Hidden Memories (19 page)

Hayley Mitchell swaggered into Ramion’s office, smelling like she’d sprayed on an entire bottle of Giorgio. The black-Lycra form-fitting dress was a showcase for her young, ripe body—breasts like melons, a bottleneck waist and curvy hips. Her movements were as exaggerated as the way she dressed and the way she talked.

When she sat in the chair across from Ramion’s desk, she tilted her upper body forward, intentionally displaying her ample breasts in a low, V-cut bodice. She wriggled in the chair, struggling to pull down the hem of the dress that hung mid-thigh when she was standing.

“Uncle Ramion,” she said, her voice soft and seductive, as if she were trying out for the lead role in a movie about Marilyn Monroe. “How are you?”

“The question is, how are you?” Ramion had only been around Hayley three times since his Uncle Walter married her mother, and each time he was amazed at how grown-up she acted. If he didn’t know she was just sixteen, he would have guessed her to be twenty-three or twenty-four. It wasn’t just her excessive makeup or seductive clothes, it was her eyes—eyes that had experienced things far beyond her years, eyes that knew the pain of life before she had the strength to bear it. Cold eyes wrapped around a wary, nothing-bothers-me attitude.

“I’m fine,” Hayley answered. “Don’t I look it?”

Ramion ignored her play for a compliment. “You’ve made some serious allegations against your stepfather.”

“I know.”

“Are they true?”

“Would I lie about something like that?”

“Perhaps it was a misunderstanding. I’d like to resolve this in the family.”

“I didn’t misunderstand what he wanted.” She fished around her imitation Louis Vuitton doctor’s bag and pulled out a pack of Salem 100’s; a lighter was tucked inside the plastic wrapping. She looked around his desk and the nearby table for an ashtray while pulling a cigarette out of the pack. “Got an ashtray?”

“This is a nonsmoking building.”

“Please!” Hayley said, waving her hand in the air. She spotted a Styrofoam cup in the wastebasket and sashayed around the desk to retrieve the cup from the garbage. She lit the cigarette and blew out circles of smoke. “What are they going to do? Arrest me?”

“Does your mother know you smoke?”

“Uncle Ramey, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a baby,” she said, slowly crossing her right leg over her left. “I do what I want to. Of course she knows I smoke. I’ve practically raised myself, anyway. She’s always too busy either searching for a husband or getting rid of one. Walter is her fourth husband, you know, and he’s practically history.”

“Umh, let’s get back to the subject at hand. Are you sure this wasn’t just a misunderstanding?”

“Walter has been after me since he married my mother,” Hayley said.

“Is that so? What has he done to make you think that?”

“He’s very affectionate. He likes to hug and kiss me.”

“What kind of kisses?”

“I know the difference between a peck and a kiss, especially French kissing.” She smiled slyly, running her tongue around her lips.

“Did he kiss you like that in front of your mother?”

She rocked her crossed leg back and forth. “Please! He knows better than that.”

“Did you like it when he kissed you?”

“Sometimes.”

“Have you and Walter had sexual relations?”

Hayley looked down at the floor, at the black high-heeled platform pumps on her feet. She lifted her head and met Ramion’s inquisitive stare. “Yes,” she answered softly.

“I see. How many times?”

Hayley puffed on her cigarette and looked away. “Four, maybe five times.”

“At your house?”

“Yes.”

“When was this?”

“About four months ago,” Hayley said, staring out the window.

“How come you didn’t say anything before?”

“He didn’t rape me those times.”

“I see, and the last time he did. What happened that was different?”

“Uncle Ramey, I hope you don’t think I’m a bad girl or anything like that,” she said, her voice suddenly taking on all the nuances of innocence.

“I just want to know what happened, Hayley, so maybe we can find a way to work this out without things getting worse. So just tell me about that night.”

“I really don’t want to talk about it.” With her legs crossed, she nervously kicked her leg back and forth, puffing on her cigarette, looking around the office.

“We have to, Hayley.”

“I’m tired of talking about it.”

“Your stepfather can go to jail. His life is at stake.”

“I don’t care,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

“You don’t care if he goes to jail for something he didn’t do?” Ramion asked impatiently.

Giving Ramion an exasperated stare, she said, “Oh, he did it all right.”

“You just told me that you had sex with him four or five times and you didn’t complain.”

“Things were different then.”

“What changed?”

Hayley paused before answering, to puff on her cigarette, her expression angry. She met Ramion’s probing stare, a betraying flicker of sadness in those seen-too-much-too-soon eyes. “He made me get an abortion.”

Chapter Ten

The Georgia legislators convened at the state capitol to discuss the remaining bills to be decided upon during the last week of the three-month session. Sage sat near the press box, anxiously watching as the senators debated the issues surrounding changing the state flag.

Some senators made passionate pleas for the flag to remain unchanged.

“For historical significance.”

“It doesn’t offend the people in my district.”

“It represents our Southern heritage.”

“It’s worked for us all these years, why change it?”

Others argued their reasons for changing the flag.

“It’s a symbol of hatred.”

“This isn’t the 1800s. We’re on the verge of a new century, and we should have a new flag.”

“Why have a flag that offends people in this state, in this country and in other parts of the world?”

Their statements drew strong reactions; voices were raised and fingers pointed. Several times the Speaker of the House had to bang his gavel to bring order to the diverse legislative body.

Sage focused on the senators she knew were going to cast the deciding votes. She watched them—gauging their faces, reading their body language—for a clue. She observed the undecided senators listening to their fellow legislators, trying to decide whether they seemed to be swayed by an argument.

