Chapter 10

It was late in the evening before Carl and his son left the police station. They'd both had to wait for the lawyer, then gave their statements before being released, with a warning not to leave town.

Carl called an Uber to take them home, and the moment they got back to their estate, he lit into his son.

"What did you do with my Beretta?"

"Why are you blaming me that it went missing?" Junior snapped.

"Because you're the only one with access to my things."

Junior glared.

Carl moved closer. "Let me phrase this another way. Did you give my Beretta to Gunny?"

"It was just for backup. He wasn't supposed to hurt anyone," Junior said.

Carl's gut knotted. "Hellsfire! You could get a burner off the street. Why the hell didn't you do that?"

Junior shrugged. "I don't know. Yours was here. It was handy, but after he told me what happened, I ditched the gun the same day he gave it back."

Carl stared. "Did you pawn it?"

Junior shrugged. "No. I threw it away."

"Where?" Carl asked.

"Down a sewer grate out in the park."

Carl rolled his eyes. "Did you really lose your truck to Gunny in a poker game?"

"Yes. He's been driving it most of this month," Junior said.

"Then why do you still have the title? Do you not have any honor at all?" He slapped Junior with the flat of his hand and sent him reeling. "A man always pays his debts. It's not like you don't have the money to just buy another truck. Why the hell didn't you just sign it over? We wouldn't be in this mess if you had. There's no way to explain this away."

Junior's cheek was burning. "Gunny's prints will be all over the truck, and we can claim he stole the gun. Surely there will be security footage somewhere of him driving the truck. We can figure something out."

"No. All of this still links us to Eggers's murder. You know, you nearly drowned in the bathtub when you were two. I did CPR and saved your life, and at this moment, I deeply regret that. Get out of my sight."

Junior pivoted on his heel and stormed out of the house.

Carl was on the phone when he heard the roar of Junior's Porsche speeding away from the property. He thought about the possible consequences of Junior Henley having one of his meltdowns, then reminded himself it was nearly sunset, and his son was thirty-two years old. If he was lucky, Junior would wreck the Porsche, break his damn neck, and Carl could blame this whole mess on him.

***

At the same time Carl Henley's world was coming undone, Gunny was at the bus station in Miami, waiting for his cousin Roly. He'd called Roly before he left Kentucky, making sure his cousin would give him a place to stay, and then called him again about an hour outside of Miami to come pick him up. If he wasn't here already, he soon would be. It had been years since he'd seen his cousin, but all of the Pryors looked alike, and Gunny was counting on recognizing him, which he did.

Roly Pryor had already spotted Lonny the moment he walked into the station, and lifted a hand in greeting before heading toward him. They met with a quick hug, thumping each other on the back.

"Man, Lonny, it is good to see you," Roly said.

"You too, cuz," Gunny said. "I hope I'm not putting you out."

Roly shook his head. "Naw. My ol' lady left me over a year ago. I'm just rattling around in that house on my own. I'll be glad for the company. You got your own bedroom, and I can always use a hand at work. I take people out on swamp tours. Got me an airboat and everything. Are you ready to go?"

Gunny nodded and followed Roly to an old black Jeep 4x4, threw his bags in the back seat and got in the front seat.

"Buckle up!" Roly said. "Driving in this traffic is like playing dodgeball with cars."

Lonny sighed and did as he was told. He was about to leave Gunny behind, and it felt good. No one here had ever known him by that name. He was headed to the Everglades. Back to his roots. And if his daddy hadn't moved them to Tennessee when he was a kid, he would have grown up in the swamps and been a whole different man. It was too late to change the past, but he was aiming for a new future.

***

Ava opened her eyes and, for a moment, didn't know where she was until the pink room registered. Bubba! Then she heard music and smelled something cooking. She threw back the blanket, grabbed her dolly, and ran.

Wiley had spaghetti sauce simmering on the back burner and some refrigerated cinnamon rolls baking in the oven. They weren't on the Granny Annie's Bakery level, but they were good enough. He'd washed and dried all of Ava's new clothes and had them folded on the kitchen table, just waiting for her to wake up before putting them away, and was online ordering storybooks, crayons, and coloring books, some colorful wooden puzzles, and a small flat-screen TV for her room. He'd just finished the order when he heard her running up the hall, and then she appeared in the doorway, wide-eyed and verging on panic. Before he could ask what was wrong, she slid to a stop.

"You're still here," she whispered.

Wiley opened his arms as she crawled up into his lap. "Yes, baby, I'm still here. Popes don't lie. Popes keep promises. You're my girl, okay?" He felt her trembling, but she was beginning to relax.

"Did you ever figure out what dolly's name was?" he asked.

She pulled the doll up beneath her chin as she leaned against him. "She said her name was Pinky."

Wiley smiled. Of course, it was. "Ah…what a great name. We should have known, right? I mean…look at that pretty pink dress she's wearing."

Ava nodded.

"Did you have a good nap?" Wiley asked.

"Yes. What do I smell?"

He grinned. "Spaghetti sauce and cinnamon rolls are in the oven. Smells good in here, doesn't it?"

"Do I like cinnamon rolls?" Ava asked.

"I'm pretty sure you do. They're sweet and have icing on the top and cinnamon and sugar swirled in the middle."

"Yum," Ava said.

Wiley laughed. "Definitely yum. And now that you're awake, want to help me put away your new clothes? I have them all washed and ready to wear."

"Yes! New clothes! I never had new ones before. Corina shopped at the army."

Wiley frowned. "The army?"

Ava nodded. "Miss Mattie says it's where they save souls and worn-out clothes."

"Ah…the Salvation Army," Wiley muttered.

