A Life for a Life by Lynda McDaniel (best selling autobiographies .txt) 📖

Jake ran down the steps and gave me a big kiss. Like we hadn’t just seen each other. I didn’t want to like him at first. Well, it was really that I was afraid to like him. Daddy had a pack of beagles he used to hunt with: Missy, Sissy, Prissy, and Fuzzy (the only boy dog). I grew up with them dogs (and named them), and when they got old and died, I just about died right along with them. I swore I wouldn’t get close to another dog, because you’d look in those big brown eyes and just knowed the pain that was waitin’ down the road.

But after I thought about it, I decided it were a sin to do that. I didn’t use that word very often, unlike the folks at Mama’s church. They thought everything that was different was a sin. One day I told Mama I wudn’t going no more because those people despised anything that was different, and I was different, so I wadn’t hanging out with people like that. She looked sad, but nodded. I couldn’t believe it, her giving in that easy. No telling what she’d heard people say about me behind her back—or about her, too. She gave birth to me, after all. She got enough comfort from the church to keep going, but I was glad she’d eased up on me.

I only used that word when I needed the strongest word I could think of. Not like you were going to hell or nothin’, just that what I was talking about was real serious. Like about it being a sin to avoid love because of the pain that surely laid ahead. Besides, I tried not to look too far into the future, because that’s when I got myself in a terrible state. I tried to live one day at a time. That’s what my Uncle Abe, Ned’s dad, always said after one of his binges, when he was all sorry about how he’d acted. 

So I figured Jake and me were friends, and I just wanted to enjoy the time we had together. When I rubbed him behind the ears and scratched down either side of his spine, his back legs went kinda limp. I wished I knew how good that felt.

“Hey, I hate to break up this little love fest,” Della said to me and Jake, “but we need to get rolling. You ready? What did your father say?”

Earlier, Della had told Daddy that she’d pay me to ride along and help her whenever she needed supplies, depending on how far we had to go and how much I had to haul. He seemed surprised that anyone would pay me good money, but he’d agreed. He even said that as long as I was working on the clock, I didn’t have to get his permission every time. This trip was a little longer, so I asked him, just to be on the safe side. “He told me not to get into any trouble.”

“We’ll try not to,” Della said, raising her eyebrow the way she did when she was joking. She put up the Sorry sign again, but said she’d been able to catch Billie, and she’d come over and open back up in a little while. We piled into the truck like always—me shotgun, Jake in the middle, Della behind the wheel. She handed me a map with our route marked in yellow. “Okay, co-pilot, watch for any turns. And do you want to stop and see your cousins while we’re there?”

“Uh, not really. I wudn’t planning on it.” 

“Abit, there’s no D in was not.”

“Okay, whatever. I hate to say it, but my cousins are more than a little strange. Ned, he’s the nice one, but he’s from Mama’s side of the family; these cousins are Daddy’s.”

She seemed to get it. And when I thought about it, I hadn’t seen any of her relatives visitin’, either.

We drove what felt like forever on that windy old road, but pretty soon I spotted the sign “Westend – A Peak Place to Live – population 4,895.” The town had a pretty little square with grass and flowers and such, plus a few shops round it. We found a small police department just off the square. 

Inside, a man wearing a badge looked up from his desk when we came in. I was waiting for him to snarl at us like Brower would’ve, but he kinda smiled and asked if he could help. The sign on his desk said he was Ralph McGurk. And I thought Vester was a stupid name! At least it didn’t sound like something Jake said after his dinner.

“Well, I hope you can. I was wondering if you’d had anyone reported missing in the past month. Someone by the name of Lucy,” Della told him.

“And you are ...?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m Della Kincaid and this is V.J. Bradshaw.” You could have knocked me over with a feather! Where in the world did she come up with that name? “We’re from Laurel Falls, where I found a dead woman.” She paused when his eyebrows shot up. “Oh dear, that’s some introduction, isn’t it? Let me start at the beginning.”

Oncet she’d told him the whole story, she asked if Brower had sent him anything about that. He explained that the state had sent out a notice, but he hadn’t paid much attention, since no one was missing. Or at least no one had reported anyone missing.

“This is a small community. We know each other pretty well, and word gets around.” He looked at me and asked, “Any relation to the Bradshaws here, son?” I didn’t want to lie, but I didn’t want to get into a family reunion either. I nodded, and he seemed to be a good people reader. He just nodded back. Must’ve known them the way I did.

