If Anything Should Happen Read online

  ‘But this is the first day. Anything can happen.’ She wiped her eyes. ‘I know what you’re going through.’

  ‘At least you found your siblings,’ I said.

  She nodded, her amber-brown eyes shiny. ‘Only, it was too late to find my father while he was still alive. You can’t wait on this, Kit.’

  ‘But I don’t know where to start.’

  ‘Your blog. Blast her name all over the Internet. Go to Arizona. Knock on doors.’

  ‘I have a job,’ I said. ‘I can’t just drop everything.’

  ‘That’s what I said.’ She wiped her eyes. ‘I kept thinking I’d never find him, and finally, once I was away from my mom and living on my own, I realized he was a part of me, regardless of what she thought of him. At least you have a town.’

  ‘But that’s all I have.’

  ‘I did everything, even tried to trace military records. I’ll never know him, and he’ll never know I tried.’

  ‘Oh, Tamera, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Well, shoot.’ She tried to laugh, but the sadness didn’t leave her eyes. ‘Knowing my mama’s taste in men, he was probably as big a jerk as the rest of them.’

  I put my arm around her. ‘I just want to know. I want to look at her and know that she’s my mother, no matter what she’s like, no matter why she gave me up.’

  ‘Then don’t do what I did,’ she said. ‘Don’t waste any time, Kit.’

  We walked together out the back door. The morning felt clean as fresh laundry, and I wanted to bury my face in the scent of it. I loved these hours, loved having my official work day over when most people’s had barely begun.

  When Richard and I were falling in love, there weren’t enough hours in the night to contain us. I’d drive home from his apartment at five, maybe six, drinking in the new day like a drug. In those hours, wearing the same clothes from the night before, I came as close as I ever had to unabashed happiness.

  Dawn could still conjure those feelings for me, fleeting as they were. And now, with the show behind me, and most of the day ahead, I felt something akin to hope.

  Tamera stood beside me, staring off, as I was, into the clear sky. ‘You better go in,’ I said. ‘You’re on in a few minutes.’

  She nodded but didn’t move. ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘I’m going to find her.’

  ‘Good.’ She gave my arm a tight squeeze, and the shadows lifted from her eyes. ‘I’m going to help you, Kit.’

  FIVE

  After Dale left on Thursday morning, Rena counted one thousand one, one thousand two, all the way to one thousand ten. Then, she smudged the house.

  Intent, she thought, just as Kendra had said. She lit the sage bundle with Dale’s old Zippo lighter and held it over a bowl to catch the ashes. Then, she walked through the living room, the bathroom, the TV room Dale called a den, and, finally, their own bedroom, even passing the smudge stick over the rocking chair where she kept the lavender smocked pillow she’d made back in high school.

  Burn away, burn away. Those were the only words in her mind as the stinging smoke followed her from room to room. That must be her intent, then.

  Dale had said he was going to check out a construction job in Phoenix, so she could finally relax. She’d barely been able to breathe since he’d grabbed her.

  Start acting like a wife again instead of a crazy woman.

  The words hammered into her skull like nails driving into tin. Rat-a-tat roar. But she was all right now. She wasn’t crazy.

  Maybe he’d get this job. Maybe he’d be gone for a couple of days, maybe a week. She looked around the hazy room. At least he’d be gone long enough for the smell of smoldering sage to sink into the house so that he wouldn’t notice that she’d done the one thing he’d warned her against – listened to Kendra Trafton.

  Her scalp still ached. Her neck too. All of a sudden, the room felt too warm. Not so smart to try to smoke out evil spirits on the hottest day in weeks. Besides, Dale had said she had to work the store today. She’d better get back there.

  She started toward the front of the house. Something small – the wrong kind of noise, but nothing she could name right off – stopped her. She began to tremble. Don’t let it happen again. Please don’t let it happen. A floorboard cracked out in the living room. No, she wasn’t making up the noises. They were real.

  Dale. The thought skittered across her mind. He’d lied, set her up, hadn’t gone to Phoenix at all. Now, he was here, sneaking back to catch her. And he would, too, if she didn’t get rid of the sage bundle and the smell – most of all, the smell.

