A Life for a Life by Lynda McDaniel (best selling autobiographies .txt) š
- Author: Lynda McDaniel
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Jake grabbed a spot at the foot of the bed. We were finally alone. Iād told my story for the last time (at least for that day), but that didnāt stop me from replaying it over and over. I kept hearing Brower barking orders at the clearing.
Heād swaggered around the scene, looking at me with suspicion and telling Gregg OāDonnell to stay out of his way. His head shaved in classic jarhead fashion, Brower was one of those former Marines who never got over it. He treated everyone in the county as though we were inexperienced recruits in need of a dose of Semper Fi.
āBack off, Brower,ā Gregg said for no specific reason, other than because someone needed to rein him in. Gregg was usually cool-headed, but Brower couldāve made a coma patient angry. āCleva Hall called me because she didnāt know what else to do. None of us knew what had happenedāor where. We all thought this happened on Forest Service land.ā
Gregg was being kind, not mentioning that Iād written Laurel Falls Wilderness on the note Jake delivered. Thatās how he got involved. How was I to know Iād wandered into land owned by the state? That made it Browerās responsibility. He hadnāt dealt with a real crime since Adamās Rib was robbed, and he was enjoying himself. Never mind a young woman was dead.
Actually, I was glad I hadnāt known. I was grateful it was Gregg who arrived first. He got out of his truck and threw his arms around me, holding me tight while I tried, unsuccessfully, not to cry. He told me Jake had stopped at Clevaāsāher land lay on his path homeāand barked for her to come to the door. I looked back at Jake, closed up in Greggās truck so he wouldnāt disturb the scene, and blew him a kiss.
While we waited on the sheriff, Gregg tucked me inside his truck, next to Jake. He handed me an army-green blanket and cranked the heater to high. I started to thaw. I put my arm around Jake and rubbed my face against his, his dog breath like life-affirming perfume.
It took Brower only twenty minutes to show. He grilled me as though I were a suspect, asking me what I was doing that deep in the woods by myself, as though heād been hanging out with Mildred and her buddies. We went through all the particulars, and he abruptly concluded my interview. āIām done with you for now. Oh, one more thing. You didnāt touch anything, did you?ā
āJust her carotid,ā I lied. āI needed to see if she were alive.ā
āAnd just what would you have done if she were?ā Brower asked, his lip curling.
āCP frigging R.ā
Brower glared. He never liked me, mostly because Iād bought Coburnās. Iām sure he and his father (who owned the SuperMart out on the highway) had been rubbing their hands together as Coburnās faltered. By the time it went on the market, the store was a dusty relic of its glory days, not unlike the old tractor slowly returning to the earth outside of Vesterās barn. Browerās father put in a bid on the store, but Vester chose mine. And since Iād begun to draw customers back, Brower must have figured I was a threat to his inheritance. I wished.
āOne of my men will drive you home,ā Brower said. āIāll be there in about an hour, so donāt go anywhere.ā
āIāll take her,ā Gregg said, climbing into the truck and slamming the door. When I joined him, he took a few deep breaths to check his anger and began driving slowly over the bumpy old logging road. We were both quiet as we made our way out of the forest. Gregg was first to break the silence. āSorry you had to experience that, Della.ā
āMe too,ā I said, my voice shaking, his kindness harder to take than Browerās bravado. I started to cry again.
Gregg pulled the truck into a turnout and stopped. Jake whimpered and tried to lick my face, but I pushed him away. God, his breath smelled horrible; so much for its life-affirming qualities. Then I remembered he was a hero and hugged him. He tried again, and I let him lick away.
āWell, that helped,ā I said, wiping my face and smearing dirt through the tears. I stroked Jake and added, āHeās some dog, isnāt he?ā
āThat he is. Youāre lucky heās so damn smart. By the way, when I got to Clevaās, she had him resting on the sofa by the fire, feeding him homemade biscuits.ā Gregg looked at his watch. āSpeaking of which, would you like to get something to eat? Itās getting on to suppertime.ā
āIām not very hungry. Besides, Iāve got to be back for Brower.ā
āTo hell with Brower. You need something to eat. You got a bad chill out there.ā He looked over, his mouth twitching with the beginnings of a smile. āAnd I have to admit, Iām starving.ā He drove us to Geri Cantwellāsāone of the best diners in North Carolina, just outside the park perimeter. It made all the guidebooks and rarely disappointed. I was starting to look forward to some of her homemade chicken soup when I saw all the cars in her parking lot.
