Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 127715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
“They were really in love,” I said softly. “Like, I’ve never seen anyone that in love.” I looked at him, but I didn’t really see him as I shared, “They’d move the furniture in the living room just so they could dance. And they’d dance. It might be ballroom. Or disco. Or slow dancing. They’d go for it, whatever mood they were in. They’d sit out on the porch, just talking, but they’d be holding hands. I was, um…a little kid, then a teenager, and erm…we can just say the walls are thin in this house, and I couldn’t help but hear…certain things…and hear them…a lot.”
“Right,” he said hurriedly to get me past that.
“At the time, that being the time the Dietrich thing was happening, I just thought they’d gotten scared, and they’d run.”
“Scared?”
“Of Dern. Of being investigated for the robbery.”
“So they took off, leaving you behind?”
“I was nineteen, Sheriff Moran—”
He interrupted me. “Harry.”
“Okay,” I said, feeling bashful (for goodness sake!). “Harry.”
Something flickered in his eyes when I spoke his name, but he just nodded to prompt me to go on.
“I was working at a gas station to save money to get my own apartment. Dad didn’t like that. Not the apartment part, working at the gas station. He didn’t think it was safe. I usually did nights, because it paid more, and he’d do nights too, driving by to check things out, coming in to hang with me. Eventually, he understood my need to do it. Mom really understood it. She’d sing The Chicks’ ‘Wide Open Spaces’ and say to Dad, ‘We know what that’s all about, don’t we, Sonny-mine?’”
I took in another breath at that treasured memory, because Lord, did I love to hear my mother sing…and call my dad “Sonny-mine.”
I let my breath out before I finished, “I was also taking online college courses to get my English degree. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be a teacher or a librarian.”
Neither of those happened, because suddenly, I needed to figure out how to keep a house, pay utility bills and feed myself on a gas station attendant’s salary.
“So, in other words, they didn’t take you because they didn’t want to interrupt your life,” Harry boiled it down for me.
“Yes, I think so.” I hoped so. “They planned. They took care of me. Like, they deeded this house to me.” I drifted a hand in front of me. “They put my name on the car. They gave me power of attorney to get to their bank accounts. There wasn’t much in them, but it helped when they…” I hated to say it, but I said it, “disappeared.”
“And they didn’t come back.”
“They didn’t come back,” I confirmed.
“And you never heard from them?”
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.
I was beginning to feel sick.
“No, I never heard from them,” I told him.
“And you didn’t report them missing?”
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.
“Until recently,” I began to remind him, “you weren’t the sheriff, Sheriff Moran.”
Understanding dawned on his face.
“They were being framed,” I stated. “I know it.” I didn’t, but I was pretty danged sure of it. “Dern had a thing for Mom. Mom only had eyes for Dad. I don’t know if he ever tried anything with her, but I sense he did, because she was really afraid of him. Dad was super ticked about it, but he was a handyman, not the county sheriff. And Dern was the kind of man you didn’t pick a fight with, even if you were in the right. He was also the kind of man who got what he wanted, even if he had to deal dirty to get it.”
“I know, Lillian,” Harry said soothingly.
“I think,”—I lifted my chin—“I know that they’re good no matter where they are because they’re together. They might not know Dern isn’t sheriff anymore. They might not know it’s safe to come back.”
This was all lame, and I knew Harry knew it by the look he was trying to hide on his face.
“And I’ve never had the money to hire a private investigator to find them,” I declared.
That was an outright lie.
I didn’t want to know what such a person would find.
My parents…they’d call.
They’d write.
I was in denial.
Epic denial.
Today, I had a feeling, I wasn’t going to be able to inhabit that space any longer.
“We did it before,” I said this defiantly, determined to hold on to hope until the bitter end. “We lived in LA before we moved here. We loved it there. Mom and Dad, they’re both from the Midwest. They met when Mom accidentally rear-ended Dad. They got out of their cars, took one look at each other, and they were married a week later. They call it instalove these days. And it was. Mom would dig that term. She’d get a T-shirt with it and Dad’s face on it, she’d loved it so much. After they got married, they moved to LA , had me, and it was all Disneyland and Knott’s Berry Farm and Mom always getting excited because we could go see a movie in the Chinese Theater like it was any ole movie theater.”