in the back way, behind the barn, and see how it goes. Just in case."
Jud agreed. "Sounds like a plan."
"Livvie," May called from the kitchen. "It's someone named Mark, and he wants to talk to you and Steve. He sounds frantic."
"Oh, my God, Steve! We forgot to call your dad." Liv sprinted for the kitchen with Steve barely a step behind. She grabbed the phone and said, "Hello, Mark…Yeah, we're both fine…How'd you find me here?…Oh, Meyer knows just about everything. I'm not surprised…Yes, he's out, but Steve and I have discussed it to death. I'm staying, and he's decided to stay, with me…Who called you about it?…WHICH Deputy Stephens?" She gave an exasperated huff, "Deputy K. Stephens, huh? Very cute."
Jud muttered, "I'll kill 'em both, so help me God."
"…Look, Mark, Steve and I are taking reasonable precautions. We'll be ok….He's right here. Ok, I'll put him on in just a second."
She covered the mouthpiece and told Steve, "Deputy K. Stephens called your dad and told him Ted was out of prison. Said CG was the last known address he had on me, so he was trying to contact me through my employer. He told your dad to let me know that anyone close to me was in as much danger as I was. Your dad told him I had come back for a visit, and that he could probably reach me at my house."
Just then, a police cruiser pulled up the drive and Jud rushed out of the house. Liv shoved the phone into Steve's hand and said, "You calm your dad down, and I'll keep Jud from killing boys."
"Hello, Dad, sorry we forgot to call."
"Son, I want you to come home now and bring Liv with you," Mark's voice was stern, but Steve could hear the worry.
He answered as he watched Liv step between Jud and the boys, and he wondered if Jud really intended to beat his sons.
"Dad, I can't force her to come back to LA, and I won't leave her here alone. We'll be ok," Steve assured him. "She got the sheriff to contact Captain Newman, and I've been loaned to the sheriff's department to protect her. They've issued me a gun, and would you believe Liv has a permit to carry?"
"Yeah, didn't she tell you? While you were in the hospital, she got Captain Newman to help her out with that."
Steve's eyebrows shot up in surprise, "No kidding."
"Yeah," Mark said, "That girl could sweet talk a hungry tiger out of a steak."
Steve could hear the humor in his father's voice and judged him sufficiently calmed down. Out the window, he could see that Liv had things well under control with Jud and the boys. He wanted to know what was being said, so he decided to end the call.
"Look, Dad, Liv and I are going to be fine, but I know she has plans for this afternoon. I'll call you tonight, around eight your time, ok?"
He heard a sigh, and Mark said, "Ok, son. I feel better now that I've heard your voice. You be careful."
"I will, Dad."
"I love you, son."
"Love you, too, Dad, and hey, remind me to tell you about Liv's first year cheerleading when I call tonight."
Mark chuckled, "Ok, talk to you later, son."
"Bye, Dad."
When Steve got out to the car, Jud was telling his boys, "You two better get to him before I do, or I'll be in his cell, and there won't be enough of him left to put in a pine box."
Steve slipped his arms around Liv, and said, "What's going on, babe?"
She stepped away from him and said, "Keith and Kenney didn't call your dad, Steve, but they found out that Ted had an article stashed in his cell all about my moving to LA and going to work at Community General. It was something the board had published, kind of like bragging rights, I guess, since I chose them over Cedars Sinai and UCSF. There was also an article about your shooting, a small piece in the police blotter section, but it named the hospital and me."
Steve was apprehensive. "Do you think he'd go after my dad, Amanda, and Jesse?"
Keith answered him. "No way. He's got this love obsession with O. He'll kill you and me and anyone else who gets in the way to get to her, but once he's got her, he's harmless."
Steve looked at Liv, and she nodded. "Maybe you should go home, Steve."
"Not a chance, Liv."
"I want you safe."
"I'll be ok. I've been through this kind of thing before."
"Um, ok. Uh…look, I really want to go by…home…before I go back to my house. Watch your back, Keith."
The deputy nodded. "I will." Looking at Steve, he said, "Take care of her."
"She'll be safe with me."
With that, Liv and Steve got in the jeep and left.
On the way to her childhood home, Liv asked tentatively, "Would you mind being a little…less affectionate…around Keith? The last time he saw me was the day he canceled the wedding. I think he might need some time to…adjust…to the idea of you and me being a couple."
"I can do that, Liv, but are you sure it's not you who needs the time?"
He saw anger flash in her eyes, "What do you mean by that?"
"Easy, babe. I just meant that the last time you saw him was also when he canceled the wedding. It can't be easy for you either. I can understand if you find it awkward. Take as long as you need, I don't mind."
She sighed and said, "I guess you're right. I was trying to pretend it's no big deal, but I guess it wasn't working."
