6 Rainier Drive
Page 13

“I called Will and spoke to him,” Charlotte continued. “Georgia’s moved out, but he seems to think she’ll change her mind. Apparently she has in the past.”
The waitress came with their order and two bowls. Steam rose from the noodles bathed in their seasoned chili sauce, topped with broccoli and slices of chicken. Although it smelled heavenly, Olivia found her appetite was gone.
“Georgia isn’t going to change her mind this time,” Charlotte said calmly. “I spoke to her, too, and heard the determination in her voice. It’s over and frankly, I don’t blame her.”
Olivia was saddened to learn that her brother had destroyed his marriage. She remained angry with him for what he’d done to Grace. He’d apparently thought Olivia would never learn of his deception but she had, and she’d let him know how upset she was. He’d brushed off her chastisement, with the implication that she was overstepping her bounds. In Will’s opinion, this wasn’t any of her business. But it was, and Olivia refused to forget what Will had done to her best friend.
Once they were off the subject of incorrigible sons—David and Will—Charlotte and Olivia made Easter plans. Everyone was coming to Olivia’s for dinner, but Charlotte had planned brunch for Easter morning, following church services. She was baking her cinnamon rolls, which were Jack and Ben’s favorite.
Charlotte and Olivia chatted about some of Charlotte’s knitting friends as they finished lunch. Then Olivia paid for their meal and they returned to the courthouse.
Allison Cox met her outside her chambers, waiting as Olivia flipped through her phone messages, something she hadn’t had a chance to do before leaving with her mother. The one on top made her smile. It was from Grace, and it said she’d see her at aerobics class that evening.
Ten
Allison was convinced of two things: Anson would be back before graduation and she’d hear from him by Easter. The more she thought about it, the stronger the idea became. Anson would call her by Easter. She knew it. She felt it. She lived on that hope.
Her day in court with Judge Lockhart-Griffin had been revealing, to say the least. People did stupid things and seemed shocked when they were held accountable in a court of law.
Anson wasn’t like the people who stood before the judge. He’d been working hard to do the right thing, and then it seemed everything had blown up in his face. No one believed he was innocent. Yes, he was angry and disillusioned with the Gundersons—understandably because they’d laid him off—but that didn’t mean he’d started the fire.
She sat on her bed and studied her notes from the day in court. The phone rang in the distance and she left it for Eddie to answer, since he considered it his duty to check all incoming calls. He was okay as brothers went, she supposed, but sometimes he could be a real pest.
“Allison!” he shouted as if she were deaf. “It’s for you.”
“Who is it?” she demanded.
“Some guy. He didn’t give his name.”
Only half interested, Allison reached for the receiver in her room. She paused. “Hang up, Eddie.” When she heard the click, she said, “Hi,” in an indifferent voice.
“Allison.”
Her heart stopped. It was Anson.
“Where are you?” she asked, gripping the phone with both hands.
“I can’t tell you.”
“Are you okay?”
“Sort of.”
She wasn’t sure what to make of that.
“I needed to hear your voice,” he said. “I know what happened at The Lighthouse. Everyone thinks I did it, don’t they?”
She couldn’t lie to him. “Yes.”
He didn’t respond for a moment. “I swear to you, Allison, it wasn’t me.”
“I believe you.” It was hard to speak past the lump in her throat. In her joy at hearing from him, she nearly floated off the bed. “How did you get past Eddie?” That was a crazy question when so many others were far more important.
“I had a friend of mine call. I’m using a throwaway cell phone. No one’ll be able to trace it. I don’t want to get you into trouble.”
“Do you need anything?”
“No…just the sound of your voice. I knew if I heard it I’d be okay.”
“I will be, too,” she said breathlessly. She longed to tell him how desperately she missed him and how difficult it was to go to school every day and defend him. Anson didn’t need to hear any of that. His troubles far outweighed hers.
“Has it been bad for you?” he asked. “Did the sheriff question you?”
“Yes. I…told them about you coming to my window that night.”
“That’s okay—you had to tell the truth.”
“You…you smelled of smoke. I was too upset to realize it right away…. I—I didn’t say anything to the sheriff.”
He didn’t comment or explain. Instead, he asked. “Is there a warrant out for my arrest?”
“No.” She lowered her voice on the off-chance Eddie was listening. “But the sheriff says you’re a…a person of interest.”
He seemed relieved to hear that. “No matter what anyone tells you, Allison, I swear I didn’t do it.”
“I know.” She closed her eyes and held her breath, as if to keep him close. Then she wondered if he had a specific reason for reaching out to her, if he needed her help. “Should I send you some money?”