I couldnāt face all the questions. āDo you think people know about this by now?ā
āDoes a wild bear shit in the woods? They knew a couple of hours ago, Iām sure,ā Gregg said. āJakeās antics are legendary. Word of that alone spread fast. Add in a dead body, and it reached the speed of light. How about we get it to go? You can lie on the seat so no one sees you.ā
āWhat will you tell everyone?ā
āOh, that I took you home, that Brower froze me out, and theyāll have to pester him with their questions. Thatāll shut āem up.ā He did smile that time.
Somehow I got Jake to hunker down in the floor of the cab, while I stretched across the wide vinyl seat of Greggās government-issue Ford Ranger. Next thing I knew, Jakeās bark startled me awake. I peeked over the dash as Gregg approached with a large brown bag. Jake must have been spooked because Gregg was one of his favorites. No one in the diner seemed to notice, though, and we eased out the driveway and headed toward home.
As Gregg pulled in the storeās driveway, he cleared his throat. āDo you mind if I come up and wait with you?ā he said. āI know Brower doesnāt want me around, but Iād like to make sure this goes the way it should. I donāt trust him.ā
āIād love it. Oh, and let me pay you for the soup.ā
He scowled so hard I felt the tug of a smile myself. āThatās a good sign,ā Gregg said. As he opened my door, he added, āOh, and just FYI, Brower may be better than the alternative. If the girl had died on Forest Service landāand it was deemed a crimeāthe FBI would be called in. Hard as it may be to believe, you might have an easier time with our sheriff.ā
I nodded, though I couldnāt imagine that. The three of us headed up the stairs, Jake happy to be out of the truck and back home. Me, too, even if a long evening lay ahead.
āWell, Jake, thatās one for the record books,ā I said, as I turned out the light on my bedside table. But he was already asleep after his heroic day. I was hoping to join him, but I stared at the ceiling for hours.
I barely slept that night. Too much going on, most of which I wudnāt privy to. I just knew that things werenāt going to be the same for a while. I liked our regular routineāeat breakfast, head down to the store, and sit in my chair. Dellaād open up round eight oāclock (which lots of folks thought was too late), and Iād get to see everyone and say howdy till dinnertime. Afterwards, Iād watch a little TV or take a nap (though no one made me do that anymoreāit just felt good after one of Mamaās big dinners). Later, Iād mosey down to the store again, and things pretty much repeated themselves till suppertime.
The next morning, I ate later than usual (Mama let me sleep in after our big night), so I was feeling jumpy. I wanted to get downstairs as the folks started to show up. I knew our townāpeople would suddenly need a quart of milk or a six-pack of Pabst. It was pushing eight oāclock when I finished breakfast; I wiped my mouth with my napkin and scooted my chair out.
āSon, why donāt you stay home today? Your mother could use your help in the garden.ā
āYeah, and she could use your help making her feel special, not a draft horse.ā Well, I just thought that. What I said was, āDaddy, not today. I mean I will help her, but not this morning. I want to get down to the store and see whatās happening.ā
He nodded. He could barely make eye contact with me, which was okay that time ācause he gave up real quick-like.
I hurried down the steps and saw four people already waiting for Della to open. Two were regulars, on their way to the t-shirt plant, but two had never shopped at the store before, at least that I could recall. I hoped theyād at least buy something. More people were coming round to the store again, like the days before Daddy gave up.
I had to ask one of the new people to get up from my chair. I figured he didnāt know no better, but I think I scared him. People were afraid of me ācause I was pretty big for my age and my words came out different sometimes. Mama said I sounded kinda gruff. The man jumped right up and knocked over the chair. He set it right, and I smiled at him to let him know no hard feelings, but that seemed to make things worse.
Just before eight oāclock, Della limped down the stairs, waved at me, and opened up. Pretty soon I heard her cash register ringing, so I knew it would be a good day. Not that she wouldnātāve given it all back if she couldāve made things different for that poor girl.
I looked in on her during one lull about midday, and she just blew her bangs out of her eyes with a slow, deep breathe. I looked both ways to make sure Mama wudnāt looking and stepped inside. I pulled a Dr. Pepper out of the cooler and dug round in my pocket for my change.
āThatās on the house, Mister.ā
āNo, you canāt give me these for free all the time. Iāve got the money right here.ā I plunked a handful of pennies and nickels and dimes on the counter.
āOkay, then,ā she said, āhow much do you owe me?ā
āThirty-five cent, plus tax. Just take it out of these coins.ā
āI can, but you can, too.ā
Della thought I could do better than most people did. Daddy always took
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