Love In a Small Town (33 page)

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Authors: Joyce Zeller

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BOOK: Love In a Small Town
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Chapter Thirty-four

 

After Violet left the house, Lynn followed her orders, knowing she'd have to endure another harangue if she didn't. She showered, washed her hair, held slices of cucumber on her eyelids for a half-hour, dressed, and arrived at the store shortly after noon.

The afternoon dragged as she spent time in the storeroom, unpacking and marking merchandise, agonizing over what to say to David to undo the damage she'd wrought.

It had taken a common sense talk from her friend to make her realize that she did have something to offer David and Sarah—what they needed beyond anything else—unconditional love and devotion.

What she was feeling went way beyond remorse. Enough time had passed for him to be seething with anger. She had betrayed his trust. Memories of the precious mornings they'd shared, the way they'd laughed and loved, enshrouded her in an acid cloak of despair. She wanted to plead and beg, but knew he'd never allow her near enough. No way could she go on without him. She'd get him back. She'd make him listen when she called him. Violet had the right of it. She'd wasted her life, wallowing in self-pity. It was time she got over it.

She drove home that afternoon determined to fix this. How empty her house looked and felt, with no anticipation of David's call, no plans for a loving reunion. Standing on the porch, outside the kitchen door, she hesitated, the key in her hand, wondering how she would ever get through the evening, until he was home from work.

She opened the door and turned on the light. "Meow?" Charlotte issued her unmistakably imperious summons, from where she sat on the kitchen counter. She had no tolerance for human drama. Her dish was empty. It required immediate attention.

Automatically, Lynn reached for one of the small cans stacked on the counter, opened it, and dumped it in the bowl on the floor. With a contented purr, Charlotte dove into the shrimp and salmon dinner; reminding Lynn she hadn't eaten anything all day. She needed food.

Eyeing the tomato on the windowsill, the lone survivor from this year's garden, she decided on a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich with peanut butter and mayonnaise—the last BLT until home-grown tomatoes became available next July.

Automatically she rounded up the ingredients, put two slices of bread in the toaster, and started frying bacon.

The phone rang. She ignored it. As she transferred bacon onto a towel and turned off the stove, she heard the answering machine and David's voice. She grabbed the wall phone.

"David? David, I'm here." Tears mingled with the joy in her voice. "I'm sorry. I love you. Please forgive me."

"Lynn, please don't hang up. I need your help. Sarah's gone. I don't know how to find her."

Lynn had trouble centering her thoughts. She was so intent on gaining David's forgiveness, she couldn't get her mind around this new calamity.

"Sarah's run away from home?"
Not possible. Never.

"No, no, not that. She and Logan were at Emily's house for the party, and she got a phone call, apparently from Jim Holder, and ran out of the house. There was a car. She got into it and nobody knows where she went." He was almost incoherent with panic.

Apologies would have to wait. Sarah's safety was more important. She owed David her strength and support.

"Where are you?"

"At home. I need you, Lynn. I don't know what to do."

"I'll be there in a few minutes."

She grabbed the keys to her car and ran out the door, leaving Charlotte to inspect the draining bacon with cautious interest.

 

Chapter Thirty-five

 

Lynn's car came to a skidding stop in a shower of gravel behind David's truck; her recklessness an obvious sign of how worried she was. The idea that Sarah would just take off without telling anyone where she was going didn't sound right.

Sarah wasn't irresponsible or thoughtless to this degree. Perhaps she misunderstood what David had said. No.
She rejected that idea.
The panic in his voice made it too real. Something terrible must be happening.

The house was dark, no lights anywhere—not a good sign. It meant he was sitting somewhere in the dark. She would expect the house lit up and him on the phone, unless he had received bad news.

Well, there was no other way but to go inside and find out. Entering by the kitchen door, cautiously, she stood for a moment, listening and allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Gradually she discerned a dim light and ventured further until she saw a glow coming from David's office. Heading in that direction, turning lights on as she went, she braced herself for what she might find.

He was slumped in his chair, holding Iris on his lap, one hand over his face. When he looked up, the sight of his misery broke her heart.

"David," she cried.

"Lynn, I didn't want to bother you, but I didn't know who to call."

She went toward him. "Sarah is very dear to me; of course you should call. Later, when we've found her, I'm going to beg your forgiveness for having behaved like a fool the last twenty-four hours. Tell me about Sarah."

He stood, putting Iris on the floor. "Christ, I'm so glad you're here," his voice was unsteady as he reached for her, pulling her close. "Sarah's in trouble and I don't know what to do." His voice broke.

She moved away from him, deliberately quelling her emotions to deal with the problem. "Sit down and tell me what happened." He sank into his seat and she pulled up a chair to sit beside him.

"They were all at Emily's house," he began.

Shame ate at her when she saw the effort it took for him to get a grip on his emotions. A lot of this was her fault.

"They were cooking burgers in the backyard to celebrate the success of the fashion show when Sarah got a phone call, I guess from Jim Holder. Ruth Paxton called me about it. I wasn't there."

He didn't need to tell her why. She could see the devastation and defeat she had wrought. She hadn't gone for the same reason. Would she ever be able to make this up to him? All the love in the world couldn't fix what she'd done. Something he said triggered a memory.

"Jim Holder?" she said, alarmed. "David, Anthony warned Sarah about him yesterday. I was there. He said Holder swore to get even with Sarah for the trouble she caused between him and his girlfriend. What's going on? What did he want?"

"What's a rave, Lynn?"

Puzzling over Holder's involvement, she barely heard his question and answered automatically. "I've never been to one, but I've heard about them, and what goes on, for years. Around here they're a big, outdoor, drinking and dancing party, with a lot of drugs and making out. They're usually held in a remote field large enough for about a hundred people and their cars or trucks.

