She pulled away from him. “My parents think I’m at home.”
“Mine, too.”
“Did you get suspended from school?”
“No.”
“They should suspend you,” she said. “My dad says you’re a total loser.”
“Yeah,” he said, wishing she hadn’t finished the drink. “My dad, too.”
She said, “He moved out of the house tonight.”
“Your dad?”
“He just packed his bags and left while I was at the mall. My mom said he was moving in with that woman from work.” She hiccupped softly. “She wouldn’t stop crying.”
Mary Alice was crying, too, but he was still at a loss as to how to comfort her. Finally, he said, “I’m sorry.”
“I called him at the number he left,” she told John. “Some girl answered.”
John’s tongue wouldn’t move in his mouth. What should he say?
“He said he’d see me on the weekends. He says Mindy will take me shopping.”
John repeated, “I’m sorry.”
“Why do you hang around with that jerk?” Mary Alice asked.
“Who?” John turned around, following her gaze to Woody. His cousin practically fell off the back stairs as he walked toward them. He laughed at his lack of coordination, so John laughed, too.
“Wet your whistle,” Woody said, handing John another drink.
John took a sip, trying to pace himself because his head was already swimming.
“Hey, girlie,” Woody said, leaning against John as he stared at Mary Alice. “What took you so long? I was beginning to think my cousin here made you up.”
John started to make introductions, but something stopped him. He didn’t like the way Woody was looking at her, the open lust in his eyes. The guy already had Alicia back in the house ready to do whatever he wanted and now he was going after Mary Alice. It wasn’t fair.
“We were just going,” John said, taking Mary Alice’s hand as if she belonged to him.
“So soon?” Woody asked, and John realized he was blocking their way. “Come on back inside with your old cousin Wood. I got something for you.”
“I don’t think so.” John threw the empty cup into the yard. “I should take her home. Her mom will be looking for her.”
“Just a little hit,” Woody insisted. “Or another, I guess I should say.” He winked at Mary Alice. “Think you can handle a drink, sweetheart? Might help dry those pretty blue eyes of yours.”
Mary Alice looked odd. She was smiling, almost flirting. “I wasn’t crying.”
“Sure, babydoll.”
“Woody,” John began, but Woody put his hand over John’s mouth to stop him, telling Mary Alice, “This one likes to talk too much.”
She laughed, and John felt his anger spark up. She was laughing with Woody. She was laughing at him.
Woody asked, “You think you can handle a little drink, little girl?”
Her lips went into this sexy kind of half-smile. “I can handle it.”
“Mary Alice,” John said.
Woody had taken away his hand and wrapped his arm around Mary Alice’s shoulders. He licked his lips as he looked down her shirt, telling John, “Shut up, Cousin.”
Mary Alice laughed. “Yeah, John, shut up.”
Woody pulled her closer in and she tilted up her head. He kept his eyes locked on John’s as he pressed his open mouth to Mary Alice’s.
She started to kiss him back and John felt like somebody had ripped his heart out of his chest. He stood helpless as Woody’s hand went down Mary Alice’s blouse, cupped her breast like groping her was something he did every day. His mouth got wider against Mary Alice’s and she jerked away, coming to her senses a second later than she should have.
She yelled, “Stop it!” as she tumbled toward John.
John caught her, holding her up. The button had ripped off her shirt where Woody’s hand had reached inside.
“You’re disgusting,” she told Woody, clasping the blouse closed, tears springing into her eyes.
Woody was smiling. “Come on, baby. Don’t be like that.”
“I can’t believe you,” she cried. “Your tongue is disgusting.”
His smile became more sinister. “Watch it now.”
She curled in closer to John, crying, “Please, take me home.”
John started to lead her away, his eyes on Woody, not liking the way his cousin was staring at them.
“Get back here,” Woody ordered, reaching out for her again.
“Leave her alone!” John yelled, fists clenched. Woody had about a hundred pounds on him but John firmly believed he could and would kick his ass if he so much as touched another hair on Mary Alice’s head.
“Whoa.” Woody held up his hands, taking a step back. “Didn’t know you’d already claimed her, little man. Go on. Take her home to her mommy.”
“Stay away from her,” John warned. “I mean it.”
“No hard feelings,” Woody said, but he was still leering at Mary Alice like a lion who had been denied its prey. “Best man wins.”
“Damn straight.”
“Here,” Woody said, digging into his front pocket. “Parting gift.” He tossed a bag of powder to John. “No hard feelings, right, Cousin?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
FEBRUARY 6, 2006
John had found out about the news story by accident. He had been vacuuming out the cargo space of a mud-splattered Subaru Forrester. He picked up a stack of newspapers to throw in the trash and the whole pile fell from his hand like playing cards scattered on a table. He bent down to gather up the pages and saw two words he had never noticed before: Local Edition.
The Subaru’s owner was from Clayton County, but John knew if there was a special insert for one town, there had to be one for the others.
He had told Art he was having stomach problems so he could leave work early and headed straight downtown to the main branch of the Fulton County Public Library. The newspaper’s online archive required a credit card for access, so instead he requested microfiche of the Gwinnett County local editions going back the last three months. Two hours later, he’d found what he was looking for. The story was dated December 4,2005.
SNELLVILLE GIRL ABDUCTED
FROM LOCAL NEIGHBORHOOD.
There weren’t many details. No name was mentioned, just the age—fourteen—and that she had been walking from her home to visit an aunt down the street. Obviously, the family wasn’t talking to the press and there was no mention of suspects or leads the police were following. John scanned the next few weeks and found only one more story. This one added the detail that the girl had been found hiding in a ditch the next day.
John’s heart had been in his throat from the moment he’d found the article. Slowly, he put the pieces of the puzzle together. Ben’s game of what-if kept coming back to mind. What if Woody had been using John’s identity to cover his tracks for the last six years? What if Woody had assumed John would never get out of prison? What if Woody found out John was walking among the free and had decided to do something about it?