Breath of Scandal (12 page)

And I don't care if Ivan Patchett fires you this Sheriff Jolly,   if you haven't got the guts to stand up afternoon. In fact,

to him and quit, I would just as soon he fire you. I loathe the idea of being dependent on him for anything.

"I also don't give a flip about what a trial might mean to your reputation or mine. I don't care what anybody thinks. would believe such a vicious lie about Me

Anyone who                value I would place on his opinautomatically sacrifices the

ion -

"The only reason I don't want a trial is Gary. Our relationship would be opened to public scrutiny. Strangers would discuss it over clotheslines. I couldn't bear knowing that something as pure and clean as the way we have loved each other was being turned into something ugly and shameful, something to snicker at.

"I love him too much to expose him to something this ugly. Can you imagine how he would feel, knowing that three boys had . . . had ... emptied themselves into me?" Tears rolled down her cheeks. A crack seemed to open up in her chest like a fissure in the earth, and she uttered a

"No, Marna, you can't imagine what that would do moan.

to Gary, but I can. He would want to kill them. He might very well attempt it, and jeopardize his future in the process. "A clever defense lawyer-and Ivan could afford to hire

the best-might subpoena Gary to be a character witness against me. He would either have to discuss our intimacy in the open or perjure himself to keep from it. I won't let that happen." Resolute, she wiped the tears off her cheeks "Finally, I realized that a trial would only postpone the inevitable. "

"What do you mean?" Velta asked.

"I will be the one who has to see that they pay for this. Somehow, someday, I III get restitution." Instantly her tears dried. "Why go through the legal motions when they            Ire

ary through that virtually guaranteed acquittal? Why put G

misery? He'll be hurt enough when I break up with him.

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And in order to protect him, I'll have to break up with him," she added dully.

"By the way, Mama, we got our scholarships. The letter came yesterday. I was on my way to tell him the good news when Donna Dee's car ran out of gas." The unfairness of t was overwhelming and debilitating. She slumped against I

the drainboard.

Velta rose from her chair and briskly dusted her hands. "Well, whatever your reasons, I'm glad to hear that you plan to get on with your life. The best thing you could do is forget this ever happened. "

Jade's head snapped up. Violent energy smoldered in the depths of her blue eyes. Though she stood very still, her body was taut and quivering. When she spoke, her voice was calm and chillingly controlled. "I'll never forget it."

By second period, there were sweat rings rimming the armholes of Lamar's shirt. He was nervous, upset, and confused.

Neal and Hutch were absent from school. That alone made him feel adrift. He had considered staying at home himself, but that would have required making up an excuse for his mother. Whenever possible, he avoided having any inter-

ane, especially if it involved dissembling. action with Myraj

She could spot a lie at fifty paces.

During homeroom, the principal, Mr. Patterson, had announced to the entire student body that seniors Gary Parker and Jade Sperry had received full college scholarships. Everybody had applauded.

"I know you'll want to extend these two outstanding students your congratulations," the principal had said over the PA system. "Unfortunately, Jade is absent today, but be sure to remember to congratulate her when she returns to school."

Upon hearing that Jade was absent, Lamar had really begun to sweat. Between classes, he met Gary Parker in the hallway but pretended not to see him so he wouldn't have to speak. Could he ever face Gary again after what

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he'd done to his girl friend? Last night he had harbored a secret pride in his sexual accomplishment. In the cold light of day, however, he was reminded that his success had been at Jade's expense.                          3-ratulations from Seeing Gary graciously accepting cong

his classmates brought Lamar's guilt to the forefrontSwamped with shame and horror, he ducked into the nearest boys' restroom and threw up in the toilet.

He had fourth period with Donna Dee Monroe. When he entered the classroom, he was relieved to see her sitting at her desk, but his relief was short-lived. His stomach lurched threateningly when she made eye contact with him.

She knew.                 earching look she gave him that He could tell from the s                  at happened after she knew - Somehow she had found out wh

they had deserted her on the highway. The stare she leveled on him made him feel worse than he did when his mother flew into a tirade over one of his many shortcomings. He felt naked and exposed. He wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. Instead, he had to endure fifty-five minutes of English class. The minutes ticked by with torturous slowness.