"Somebody organizes it, puts out the word. Headlights are used to light up the field, and somebody brings a sound system for music. You pay admission to get in. A lot of people bring their own alcohol and the host provides water and juices."

"Juices? What for?"

Lynn hesitated. "Well, there's always someone selling drugs. Lately it's been Ecstasy more than anything else, which makes you really thirsty and if you don't drink enough it fries your brain."

"Oh, my God." David was stunned.

"There's other stuff there, too, like Oxy, or Roofies, the date-rape drug."

David shook his head in despair. "Could Sarah know what that stuff is? Would she know enough not to try it?"

Lynn took his hand, to reassure him. "She knows more than you give her credit for, I'm sure. Dakota told me drugs are common knowledge at school."

"How do you get to go to a rave?"

"Well, because of what it is, and the illegal stuff that goes on there, the location has to be a secret so the police can't find it. It's adults only, but teenagers manage to sneak in. You'd be surprised at who goes to these things.

"Sometimes the word gets around by posters that are like code. They advertise something ordinary, like a birthday party, but everybody knows what it really says. Around here it's word of mouth, or a classified ad in the paper saying one thing, but really meaning a rave. Wait a minute. Why do you want to know about raves?"

"I think Sarah's there."

"Oh, David. That's no place for a young girl like Sarah." She stood and started to pace. "How did Sarah hear about this, or worse, why would she go there? Damn, she's on probation. You're sure that's where she went?"

"I think so, from what Ruth said."

"We have to go get her. She can't be seen there. If she gets caught at a rave, she'll be arrested."

"She got this call from Holder," he said, calmer now. "I got better information when I talked to Ruth again. Emily overheard where she was going. Holder told her Madonna was at this rave, in trouble, strung out on drugs and needed to go to a hospital, but she wouldn't go unless Sarah came to be with her. She was insisting she needed Sarah."

"That's the most ridiculous story I've ever heard. These raves get pretty wild, but they don't get that out of hand. Sometimes, in other places, someone ODs and once-in-a-while kids die. Here, the organizer and his friends just load the troublemakers into a truck before things get violent, and drop them off in town."

Lynn paused in her explanation and stared at David, aghast, the truth finally hitting her. "Wait a minute. You're telling me Sarah believed this? That idiot. She fell for this lame story, and went there?"

He shook his head and shrugged, defeated. "You know how she is. The kids talked about it here at the house. She's loyal to a fault, and will go to the rescue of a friend who needs her. I wish you'd been there. Sarah needs a woman to talk some sense into her. She thinks I don't understand what her life is like."

Lynn held off the guilt. "I'm here from now on. Don't worry about us, my love. We're going to be okay. Right now we have to rescue Sarah."

Her anger blazed. Holder needed to be taught a lesson for putting Sarah in this kind of danger, and she was the one to do it.

"Did Sarah tell Ruth where?"

"No. Holder had called her from his cell phone and he pulled up at Emily's house about then. Ruth forbid her to go until she called me. Sarah yelled that she had to help Madonna because she was her friend. Logan grabbed her to try and stop her, but she broke loose, ran from the house, got in Holder's car and they drove off."

Lynn stared at the floor, eyes narrowed, as her mind began to get hold of the problem. "Sarah has this thing about sticking to her friends, and I'm sure that was in Holder's mind when he planned this. He's smart and he knew what to say to Sarah. His ego is just big enough to think he can get away with it. She didn't ask any questions?"

"Sarah is unsuspecting. Her mind doesn't work that way. She still can't accept what they did to her with the shoplifting. Like Dakota says, 'Sarah doesn't know there are people who like to hurt you just for the fun of it.'"

For a mere second Lynn prayed David didn't put her in that group. "We have to find her, and get her out of there before she suffers real harm."

Bitter memories of her own experience with violence surfaced, threatening to steal her resolve. She ruthlessly suppressed them with anger. No time for that now.

"Whatever this creep has in mind, it could get out of hand in a hurry. We've got to go out there. Drugged out party-goers sometimes behave like pack animals."

"But how? Where?"

"Okay," she said, thinking at warp speed. "First thing, I'm calling Violet. If she doesn't know where this rave is, maybe Norm will."

She used the phone on the desk. Violet answered on the first ring. "I need your help. Yes at David's and yes, we're together. Never mind, it's a long story. Look, Sarah's been tricked into going to a rave by a boy who means her real harm, and we've got to get her. How do I find out where it is?"

She looked at David. "She's asking Norm. He's right there." She listened for a moment and said, "If you have any luck, call me."

Turning to David, she said, "Norm says they've been after this guy who holds these things for a long time, but they've never been able to catch him. The locals protect him. I need to think who would know."

David rose to his feet and started pacing. His energy had returned, and with it, his spirit. She had never seen him so angry. His disheveled clothes and hair, and the two-day growth of beard looked menacing enough, but his cold, enraged expression was that of a man ready to kill.

"Lynn, who would know the location?"

Lynn ran through her mind's directory. "Someone who has lived in this county a long time, and knows the back roads, could help. Wait. Logan's dad grew up in this county!"

David reached for the phone and dialed. Logan answered.

"Logan, this is David Martin. We have to find Sarah. Can your dad help us?"

"Yes, sir. I came home when Sarah wouldn't listen to me and asked my dad. He's looking in the local paper because he says that's how the word gets around. I think he's found the ad. Here, he'll talk to you."

"Hello?"

"Mr. Biesterman? This is David Martin, Sarah's dad."

"We have us a situation here." His voice had the flat draw of a native Arkansan.

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