Here and Gone(46)

Audra’s mouth dried. She imagined the cold sweetness of wine on her tongue. The feel of it in her throat.

‘He stays out of my way when I’m drunk,’ she said. ‘He tells me I’m shit when I’m hungover in the morning. Then when he comes home from work, he brings me more. Wine, usually, sometimes vodka.’

Sister Hannah was quiet for a moment, then she asked, ‘Does he get you the pills too?’

‘Yes,’ Audra said. ‘What I don’t understand is: Why? Why does he keep me around? What good am I to him? If I’m not a mother or a wife, what am I for?’

Another silence. Audra could feel Sister Hannah’s gaze on her back.

‘Tell me, do you have any friends?’

‘No,’ Audra said. ‘Not anymore.’

‘But you used to.’

‘Before we were married. But Patrick didn’t like them.’

‘So you and your friends drifted apart,’ Sister Hannah said.

‘Yeah.’

‘Do you ever go out without Patrick? To the store, for a walk, anywhere?’

‘No,’ Audra said.

‘Has he ever hit you?’

Audra felt herself shrink down into the pillow, withering under the sheets. ‘Sometimes. Not often.’

She felt Sister Hannah’s hand on her shoulder. ‘Audra, listen to me very carefully. You are not the first woman to go through this. God knows, you won’t be the last. I’ve seen all kinds of abuse. Believe me, beatings aren’t the only kind. Your husband is an enabler. He’s keeping you drunk and drugged, so you’ll be quiet and easier to manage. He doesn’t love you, but for whatever reason, he can’t let you leave. You have to understand, he’s holding you prisoner. The alcohol and the medication are what keep you tied down.’

‘What can I do?’ Audra asked. ‘How do I get out?’

‘Leave. Just go. When you’re discharged from this hospital, don’t go home. I can get you a place in a refuge where you’ll be safe. Patrick won’t be able to touch you there.’

‘But my children …’

‘You can’t help them until you help yourself. You need to get well, then you can worry about them.’

‘I want to sleep now,’ Audra said, and she burrowed down into the bed. She was gone before the nun left the room.





23


DANNY TOOK A bite of the club sandwich. Wasn’t bad. Pretty good bacon, turkey wasn’t too dry. He’d slipped the sliced tomatoes out from between the toasted bread and left them on the plate. Danny didn’t like tomatoes.

The waitress stopped at his booth by the window to freshen his coffee. Tasted pretty good too. But the service was slow. He guessed this place hadn’t seen so much business in years.

‘Thank you,’ he said. He dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. ‘Say, what’s going on around here?’

The waitress – her nametag said SHELLEY – laughed, then the smile dropped from her face. ‘You don’t know?’

Danny looked back out to the street, at the reporters wandering around like zombies looking for a scent of flesh. ‘Know what?’

‘Sorry, I just assumed …’ She waved a hand in front of his face. ‘I mean, you’re not from around here, so I assumed you were a reporter. Like them.’

Danny smiled and said, ‘No, I’m just passing through. Lady in a store out the road said you had good coffee. She was right. So what’s happening here?’

‘Oh my God,’ Shelley said, sliding into the seat opposite him, coffee pot in hand. ‘It’s terrible. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life. I mean, this little town, what’s left of it, biggest news is if someone farts in public.’

Danny snorted.

Shelley lowered her voice, hooked a thumb toward the counter. ‘Couple days ago, Sheriff Whiteside pulls this woman over.’

Danny glanced across the room, saw the sheriff. A big man, wide at the shoulders and waist. Sat on that stool like it was a throne, and he the king of the land.

‘He found drugs in the car,’ Shelley continued in a loud whisper. ‘News said it was pot, enough for a dealer, but I heard there was more. Like cocaine and crystal meth, and whatnot. So he takes her in. Turns out she left New York three or four days before with her two children, but they weren’t in the car when Ronnie, the sheriff, when he pulled her over. She has a history, mental problems and like that, and they reckon she did something to the kids, maybe out in the desert somewhere.’

‘Jesus,’ Danny said. ‘What do they think happened?’

‘Lord knows,’ Shelley said, shaking her head. ‘But they got the state police and the FBI here investigating. I hate to think what she did to those poor children. I pray they’re alive somewhere, but I don’t believe it in my heart. Not really.’

‘You think she hurt them?’

‘Oh, she killed them,’ Shelley said. ‘Sure as you and me are sitting here, she took the lives of those little ones. If only she’d tell what she did with the bodies, then we’d all know. How’s that sandwich?’

‘Good,’ Danny said.

‘You’re lucky you got anything. Harvey, my boss, he had to drive all the way to Phoenix last night to pick up supplies. We ain’t seen this kind of business since before the copper mine closed. Got to the point last night that I couldn’t even pour a cup of coffee.’