  She shoved the bundle into the bowl Kendra had given her Monday and stuck it under the sink. Then she grabbed a green dish-towel off the counter and started waving it around the room. When he came sneaking in, she could tell him she’d burned something on the stove – soup, maybe, or chili. Yes, chili, and she’d had to pour it down the drain. Oh, Lord, why had she done this? She rubbed her scalp and waited for the worst.

  Nothing happened. Her neck continued to ache. The smell of sage continued to fill the kitchen, but Dale didn’t come busting in to grab her hair and yell at her again.

  She heard the little whoosh sound of the front door closing, and not on its own. It didn’t make any sense unless … No, not unless anything. She wasn’t imagining one moment of this.

  Sweat broke out on her palms, and she rubbed them against her shorts. Maybe Kendra was right about Dale and all that abuse-cycle stuff. Maybe he was just trying to make her think she was going crazy. She’d catch him trying to sneak out, though. Maybe that’s what the sage had done, just forced him out of here like the evil, lying thing he was. Still, she’d catch him, and even though she wouldn’t say a word, he’d know she was smarter than he thought.

  She ran through the house and threw open the front door. But it wasn’t Dale heading down the stairs.

  He turned toward her. The same face, only sadder, and with lines pulled so deep at the corners of his eyes that it must hurt him to smile. His body was the same, with the tight muscles pulling back the shoulders, the long legs in black boots.

  ‘Leighton,’ she said. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be out of her life. Gawking at him, trying to compare his body and his face with her memories, she realized that he was probably doing the same with her.

  ‘Sorry if I scared you.’ Still on the stairs, he turned and kept his gaze on hers, not on her grungy, dirty shorts, not on her gray T-shirt that felt suddenly too tight.

  ‘You didn’t scare me.’ Her voice came out as a croak. ‘I didn’t realize anyone had come inside the house.’

  ‘I knocked first.’ He took the last step down and pulled off his baseball cap. His damp hair waved around his ears. The gray mixed in made it more of a brindle color than the curly reddish blond she remembered. ‘I shouldn’t have come in, but there was no one in the store, and the front door was unlocked. I thought maybe Bryn was in there with you.’

  ‘She’s off today.’ She followed him into the yard, more dirt than anything else. So that was why he’d come by, after all these years, to check on his daughter. But of course. That’s what a parent should do. More than Bryn could expect from Debby Lynn. That was for sure.

  ‘Off?’

  ‘That’s why there’s no one in the store. I’m supposed to be working it.’

  They stood close now. She could smell the sweat and the worry on him.

  ‘She told me she had to work,’ Leighton said. ‘You haven’t seen her?’

  ‘Dale told me he gave her the day off.’

  ‘And where’s Dale?’

  With a sickening thud, she realized something wasn’t right. ‘He’s supposed to be checking out a construction job over in Phoenix.’

  Leighton didn’t change expression. Only his fingers flexed in and out. ‘You haven’t seen Bryn, and you don’t know where Dale is either?’

  ‘You don’t think she’s with him?’ she asked.

  ‘Do you?’
/>   She stared into his eyes. ‘Leighton?’ That was all she could say. His name.

  He touched her cheek, and she cringed.

  ‘No. Don’t pull away from me. You know I’d never hurt you.’

  ‘I do know that.’ But, when he reached out, she shrunk back again. ‘I’m sorry. But you’re not supposed to be here. You promised.’

  ‘I want to know what’s going on,’ he said. ‘With Dale and Bryn.’

  ‘I told her if she didn’t behave here on the job, I was going to talk to you about it.’

  ‘What do you mean, behave?’

  ‘She’s at that age,’ she said, speaking rapidly, so she couldn’t change her mind and try to sugar-coat it. ‘You know, when everything’s brand new, and you just want to try it out. No, that’s not it. I’m not saying it right.’

  ‘You mean when a young woman wants to see if she can attract a man?’ he asked.

  ‘Exactly.’ She exhaled, drained from even this short contact with him. ‘That’s what Bryn’s doing. Trying to find out if she can get a man to notice her. Every girl goes through it.’

