Page 15 of Small Town Hero
“B ecky,” Susannah said firmly, standing in front of her sister’s chair in the small room she’d occupied since her admission to the psychiatric ward of Community Hospital. “Look at me.”
Becky lifted her face, and her gaze landed on the tattered notebook Susannah was holding out, then bounced up to meet Susannah’s.
She said nothing, though she did glance Ian’s way, and recognition showed in her otherwise hollow eyes.
Beside Susannah, Ian shifted slightly, but said nothing.
Becky’s shoulders slumped, and her chin wobbled. “You know, then,” she murmured, in a voice as broken as her mind. “About Roy?”
She was referring, Susannah knew, to Roy Pendleton, Becky’s no-good, waste-of-skin ex-husband. And, unfortunately, very possibly Ellie’s biological father.
“Yes,” Susannah replied simply. She dropped the notebook into Becky’s lap, pulled up another chair, and sat down to face her sister. Then, before going on, she took out her phone and set it to a voice-recording app. “I had no idea you knew Roy when we were kids.”
In the next moment, shame splashed across Becky’s face.
Then she nodded. “He lived in that big house across the fields from the lake cottage Mom and Dad used to lease every summer—with his grandparents.”
Susannah sat back in her chair, sighed. This was more than Becky had said in weeks, if not months, and although the words came out ragged, there was an undercurrent of courage flowing beneath them.
Ian’s hand came to rest on Susannah’s shoulder, and that gave her the strength to press on. “What was he like?”
Becky expelled a breath, a sound of mingled disgust and sorrow.
“Roy was a terrible person, a bully,” she responded, after some time and with obvious difficulty.
“But he had all the grown-ups fooled. He was popular in high school and he had all kinds of friends. He used to mow the lawn at the cottage every weekend, in fact—Mom and Dad thought he was great—so we kind of knew him, you and I both. You were young, so maybe you’ve forgotten. ”
It was true. She had forgotten Roy,
Exhausted, both emotionally and physically, Becky paused then, shaking a little.
Tears wet her cheeks, and her nose was running.
Susannah waited as patiently as she could, though her own nerves were pulled so taut she thought they might snap. Maybe she and her sister could share a room here in the psych ward.
Anxious to hear Becky’s version of the story she’d pieced together from entries in the notebook and the memories the nightmare had sparked, she rummaged through her purse, handed Becky a packet of tissues.
Presently, Becky went on. “O-one day,” she stammered, “when Mom got a call from a neighbor, just down the road, she sort of panicked and rushed off, telling me to keep an eye on you until she got back.”
Susannah vaguely remembered that; an old lady their mother knew from church had called, evidently in the midst of some crisis.
Becky continued, after another long pause.
“We should have stayed in the yard. We weren’t supposed to go into the water or the woods without an adult close by—i.e.
, Mom or Dad—but I was a stupid kid.” She shook her head.
Waited a few tremulous beats. The energy she was expending must have been of epic proportions.
“We were following a path through the trees, and all of a sudden, you ran ahead of me, laughing when I yelled at you to come back.”
Susannah’s stomach did a flip. She’d recalled this part, after the nightmare, when parts of the story began to unfold in her mind. And she dreaded hearing it verified.
“He was there, in the field—Roy Pendleton, I mean. I guess it was more of a clearing, really, because nothing had been planted there in years, according to Dad. Anyway, he was with two of his friends—” Becky closed her eyes tightly and trembled so hard that Susannah slid to the edge of her chair and pulled her sister into a brief, tight hug.
By then, Ian had retreated to a third chair, now holding Susannah’s phone.
“Two of them were wearing these horrible masks—those awful ones with lumps and scars and bloodstains, and—” Becky broke down then, completely, and began to sob, though she managed to choke out, “And Roy was getting ready to pull his on over his head.”
Susannah filled in the conversational gap. “And they were burying something—or someone ,” she said. “Right there in the field, alongside some tall bushes.”
Becky managed a nod. “Where the blackberries grew. That was where we were headed, initially.”