Who had told Donna Dee? Jade, he supposed. But when? How? The last time he had seen Jade, she had been lying on the ground with her knees drawn up to her chest- He remembered thinking that it might be best if she just died. Then there would be no one to testify to what he had done. His mother would never find out. Of course, he had buried the thought quickly, before the Lord had time to hear it and strike him down.

Apparently Jade hadn't been hurt as badly as she had looked. But how had she gotten back to town? Had she told anybody what had happened at the channel? Obviously so, because Donna Dee knew. Oh, Christ. If Donna Dee knew, then other people would find out, and eventually his mother would hear of it. There would be reprisals. No matter what Neal said, there had to be.                                  his

By now Sheriff Jolly probably knew. Even though           do son was involved, he was a man of integrity. He would what was right. Any minute now a burly deputy might come

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crashing through the door of the classroom brandishing a firearm and waving a warrant for Lamar Griffith's arrest.

Blood drained from his head so fast, he had to lay it on top of his desk to keep from fainting. His skin was clammy. He felt nauseated again.

Lamar thought seriously about running from the classroom, all the way downtown, and throwing himself on the mercy of the district attorney. Better to rat on his friends and turn state's evidence, better to have Ivan Patchett for a lifetime enemy, better to be locked up with thieves and pimps and serial killers, than to experience the wrath his mother would unleash.

As it turned out, Lamar missed his chance to make a mad dash for the door. While the pupils were supposed to be engrossed in reading Alexander Pope, Donna Dee approached the teacher's desk and whispered a request for a pass to the nurse's office.

"What's wrong?" the teacher asked.

"I don't feel well. You know." She gave the teacher that look that women exchange to signal that they're having their period.

"Of course, dear. Go home and fie down with a heating pad- "

Covertly, Lamar watched Donna Dee leave. As she closed the classroom door behind her, she looked directly at him, but he failed to interpret the meaning of her silent communiqu6. It looked like she was telling him to keep his mouth shut.

By the time school was dismissed for the day, his unsteady knees barely supported him as he rushed to his car. Because he didn't know what else to do or where else to for answers, he drove out to Neal's house.

90  It was situated on a piece of prime real estate. From the highway, a gravel road wound through thick woods. The cultivated lawn surrounding the house was as wide as a football field. Three ancient live oaks protected it with a dense canopy of branches. The roots snaked along the ground like lava tubes.

The two-story brick house was impressive, but Myrajane

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Griffith scorned it. "Old Rufus Patchett didn't have a lick of good taste. He designed that house so it would have eight columns across the veranda, when six would have done just as nicely. Rufus wanted to rile Daddy by building a house grander than ours. It's trashy to be so ostentatious," she'd often said.

But recently she had contradicted herself, saying, "It's disgraceful the way Ivan has let that lovely house go to rack and ruin. It needs a woman's touch. He should have remarried long ago. That Eula who works for him is a slovenly housekeeper. She's lazy and insolent. "

Lamar had the good sense to keep his mouth shut and not ask where his mother got her information. To his knowledge, she had never set foot in the Patchetts' house. She had dropped him off many times but had never been invited inside.

Ivan's father, Rufus, had made a fortune in cotton. The sweat of cotton pickers, sharecroppers, and gin workers had gone into the mortar that held the pastel bricks together. Rufus had been clever. While his contemporaries were haggling with brokers to squeeze one more penny out of a bale of cotton in a declining market, he'd switched to growing soybeans. Like Myrajane's family, most of the cotton planters had lost everything. They'd sold plots of acreage to Rufus for ten cents on the dollar just to keep from having to pay the taxes on soil they could no longer afford to cultivate.

Rufus had been land-hungry and gobbled up property right and left. Ignoring the derision of his peers, he had continued to plant soybeans. When it became feasible, he       'd built the factory so he could manufacture the by-products himself. After Rufus died, Ivan had inherited all the land and the factory and the power that went with them. One day Neal would do the same. And his son after him.