  ‘You didn’t.’

  ‘Yes, I did.’ She allowed herself a smile. ‘Dale’s a grown man, Leighton. He’s not going to let anybody make a fool out of him, most of all not some young girl who … Not Bryn, OK?’

  ‘You sure of that?’

  ‘Yes, I think I am.’ She was. There were problems in their marriage, sure, and parts of their past were more nightmare than real life. Still, Dale wouldn’t cross certain lines.

  ‘I need to find out for myself. Bryn’s had enough to deal with, and I blame myself for all of it.’ He moved beside her, and an unmistakable sound, out behind a cactus taller than she was, sent chills down her neck.

  ‘Rattler,’ Leighton said.

  ‘They’re everywhere. I’ll never get used to them.’

  ‘You hate this place as much as I love it.’ He studied her neck, the place Dale had grabbed her. She felt like a bug under some scientist’s microscope.

  ‘Got no right to hate it,’ she said. ‘I’ve never been anywhere else that’s better.’

  ‘There are places.’ The sun caught him just right, and the curls around his neck glistened. ‘I’ve seen those places, and they would blow your mind.’

  ‘Nothing, except maybe winning the lottery, is going to blow my mind,’ she said.

  ‘And what would you do with the lottery?’

  ‘Just run.’

  ‘You could do that right now.’

  ‘Don’t start, Leighton.’

  ‘I’m not starting anything.’ His knuckle brushed her cheek. ‘You think he’s with her right now? Tell me the truth.’

  She shook her head and met his eyes again. ‘Why would he do something that crazy?’

  ‘Because of us.’

  ‘He knows that was all in the past. Besides, I’ve never told him much.’ Never told him that she loved Leighton. She’d never said it in those words.

  The knuckle again. More than a brush this time. ‘He knows, Rena.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I can tell by the way he acts around me.’

  ‘That’s just his way. The war messed him up. He’s a good person. A good father,’ she corrected. ‘He knows Bryn’s the same age as his own son. And he knows what you’d do to him if he laid a hand on her.’

  ‘You’re right there.’ His pale eyes went dark. ‘I’d do the same thing if he ever laid a hand on you. You understand that?’

  ‘I’m his wife.’ Such a weak answer that she had to turn away, too ashamed to watch the reaction on his face. ‘You’d better go.’

  ‘Is that what you want?’

  ‘What I want?’ She looked out as far as she could at the dry, dead land that held her life and always would. ‘What I want is just to get through the day without any trouble.’

  ‘You’ve got my office number,’ he said in a voice that appeared to fade.

  ‘Yes. Yes, I do.’

  ‘You can call it anytime. There are laws, you know.’

  ‘And you’re a lawyer,’ she said. ‘I know that, too.’

  ‘Then, why—?’

  ‘I’ve got to get back inside,’ she said. ‘I left something burning.’

  ‘I smelled it from the porch. What is it, anyway?’

  She couldn’t help grinning to herself. What would he think if she told him? ‘Something I got over in Tucson.’

  ‘From Kendra’s herb shop? Have you seen her much since she got back?’

  ‘It’s been almost a year now. I work in her shop sometimes.’

  He gnawed on his bottom lip the way he had back in high school, as if to say he was figuring out all of her secrets. All of them. ‘So what was that burning smell? You’re not smoking any of that wacky tobacky, are you?’

  She looked for meanness in his face and couldn’t find any. Nothing in either his voice or his eyes. ‘Not hardly. Kendra sells herbs that can heal and help you. She knows how to use them too. I can’t tell you what a comfort she’s been to me.’

  ‘I’m glad for that.’ He reached out for her bare arms, and for that moment, she let his fingers press lightly against her flesh.

  A horn honked like a shotgun blast between them. They broke apart, and Rena whirled around to see Dale’s truck screech into the side yard. It kicked up enough dust to surround them like an angry cloud. Bryn sat beside him in the passenger seat.

  Leighton sucked in his breath in a harsh gasp. As the dust still danced around the truck, Dale sat glaring through the windshield at Rena, his face red and twisted with anger.