After everyone had voiced his or her views, the floor leader called the bill to a vote.

When the votes were finally tallied, twenty-seven senators had voted to change the flag and twenty-six senators against. Three senators were absent.

“Yes! Yes!” Sage cried when she heard the floor leader announce that the change-the-flag bill was approved.

She took her portable phone from her briefcase and called upstairs to the governor’s capitol offices. “Hi, Cindy, put me through to Cameron.”

“It passed!” Sage announced, when she heard Cameron’s voice. “Very, very close. It squeaked through by one vote.”

“Excellent!” Cameron said. “Good work!”

“I’m on my way up. The media is everywhere. I’m going to set up some interviews for you. This is the perfect time for you to push the education program.”

“Okay, Sage,” he said, his voice reluctant. “But no more than three interviews.”

“Will do.”

As Sage approached the elevator to go up to the third floor to the governor’s state capitol offices, she was surrounded by reporters and cameramen.

“How do you feel about changing the state flag?” a reporter asked.

“I’m very pleased that the bill has been approved. I believe it shows that legislators are listening to their constituents, and they realize the significance of the state’s image.”

“What about the voters? Do you think many voters will participate in the special election to select a new state flag?”

“Absolutely, the voters have a voice and they want to be heard.”

The elevator doors opened.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go,” Sage said. “The governor will be available for interviews this afternoon.”

Sage stepped inside the elevator and pressed the button to the third floor. Reporters called out questions until the elevator doors closed.

* * * * *

“Pops, have you talked to Uncle Walt about Hayley?” Ramion asked while driving the golf cart to the driving range on the eighteen-hole golf course.

“He won’t talk to me. He just mumbles, ‘Them womens done cleaned me out.’ He’s still very upset about it,” Raymond said.

“Those charges aren’t going to go away. Did he tell you that he had been having sex with Hayley?”

“Yeah, but he claims she seduced him.”

“She might have, she’s a hot little girl. But it doesn’t matter because she’s underage.” Ramion parked the cart, jumped off and went around to the back to pull out the bag of clubs. “Flora Bell won’t return my calls.”

“Says she’s too upset. She keeps calling Linnell, crying about not being able to pay the bills.”

“Why did she move out like that?”

“She said she had to protect her daughter. But if you listen to Walter, he’s the one who needed protecting. He knew it was wrong, but he says he couldn’t help himself. She just threw herself at him.”

“Where were the other girls when this was going on?”

“At school.”

“What about Flora? Where was she?” Ramion asked. He swung at the golf ball and watched the ball roll near the hole.

“At work. She’s a nurse and works odd hours, sometimes at night.”

“Leaving Uncle Walter with three beautiful girls,” Ramion said, lightly tapping the golf ball and successfully knocking it into the hole.

Raymond and Ramion strolled over to the next hole. The sky was overcast, threatening rain.

“He won’t say much about what happened,” Raymond said.

“Neither will Hayley. What does Flora say? I really need to talk to her. I may have to pay her a surprise visit.”

“I think she regrets acting so hastily. She was trying to keep Hayley away from Walter. She still wants to keep them apart,” Raymond said.

“Oh, really.”

“And Hayley is supposed to be moving back to Chicago to live with Flora’s sister.”

“This is crazy, Pops. What about Uncle Walt?”

Raymond reached into his bag for a shorter golf club. He putted on the green. “He says if Flora forgives him, he’ll go back to her.”

Shaking his head, Ramion said, “I would think Flora would be concerned about the other girls. They’re just as pretty.”

“You think Walter would mess with them?”

“Pops, I don’t know what to think. It sounds like a volatile situation.”

“I don’t understand why he won’t talk to me about, you know, the rape,” Raymond said.

“Because he didn’t rape her, Pops. They were having sex, and Hayley got pregnant. Uncle Walt made her get an abortion.”

Raymond dropped his golf club. “I told Walter to stay away from that woman. And he’s thinking about getting back with her. He’s out of his mind,” Raymond said. “So what happens if Hayley leaves? Will she drop the charges?”

“It doesn’t matter, because the state will pursue it. He’s facing three to ten.”

“Son, I know Walter was in the wrong, but he needs you to stand by him. He’s family. You’ve got to help him.”

* * * * *

Bennigan’s was loud and noisy—bursts of laughter, excited voices, rock music playing, dishes clanging, television blasting. Sage and Ramion waited at the bar for a table in the popular restaurant. A young, happy-go-lucky waiter, an earring in his right ear, took their drink orders. Ramion ordered scotch and soda, and Sage a Grand Marnier on the rocks.

“Your hair looks good like that,” Ramion said.

Sage touched her hair; it was blow-dried straight and hung past her shoulders. “I thought I’d do something different. Miguel was surprised that I didn’t want it set.” She was dressed in a silk aqua pantsuit, the tunic-styled jacket accented with shimmering embroidery.

“So what do the security people think about these threats you’ve been receiving?” Ramion asked.

“They’re trying to trace the letters. In the meantime, they’ve beefed up security again. After the explosion, they’re treating all threats pretty seriously, which makes me feel better.”

“You still have to be careful, Sage,” he said, his voice filled with concern. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I’m very careful.”

“I know Cameron is excited about the flag bill.”

“It was so close. And it was a strange coincidence that Senator Bridges committed suicide when he should have been voting.”

“What’s the connection?”

“We didn’t know how he was going to vote. He could have swung it the other way.”