Time was running out; if they didn’t finish this terrible exchange soon, a nurse or orderly would enter the room and advise Susannah and Ian to leave, immediately.
“Th-they grabbed you, Susannah—they were laughing like fiends—tossing you back and forth between them. Laughing and laughing.” Becky stopped, shook her head again.
“They were about to throw you into the hole they’d dug, when I tore off a branch of thistles and hit Roy with it, screaming for them to stop. To leave my sister alone.
“In the confusion—I got Roy good, he was bleeding through his T-shirt—and he came at me. By then, he’d thrown aside his mask and honest to God, I think he meant to kill me. Kill both of us.”
“That was when I got away,” Susannah supplied numbly. “The other two guys were distracted by your attack on Roy. You screamed at me to run, and I did. I was so afraid.” She stopped, met Ian’s calm gaze for a moment, found strength in it, then asked, “Why didn’t they chase us, Becky?”
Just then, she was realizing how deeply she’d suppressed all memory of that terrible day. Maybe, in her own way, she’d been as traumatized as Becky; she’d simply reacted differently.
“They did chase us,” Becky said quietly, probably picking up on Ian’s grounding energy herself.
Drawing from it. “Roy caught me by the hair and yanked my head back. He said if I ever told anybody about that hole by the bushes, he’d kill you and bury you along with the last person who’d crossed him.
Then he’d finish Mom and Dad and everybody else I loved. ”
Susannah closed her eyes.
So there had been a body lying in that makeshift grave. Were there others, long-hidden and overgrown by weeds and grass?
“You believed him?” Susannah said. It wasn’t actually a question, more of a statement, though it was followed by, “You’ve kept a secret like that all these years? Mom and Dad would have known what to do, Becky. They would have kept us safe.”
“Would they?” Becky countered, looking and sounding completely sane, as though revealing and acknowledging the truth had brought her back from wherever she’d been since her most recent collapse. “You have no idea what Roy Pendleton is capable of, Susannah. No idea at all.”
“Fill me in,” Susannah said, her voice tightening. She was partly relieved and partly infuriated with Becky for not immediately telling the truth about what happened.
But, then, she hadn’t told anyone, either. And, soon enough, she’d repressed the experience entirely.
“For years after that incident in the clearing, Roy made a game of putting on that mask and peering at me through windows, always at night, of course. He’d tilt his head back and forth, like the madman he was, and then put a finger to his lips, warning me to keep quiet or else.”
“For years,” Susannah echoed. “We were only at the lake cottage in the summertime.”
“It happened in Chicago, too, Susannah,” Becky said.
“And yet you married that monster?” All the disbelief Susannah felt was evident in her voice.
Ian caught her eye and raised his brows. “Easy,” he mouthed.
Susannah drew a deep breath. Let it out very slowly. “Becky, how could you have actually married him, knowing what you knew?”
“He showed up at the café where I was working at the time, nicely dressed and looking like a preacher. There was actual kindness in his eyes. He ordered coffee and told me he was sorry for scaring us that summer.” Becky seemed to be drifting now, gliding back toward some hiding place in her brain.
“He said they were burying a dog they’d found dead along the roadside that day, that was all.
And he claimed he hadn’t been the one to haunt me, on and off for years.
Said it was probably one of his friends. He really did seem sorry.”
“And then?” Susannah prompted, feeling sick to her stomach.
“And then,” Becky said, her words coming out weighted and slow, “one thing led to another, and we got married.”
“My God,” Susannah exclaimed, though quietly. They had to get the whole story recorded, find a way to make a case, before some staff member picked up on Becky’s distress and sent her and Ian packing. “ Why , Becky? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You would have disapproved, like Mom and Dad did.”
Susannah gave a sigh, exasperated. “Whatever,” she said. “Anyway, you’ve always been pretty, and guys fell for you right and left. Why choose him, of all people?”
Becky met her sister’s gaze. “I really thought he’d changed,” she said sadly. “Mom and Dad were pissed because I refused to go to college, among other things, so I couldn’t bring myself to ask for their help.”