“Well, we found this in her laundry—it was tucked inside that small watch pocket, but it was washed and dried. She died before she could retrieve her laundry.”

“Yep, it looks as though she did get some cash from our local bank. Did Brower see this?”

“He’s turned a blind eye to everything we’ve shown him. He prefers his case closed as a suicide.”

“To be honest, ma’am, based on what you’ve told me, it does appear to be a suicide. I can’t blame him for that, though the notes ...” He paused, like he was thinking of something. “I honestly can’t think of anyone who might know this girl. I’m sorry. One idea, though. If you’ve driven all this way, why not spend a few bucks on an ad in the local newspaper? You might find someone who lives farther out or who didn’t realize a family member was missing. Folks go on camping trips or the like and aren’t missed right away.”

Della thanked him for everything, and we said our goodbyes. Oncet outside the office, she looked right and left, like she was looking for that newspaper office. “Are you hungry?” she asked.

“Always.” 

She laughed. “Me, too.” We found a great diner where I got a big barbecue sandwich and fries and coleslaw. I needed a couple of Coca-Colas to wash it all down—that vinegary sauce caught in the back of my throat, but I loved it. Della got a bowl of Brunswick stew, which smelled pretty good. Daddy’d told me they made that with squirrel meat, but that musta been back when he was a kid. I didn’t mention that to Della, though, just in case. Jake woulda loved it, but he had to settle for some of my fries. Her bowl was clean.

“Now let’s go place that ad—the one you’d already thought of,” she said, patting my back.

We found the newspaper office behind the drugstore. It cost just over twelve dollar to place an ad that would run for a couple of weeks. I even helped write it. And I gave Della a five-dollar bill, which she wouldn’t accept. I kept at her, and she finally took it.

The ad started with thick black letters asking, “Do You Know Lucy?” The rest of it said, “If you know a woman, aged 20+, long dark hair, who went camping in Laurel Falls in April, please call.” Della added her name and phone number.

Sure made me sad, thinking about somebody reading that and starting to worry real bad. Like their day was going along just fine: a cup of coffee, an easy chair, reading the paper, and then, wham! Life would never be the same. Della musta been thinkin’ the same thing because she treated me to some ice cream at the drugstore counter. Butter pecan helped get me back on track. 

On the way home, we were both pretty quiet. I spent some time thinking about V.J. After trying it out in my head for a while, I said, “I like it.”

“You like what?”

“V.J.”

“Oh, good. I think it’s kind of dapper.” I must’ve looked funny because she added, “I mean, cool.” I’m pretty sure that’s the first time that word had ever been used about me.

Closer to home, Della veered off at the Cash ‘n’ Carry, where we picked up some goods. I was happy ‘cause that meant I’d get to unload them and hang out inside the store a while longer.

“This has been the best day of my life,” I told Della, as I was heading up to the house. At first, she looked kinda happy, then a little sad, for some reason.

Chapter 30: Della

“Is this the person looking for Lucy?” a woman asked.

Almost a week after our trip to Westend, I picked up the phone around mid-morning. I thought Cleva was calling back after having to hang up to deal with a repairman. “Hey, Cleva. What time ... uh, yes, this is Della Kincaid.”

“She’s my sister.” Long pause before the caller continued, “She came here for a visit, then left to head down your way. Is she all right?”

Over the years, I’d been in the middle of a lot of bad news, but this was the hardest I’d faced. My throat closed up, and I couldn’t speak. I swallowed a time or two and finally found my voice. “No.”

We talked a while longer, and I filled her in on what I knew. When she said she wanted to come to Laurel Falls, I mentioned that Lucy’s body was in Asheville. I had my wits enough by then to leave out the words in the morgue.

“I can go there after,” she said. “I want to meet you. You found her. And cared enough to come here, to try to locate her family.” I gave her directions to the store and hung up. Just as the phone hit the cradle, I realized I didn’t know her name or when she was coming.

When a stranger walked into the store later that afternoon, we knew each other immediately. Lucy’s image had been branded on my brain, so I had no trouble identifying a sister who shared her long dark hair and creamy complexion. And large brown eyes, though hers were rimmed in red.

“Della?”

“Hello—and as soon as