  SIX

  Tamera convinced me of what I had already started believing. I could not waste any time. After that talk with her, I spent most of my free time studying missing people on online sites. An eighteen-year-old whose deserted van was found in Arizona. A mother whose son was convinced she had tried to flee an abusive relationship. A fifteen-year-old described by her sister as wearing long sleeves; otherwise covered with scars and cuts. A young man who was a nice guy but off his meds.

  I saw their faces, their guarded smiles. I glimpsed their secrets and the highs and lows of their lives. In the past, I had studied only crime blogs similar to mine. Now, I observed the world of the missing. Most of the seekers on the family sites were women, and most, like Tamera, asked for help finding their fathers. Others tried to connect with children. Almost all of those seeking biological mothers had grown up knowing they were adopted. As far as I could tell, no one in Buckeye had reported a missing daughter.

  Kendra hadn’t exactly tried to find me. At one time, that might be reason enough for me to put off this search. But not after I saw the regret that haunted Tamera. I would blog and speak for as many hours as it took to find any answer, even one I didn’t want to hear.

  Late that week, Carla Brantingham called and asked for a meeting downtown at the Crocker Art Museum, and I could already guess what the soft-spoken, heavy-handed mayor of our city would want. The Brantinghams had funded my show to publicize unsolved crimes, to shine the light on victims like Alex, Carla’s murdered brother. She probably wasn’t all that thrilled that I was using the show as a forum for my own search. As I drove toward O Street, I tried to memorize a response – anything from: ‘It won’t happen again,’ to: ‘Take your funding and shove it.’ As if I could ever best Carla in the mildest debate.

  I still hadn’t gotten used to the remodeled museum’s contemporary structure, which resembled a rocket about to take off. Carla looked as if she might do the same. Her teased blond hair blew around her narrow face, which was always prettier at first glance. That thought made me guilty. This woman’s family funded my life, or at least a big part of it. She’d never been anything but nice to me, and I knew she had loved Alex. But I was sure she wouldn’t have picked my blog to spread the word about unsolved crimes if he and I hadn’t interned together for that short time.

  She hurried toward me in a tailored suit so fitted and blue that I almost had to blink, not o
nly because of the color, but also to be sure I was in the right decade.

  ‘How are you?’ I hated that question and the defensive way it made me feel.

  I took her extended hands. ‘How are you, Carla?’

  She paused. Then with a brief squeeze, she released me. ‘Quite well, actually. Thanks for meeting me here. I wasn’t sure how long this event would go on. Our timing is perfect.’

  Hers, she meant, but I was OK with that.

  ‘What can I do for you?’ That’s how our meetings always started.

  We began walking though the spring morning toward a des-tination only she knew. ‘May I be candid?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course.’ It won’t happen again. Take your funding and shove it.

  ‘It’s about the radio show.’ A breeze caught us, and we ran across a narrow street. ‘Our mission statement and all.’

  ‘To honor Alex,’ I said from memory. ‘To expose unsolved crimes and—’

  ‘Exactly.’ She stopped on the sidewalk, and I realized her eyes matched her suit. Had to be contacts. ‘Here’s my concern.’

  ‘The current topics?’ I asked. ‘Farley and I do try to keep to the unsolved theme.’

  ‘And you’re doing a fine job.’ She flashed me a rich-girl smile. ‘But Kit, you simply cannot give that freak any more air time.’

  ‘What freak?’

  She shook her perfect head. ‘You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?’

  This woman, the mayor of our city, was far from stupid, and I didn’t enjoy being treated as if I were.

  ‘Carla, with all due respect, we get more than one so-called freak calling in. So if you can’t be more specific, I’m afraid I can’t help you.’

  I wanted to turn and head the other direction. She must have sensed that because she reached out and touched my arm.

  ‘It’s that horrible man, the one who calls in a whisper.’

  Then I knew. ‘The one who says Frank Vera is innocent.’

  She cringed. ‘Yes. That one.’

  ‘We call him Bert the Troll,’ I said. ‘Every station has at least one, and blogs have many more. People like him make outrageous statements just to get attention.’