"Not very well, anyhow."
She pulled the jeep to a stop beside a barn on the edge of a clearing and said, "Here we are."
"There's nothing here, Liv."
"Only to the untutored eye, Steve." She got out of the jeep and went to root around in the back. Eventually, she pulled out a telescope, which she set up and focused. She waved him over and said, "Look. That's where we used to play baseball. The spruce was first base, the dogwood was second, and the maple tree was third. Home was just a bald spot in the yard."
Steve looked, and said, "Hey, it's almost a perfect infield, isn't it?"
"Uh-huh, here, let me show you something else."
He moved out of the way and she adjusted the telescope again. When he looked back through it, he saw a tree. "Once I read a poem about a boy who liked to climb birch trees. He'd go all the way up to the tippy-top branches and then swing out on the limbs and let the trees set him back on the ground. I liked it so much I tried it once. Daddy caught me."
Steve laughed. "What did he do?"
"Grounded me for a week."
"He was probably afraid you'd break your neck."
He stepped back to smile at her, and she jumped to the telescope and refocused it again. As he looked through, she said, "That's where Pauly set the dog on my bunny. If you look closely, you can see the remains of the doghouse."
Again and again, she showed him things through the telescope that he'd heard about from her childhood. He was freezing, and wanted to get this over with, but he knew she really had to work her way up to it. Finally, she focused on the charred foundation of a house.
"Eight of us lived there," she whispered. "Three boys in each bedroom, Mama and Daddy in the master bedroom, and Beth and me in a room Daddy partitioned off from the living room. It was a foot wider and three feet longer than our bunk bed."
As he looked through the eyepiece, she said simply, "I need to go down there, Steve."
"Do you want me to come?"
"If you want."
"I want to be there for you, Liv."
"Ok."
She started walking. It was only fifty yards across a snowy field of corn stubble, but she dragged her feet, so it seemed much further. Finally, they stopped a few feet from the edge of the foundation. She stood very still, and Steve slipped his arms around her. This time she did not walk away.
"I was twelve years old, Steve. I'd gotten a job delivering newspapers, and I had saved enough money to buy something for Mother's Day and Father's Day, and to pay for 4-H camp. I used to go on what they called, 'scholarship.' It meant I gave up a game or swimming period every day to help in the mess hall so I didn't have to pay. I was so proud of myself because for the first time, I would be just like the rest of the kids and I didn't have to scrape trays and sweep floors."
Steve squeezed a little tighter and she leaned against him.
"I'd made Mama a flower pot and Daddy a little leather key chain. They had a fly-tying workshop, and I'd made one for each of the boys. I had a bracelet for Beth. It felt so good to be bringing presents home for once. I finally had something to give them."
She started to shake slightly.
"Let's go, Liv. It's cold out here."
She didn't budge. He wasn't sure she heard him.
"Nobody came to pick me up at the Grange Hall when we came back, and I thought they'd forgotten me. I was angry and hurt, but one of the county extension agents gave me a ride home. He dropped me off at the end of the lane where we came in, and I walked to the house. The firemen were looking for my body when I came around the corner of the barn. No one at the scene knew I had gone to camp."
"My God, Liv. You just walked up on it? All alone?"
She turned and pointed back to the jeep. "I came running right down through here. The leaves of the corn plants cut up my arms and legs, but I never noticed. One of the firemen caught me before I got to the…ruins, but I screamed and fought and kicked and bit until I finally got loose."
She slipped from Steve's embrace. "I ran into the debris, right here."
She moved to a corner of the foundation, and walked into the ruins. "I guess I was looking for my family. My shoes started to melt in one of the hotspots. I screamed myself hoarse, calling for them like I thought they could hear me. Maybe I thought they were hiding. I don't know."
She turned to face north. Steve could see that her eyes were closed. She was reliving events. Pointing to a place in her mind, she said, "The moving van was right there. Then I saw the body bags. My whole world narrowed down to one…two…three…four…five…six…seven…eight…black plastic body bags." She pointed at each one in her mind as she counted them in a trembling voice. "They were arranged in order of size. Benny was first. He was bigger than Daddy. Then Pauly and Andy. Then John-John, for some reason he was the only one of the guys with short genes. He was a good five, maybe six inches shorter than Andy even though Andy was eleven years younger. After John-John came Mama, then Beth. The last one was for me. I looked at a fireman and asked, 'Am I dead?' He said, 'No.' And I screamed."
She sank down to her knees in the snow and the rubble.
"Liv…"
She didn't hear him.
"I don't know…what I screamed," her voice took on a desperate tone and she began talking rapidly, "but I screamed and screamed and screamed until I was coughing up blood, and I ran from one body bag to another, back and forth and back and forth trying to get the courage to open one and look at my family and see that it was real and…and"
She broke into sobs.