“No. I’m fine.”
Her heart pounded so hard that her pulse echoed in her ears. The money box had been taken from the office the night of the fire. Allison had heard the sheriff mention it to her father.
Anson hadn’t been able to save any money because everything he’d earned as a dishwasher and later as a prep cook had gone toward restitution for the fire he’d set in the park. If he left Cedar Cove with money, it hadn’t come from his employment. She wanted to ask what he was living on, but she was afraid of the answer, afraid of the truth.
“Come back, Anson,” she pleaded softly. “My dad will help you.”
“He can’t,” he returned, “not this time. I appreciate everything he did, but this is bigger. I’m eighteen now, Allison. This isn’t going to be handled in juvie. I’d be tried as an adult and I can’t risk that.”
“Please.” She didn’t want to beg. “I can’t stand not knowing where you are or what’s going on.”
“It’s too late, Allison. I’m sorry—sorrier than I can ever tell you.”
“It isn’t too late. It can’t be.” Anson didn’t seem to understand that they’d never be together if he didn’t clear his name.
“Where I am,” he began, then stopped abruptly.
“Yes?” she urged.
“There’s no going back for me. I shouldn’t have phoned.”
“No! I’m so glad you did.”
“I have to go now.”
The reluctance in his voice made her feel like crying. She wanted to argue with him, plead with him to talk to her for just a few minutes more. Instinctively she knew it wouldn’t make any difference.
“Will you call again?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Please.” All her love was in that word.
“I’ll try. Believe in me, Allison. You’re the only good thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“I believe in you. With all my heart I believe in you—I believe in us.”
The phone disconnected.
For a long time, Allison just sat on her bed, holding the receiver. Tears pooled in her eyes but she held them back, unwilling to let them spill over.
Some time later, she heard the garage door close as her mother came home from work. Rosie Cox was teaching fifth grade this year at one of Cedar Cove’s elementary schools.
“Allison,” her mother said as she walked past her bedroom door. She knocked once. “Would you mind peeling five potatoes for dinner?”
“Sure.” She tried to sound normal, as though everything in her world was exactly as it should be. Apparently she failed, because her mother opened her bedroom door and glanced in, her face showing signs of worry.
“Everything all right?” she asked gently.
Allison shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
Her mother stepped into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “I remember when you were three years old and you decided you were perfectly capable of pouring your own bowl of cereal.” She smiled as she spoke. “It was early one Saturday morning and you sat in the middle of the kitchen floor, where you emptied the contents of an entire box into a single bowl. I walked in, and you looked up at me with almost the same how-did-this-happen-to-me expression you have now.”
Allison had heard that cereal story a dozen times. “I didn’t do anything,” she insisted, and she hadn’t.
Her mother patted her hand. “Does this concern Anson in some way?”
Allison wanted to deny everything, to vent an anger that came from frustration—and fear. Being defensive was how she would’ve responded a few years ago. But she knew that ploy wouldn’t work. Lowering her head, she whispered, “He phoned.”
Exactly as Allison had suspected, her mother snapped to attention. “When? Just now?”
Head still bent, Allison nodded.
“We have to tell the sheriff,” her mother said. “You know that, don’t you?”
“Mom,” she cried, “we can’t! Anson swore to me he’s innocent. He told me he didn’t set the fire and I believe him.”
Her mother slid one arm around Allison’s shoulders. “If that’s the case, we don’t have to worry. We want Sheriff Davis to solve this so Anson can come home, right?”
Allison wanted that more than anything.
Her mother called the sheriff, who arrived about the same time her father did. Everyone gathered around the kitchen table, and Sheriff Davis questioned Allison again and again. He reviewed every detail of her brief conversation with Anson. Halfway through, the sheriff’s cell phone rang. He excused himself to answer it, going into the other room, then returning to the kitchen a few minutes later.
“The phone is untraceable,” he announced. “We don’t know where he is.”
That was what Anson had told her, but she was relieved to hear it, anyway.
“Do you think he’ll phone again?” Sheriff Davis asked, pinning her with a look.
“I…I don’t know.” But Allison prayed that he would.
“You have any idea how he’s living?”
“No.”
“What about money?”
“He said he didn’t need any.”
Her parents exchanged a quick glance, knowing that she’d offered to give him what she had. She tried to defuse the tension, saying, “I asked him to come back, but he said he couldn’t.”
“There might be a very good reason for that, Allison,” Sheriff Davis said. “An innocent man doesn’t need to hide. If he calls you again, you tell him I said that, all right?”