He’d spent his lifetime trying to keep things like drugs and pornography out of River Bluff’s schools. Out of River Bluff, period.
Annie poured her friend a glass of the herbal tea she’d brewed, and pushed a plate of ham sandwiches toward her. “I just got off the phone with Katie’s parents. Apparently the brownies were brought to the park after football practice. No one knows who brought them. Katie claims she didn’t eat any.”
“That’s convenient.” The sarcasm in her friend’s voice was so unlike her, Annie was worried.
She’d followed closely behind Becky all the way out to the three-bedroom white-frame farmhouse, afraid for her friend. For the thoughts she knew Becky was having; the guilt she was bearing on shoulders
that were already carrying far too much.
“We got lucky, Bec. I never thought I’d hear myself say this, but thank God he went home with Katie, so he was right across the street from me, because otherwise he’d have been wandering around God knows where, and who knows who would have found him.”
Plopping down in the chair next to Annie, Becky grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank God you were there, Annie. Thank you. I don’t know what I’d have done if…” Tears pooled in her eyes as she broke off.
“Hey.” Flipping her hand over, Annie held on to her friend. “It’s okay. You’re forgetting what a small town River Bluff is. Everyone knows everyone else here. He’d have been fine.”
“He could have ended up in jail, first, though.”
“Not likely with Hub Parker as a grandfather,” Annie said. “Those deputies would have made sure they had an airtight case before doing anything as drastic as that. And anyway, the most important thing is that he’s going to be as good as new in the morning.”
“Is he?” Becky’s gaze flooded with worry as she glanced over. Holding her teacup with both hands, she had yet to take a sip. “He believes Katie had nothing to do with those brownies. Or the drugs.”
“You don’t,” Annie guessed, partially because she didn’t, either.
“You know her reputation. She’s eighteen years old, Annie.” Becky’s eyes were shadowed. “What the hell does she want with my son?”
“Have you looked at Shane lately?”
“He’s fifteen! Still a boy. I’ll bet she’s selling drugs and saw him as her next client.”
“He’s becoming a man, Bec,” Annie said softly, compassion—and something else inexplicable, discomfiting—filling her heart. She could feel Becky’s helplessness. And could see herself in the same position fifteen years hence. “You’ve taught him well. If that’s the case, he’ll make the right choice,” she added.
“Unless she tempts his hormones until he’s not thinking at all.”
“He’s your son, Bec.” Annie helped herself to a sandwich, and handed one to Becky. “He’s got a lot of you in him. You’ve set the stage, given him the tools to make the right choices.”
“But what if he doesn’t?”
“Then we’ll be here to catch him when he falls. To pick up the pieces. And help him put his life back together again.”
It sounded so easy. So…doable.
When, in fact, as Annie well knew, there were some things that just couldn’t be fixed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“SHANE NEEDS A FATHER.” Becky had eaten only a couple of the finger sandwiches. But she’d finished her tea. Her expression glum, she poured herself another cup.
“He has one,” Annie pointed out. When a long look was the only response forthcoming, she asked, “Does Danny know what happened today?”“No.”
“You going to tell him?”
“I suppose. Not that it will help much. We’ve been divorced for thirteen years. I know he worries about Shane but he has another family. Another life.”
“I just thought that maybe if he knew what was going on, he could offer a little male influence in Shane’s life.”
“It’s a little late to hope the two of them are going to bond. Besides, he’s got male influence right here at home. My dad’s a helluva lot better with Shane than he ever was with me.”
Annie was sure Becky was right. Hub could relate to the boy. A much easier proposition than consoling a little girl who’d lost her mother.