"Liv…"
"…and I finally opened the empty one and tried to crawl in it."
She ran trembling hands over her face and through her hair. Then she wrapped her arms around herself and started to rock back and forth on her knees. Tears were streaming down her face.
She was panting for breath as she continued. "We were going to move into the house Mr. Bradley had left us the next day. They were waiting for me to get home from camp. I insisted on being there to say goodbye to our old house. It was my fault."
"No, Liv, it just happened. You didn't cause it," Steve said softly.
She nodded, and Steve hoped she was agreeing. After all, she had said it had taken her years to realize it wasn't her fault. He hoped this visit wasn't changing her mind about it. He couldn't imagine what that kind of guilt must have been like for a twelve-year-old child, and he didn't want her reliving it now.
"I had never in my life wanted anything more than to be dead at that moment. The firemen kept trying to pull me out, but I'd fight loose and try to get into the body bag again. I kept screaming, 'Take me, too, God. Take me now.'"
Steve walked over to her, knelt behind her, and rocked with her, gently shushing her as she babbled on at a frantic pace.
"I ran back to where my bedroom used to be and rolled in the ashes and muck and made myself black all over, and I told the firemen, 'See, I burned up, too,' and I tried to crawl back in the body bag, and I kept insisting I was dead. I could smell burnt flesh and burnt plastic and the body bags had a smell of their own, and everything was soggy and it stank and I'll never forget the smell of those black plastic body bags. My eyes burned and hurt because of the ashes in them and I tasted blood and I started throwing up and…"
She fell silent and became deathly still for several moments, and then she started to wail. It was a wild, high-pitched animal sound that made Steve's insides shake and the hair on the back of his arms stand up. He didn't know what to do, and he was afraid she was having a breakdown right there in his arms.
"OH, GOD, STEVE! GET ME AWAY FROM HERE NOW!"
Without a moment's hesitation, he scooped her up in his arms and started to run with her to the jeep, glad that she knew she was with him. He wasn't sure, but he thought it was a good sign that she was still in the present. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and sobbed hysterically. At the jeep, he sat on the hood and rocked her gently in his lap, telling her it was all right and he loved her.
Little by very little, she calmed down; and, with her face still buried in his the crook of his neck, she finished her story.
"They finally sedated me, and I woke up days later in a straight jacket. At first, my eyes were bandaged to let them heal from the damage the ashes had done. My throat was so sore from screaming it still hurt to breathe, and I had a lot of cuts and burns. I didn't know why I was there. I didn't remember. I kept asking for Mama and Daddy. When the psychiatrist told me what had happened I denied it. I screamed and hollered and cussed and cried and tried to escape for days. Then one day, when I was trying to sneak out of the hospital, I hid from security in the morgue. The smell of the body bags brought it all back. They eventually found me sitting on the floor under an autopsy table. I stopped talking for almost a month. Ostensibly, I was in the hospital for my physical injuries, but everyone who knew me knew I'd lost my mind. The grief and…guilt and the…aloneness…were overwhelming."
"I can't begin to imagine, sweetheart," Steve said as he rubbed her back.
She slipped off his lap and started to walk back toward the ruins. He caught her by the sleeve. "Liv, are you sure you want to go back down there?"
She nodded mechanically and kept going. She walked past the ruins and down over the bank to a small stream. Seven weeping willows grew by the stream.
"I missed their funerals. Jud and May took care of all of that." She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "I know…they were…all burned up, but I still wish I could have seen them once more. I think it would have been easier to go on if I had just SEEN them. It would have made it all real. That July would have been Mama and Daddy's thirtieth anniversary. We held a memorial service that day and I planted these trees. At the time, I chose weeping willows because I thought they were pretty and they love water, but now, I like to think they cry all the time in my place so I can do other things with my life."
Steve wrapped his arms around her again. "They are beautiful."
She slipped away. He watched as she walked back and forth under the trees for several minutes. She touched every one of them, brushing the ends of the overhanging branches, laying her cheek against the bark, wrapping an arm around the trunk. She seemed to be drawing strength from them. Finally, she bowed her head and seemed to utter a brief prayer.
It was almost dark when she came to him and said with a sigh, "I'm ok now. I can't let it go, but I can put it behind me. I'll drive a stake to mark my path and forge ahead from here. It's a landmark, not a dead end, Steve, and I'm ready to go on, with you."
He slipped an arm around her shoulders, and she put hers around his waist. They walked back to the jeep in silence, and after a lingering hug and a kiss, they climbed in and drove off.
Neither of them noticed the tall shadowy figure lurking in the dark shadows inside the barn.