Lamar, rather than feel envious of his friend, was relieved to know he didn't have that kind of responsibility ahead of him. He had been suckled on stiff-necked Cowan family pride and frankly thought it was destructive and stupid. What good had it done the Cowans? The only ones left were a

distant cousin or two and Myrajane, who was stingy, grasping, and possessive. She'd made life hell for Lamar's late father, whom he still missed. Maybe if she had started out poor, they all would have been happier.

As Lamar approached the house, he saw that he wasn't Neal's only guest. Hutch's car was parked out front in the circular driveway.

Eula answered the door. Conscientiously, Lamar wiped his feet on the mat before stepping into the marble vestibule "Hi, Eula. Is Neal here?"

"He's upstairs with Hutch, in his bedroom."

He jogged up the sweeping staircase and opened the second door on his left past the gallery. Neal was sitting on the floor, his back propped against the bed. Hutch was slouched in an easy chair. Remarkably, Neal looked the same as always. Hutch's freckles seemed to have turned darker overnight. Or was it that his skin beneath them was unnaturally pale? The scratch on his cheek stood out in stark contrast.

"Hi," Neal said. "Come in. Want a beer?" "No, thanks."

Hutch said nothing. They made brief eye contact, but, because of the sinful secret they now shared, it was difficult for Lamar to look directly at his friends. Apparently Hutch felt the same.

Neal appeared unfazed. "How was school today, Lamar?"

"Okay, I guess."

"Anything momentous happen?" He took a swig of his beer.

"No." After a brief pause, he said, "Mr. Patterson announced that Gary and . . . and Jade got college scholarships." He shot Hutch a furtive glance. Hutch blanched paler than before.

"You don't say?" Neal drawled. "How 'bout that? Good for them. "

Hutch bounded out of the easy chair and moved to the window. In his wake, he left a string of curses. Regarding Hutch, Neal took another sip of his beer. "What's eating

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your ass? Aren't you glad about their scholarships?" Laughter lay just beneath his words.

Angrily Hutch spun around. "Aren't we even going to talk about it? Are we just going to pretend nothing happened?"

Now that Hutch had broached the subject, Lamar was relieved that he could finally talk about it with someone. "Jesus, I've been scared shitless all day."

"Scared? Of what?" Neal asked scoffingly. "Of getting into trouble, what do you think?"

Neal sat up straighter, shaking his head as though puzzled by Lamar's concern. "Like I told you last night, we aren't going to get into trouble. Don't you listen to Me when I tell you something, Lamar? We didn't do anything wrong."

Lamar glanced at Hutch. Hutch wasn't as complacent about the situation as Neal was, but he wouldn't speak up at the risk of appearing cowardty and getting on Neal's bad side. Lamar was on his own.

Lamar grabbed his diminishing bravery with both hands and held on. "Some people might see it different, Neal." "What people?"

"People who hear about it."

"Who's gonna tell? Jade?" He snorted. "Hardly." Hutch said, "She told my daddy."

"She told your daddy?" Lamar repeated in a high, squeaky voice. His knees gave out beneath him and he dropped to the floor with a thud. "What'd he do?"

"Not a goddamn thing!" Neal, obviously annoyed, stood up and tore another can of beer from the six-pack. When he opened it, the foamy head bubbled over his hand. As he shook off the suds, he said, "You two really piss me off, you know? If you go around looking and acting guilty of something, everybody'll think you are."

"Maybe we are." Neal's eyes cut to Lamar. Lamar felt like an insect being pinned to a piece of Styrofoam, but he had to get this off his chest or burst. "No matter what you say, Neal, I don't think Jade wanted us to ... you know. "

"Are you nuts?" The words rushed from Hutch's mouth as though they'd been building up from internal pressure.

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"Of course she didn't want us to, you idiot. She fought Re a hellcat. We raped her, pure and simple."

"Oh, Jesus." Lamar slumped to one side. His bowels felt watery. He feared he might mess himself. He thought he might vomit again. But if he disgraced himself, so what? He was going to die anyway the minute his mother got wind of the crime.