Since Becky now seemed about to nod off, or float away into some other dimension or realm, Susannah had to struggle to keep herself from gripping her sister’s shoulders and shaking her. Hard.
Fortunately, that wasn’t necessary, because suddenly Becky rallied and went on.
“He didn’t seem to mind that Ellie wasn’t his child—I told him about Dave, the guy I dated before him.
One thing led to another, and Roy said he liked Arizona, and it was a good place to raise a kid, so we moved here—to Copper Ridge, I mean.
I loved it here, especially after Ellie was born.
I had mom-friends, and a job, working nights at the Rocking Rocket Saloon, serving drinks, and the tips were better than all right. ”
Susannah, though profoundly relieved by the revelation that Ellie didn’t share Roy Pendleton’s despicable genes, felt drained, broken. She remembered the feel of Ian’s arms around her, in the kitchen back at the ranch, and found solace in the recollection. In his nearness.
Except for a hello directed at Becky, he hadn’t said a single word since they’d stepped into the room almost an hour before, yet the way he listened was almost palpable, a powerful force in its own right.
“But things didn’t work out, between you and Roy?” Susannah prompted carefully. Of course she knew they hadn’t; knew Becky’s insane husband had deserted the family after a few years. But she wanted the full story.
Becky shook her head. “We were okay for a while.
Then, he quit his truck-driving job and took to haunting the local bars, including the Rocket, at all hours of the day and night.
One evening, when I was off work because Ellie had a fever, he came home in a mood, stinking of booze and acting like a wild man.
He accused me of cheating, and bounced me off the walls a few times.
“I was scared for Ellie, and for myself, so I told him to leave or I’d call the cops. And that set him off all over again. I guess it reminded him of what had happened that day in the clearing.
“He left, and I was grateful, but then the harassment started up again. He’d just appear at the living room or bedroom window, always after dark, or in the parking lot at the Rocket when I got off work at two in the morning.
He wore those hideous masks, and every time, he reminded me to keep my mouth shut. ”
Becky looked directly at Susannah, and her voice was surprisingly strong when she spoke again.
“Finally, he started sending texts from various burner phones—texts with pictures of you , Susannah. In Chicago, out with your friends, in the supermarket, playing with Nico –stuff like that. He was letting me know that he could hurt you anytime he chose. And that’s when I finally broke down—too many things were coming at me from too many directions—I was terrified for you, for Ellie and for myself.
Ellie was having problems at school, and I lost one job after another. ”
At last, Ian entered the conversation. “Have you seen Pendleton recently?” he asked. “Or heard from him?”
“No,” Becky answered, with another shake of her head and a shudder. She looked small and defeated, a bird with a broken wing, ready to give up. Susannah suspected her sister would have done exactly that, if it hadn’t been for Ellie, and, undeniably, for Susannah herself.
Sure enough, Becky stiffened in the next instant. “Where is Ellie right now? Is she safe?”
“Your daughter is fine,” Ian assured her. “In the care of a good friend of mine.”
Becky’s gaze traveled quickly between Ian’s face and Susannah’s. “You trust this friend?” she asked, of both of them.
It was Ian who replied. “She’s looking after my kids, too. Believe me, she won’t let anyone hurt them.”
Susannah recalled her meeting with Erma Carlson back at the ranch, and silently agreed. Erma was a big woman, muscular and confident; she’d take good care of Ellie, Vivian, Mabel and even Dub.
Just then, a nurse appeared in the doorway.
“Time’s up,” she said cheerfully. “Ms. Bennet needs to rest.”
Ian nodded, but said nothing.
“What happens now?” Becky asked. Since she was looking at Ian, instead of Susannah, he was the one to answer.
“We let the police take it from here,” he said, already thumbing the screen of his phone. “And you take hold and start living your life again, for your own sake and for Ellie’s.”
Becky’s face shown with a soft, fragile smile. “I’m going to be strong from now on,” she vowed, gazing at Susannah. “Like my sister.”