"Yes, that's the one," Ava said.

Corina Dalton's soul sure need saving , Wiley thought, but remembered he'd already called the woman an ass. There was no purpose in mentioning she was on the road to hell as well.

"Well, since we're making new rules, we won't be shopping there anymore, if that's okay with you."

Ava nodded. "It's okay," she said and slid out of his lap. "Pinky can help carry."

"Works for me," Wiley said, and handed her the little stack with her new panties. "You two can carry these."

Ava's eyes widened as she felt the silky garments.

"They're so soft," she whispered.

"No whispers, unless needed, and you're right! They are soft," he said.

He grabbed the rest of the clothes and did a march step out of the room, with Ava right behind him, mimicking his every move.

For Ava, the process of filling up her dresser drawers was like burying treasure. And it was all hers to wear when she wanted. She hadn't thought of Conway, or Corina, in hours. Not since Bubba promised he was keeping her. Ava didn't know the word trust , or understand its meaning, but without realizing it, she was learning that it did exist.

Wiley had signed up for the Disney Channel while she was sleeping so they could watch movies together and then found a channel on TV that aired nothing but cartoons.

"I'm going to finish making supper," he said. "You and Pinky can watch TV together for a bit, okay?"

She had already zeroed in on the screen and just nodded.

He iced the cooled cinnamon rolls and put some pasta on to boil. When he peeked in later to check on her, she had all of her new stuffed toys lined up on the couch, and she was sitting in the middle of them with Pinky in her lap, still glued to the screen. When he heard her giggle and then laugh out loud, he smiled. Now he knew what her laugh was like, and he walked away.

Supper was a success. Ava liked Wiley's spaghetti better than spaghetti in a can. He took a picture of her at the table slurping up a noodle, with spaghetti sauce on her chin, and sent it to Shirley with a message.

Ava likes s'gettie.

He got a text back in a couple of minutes with a happy face and a whole row of heart emojis.

"Are you too full for dessert?" Wiley asked.

Ava had been eyeing the cinnamon rolls all through the meal and shook her head.

"No, Bubba. I saved room."

He pushed the plate toward her. "You pick out the one you want," he said, again making the point that she had choices.

She took the one nearest her with the most icing, bit, chewed, and swallowed.

"Yum."

"So, they're good?" Wiley asked.

She nodded.

"Good. Then I'll have one, too," he said. "Hmm, I don't know which one I should choose."

Ava pointed to the one on top. "That one, Bubba! It's tall like you."

He grinned. "You're right! It is pretty high up there, and it's just waiting for me." He took it from the platter. "Cinnamon roll! Get in my mouth!" he announced, and took a big bite.

For some reason, that struck Ava as funny, and she collapsed in giggles. After that, every time she took a bite, she said, "Get in my mouth," and Wiley would laugh like they were the funniest two people they knew.

Finally, the meal was over, and Wiley sent her to wash up while he cleaned up the kitchen. But as it began to get dark, he noticed Ava was getting anxious. She began worrying about the window shades being open, so he pulled the shades, and then the curtains need to be closed. But she was still pacing and uneasy, and finally, Wiley sat down beside her.

"What's wrong, honey? Are you afraid of the dark? Tell me."

"You have to pull the shades and curtains and stay away from the windows. At night, they shoot guns and fight in the street."

A wave of horror washed over him. "That doesn't happen here." And then he thought of the bank robbery and being shot less than two months ago. "And if there ever is a bad man with a gun anywhere in town, the police grab him and put him in jail. I'm a policeman. That's my job. I will always keep you safe, and I will always come to help you when you need it."

She was staring at him intently, watching his face, hearing the words, and he doubted that she believed him. Only time would ease this fear. "Come on, we'll go all through the house and make sure all the shades are shut and the curtains drawn, okay?"

He got up, took her by the hand, and they walked the entire house, checking the windows to make sure they were locked, and the shades and curtains pulled. And then he turned on the little lamp by her bed. The night-lights were on in the hall and in the bathrooms, and she could see all of the corners in all of the rooms and be satisfied no one was there.

"Is that better?" he asked.

She nodded.

He picked her up and hugged her. "I'm so sorry Corina didn't keep you safe, but I will, understand?"

She hid her face in the curve of his neck and said nothing, but he felt her relax.

"Hey, how about I wash your hair at the kitchen sink; then you can try out your bathtub and have bubbles in it? Does that sound like a deal?"

Ava nodded, intrigued by the idea of washing her hair at the sink, and even more intrigued by the idea of bubbles in a bathtub.

Wiley got a step stool, a towel, and shampoo and headed for the kitchen with Ava at his side.

"You climb up here," he said. "All you have to do is hold on to the edge of the sink and lean over, and I'll do the rest. We'll put this towel around your neck so I won't splash your clothes."

"Miss Mattie did this, too, when there weren't too many dishes in the sink," Ava said.

Wiley winced, wondering how many dirty pots and plates she'd had to dodge and then let it go. That was then, and this was now.

"Good, then you know how this works," he said, and when the water was just right, he draped the towel around her little shoulders and leaned her over.

"Close your eyes. This won't take long," he said.

She flinched when the water hit the back of her head, but she didn't say a word. By the time he got to the shampoo part, she was leaning against him.

"Am I scrubbing too hard?" he asked.

"No, Bubba. It feels good," she said.

When he began to rinse out the soap, he was struck again by how fragile she felt. Her tiny bones were too prominent, but he doubted anyone could match Ava's fortitude. She was the epitome of a survivor.

"All done, sugar!" he said, and pulled the towel up around her hair and gently squeezed until the water quit dripping. To his delight, when he removed the towel, her head was a mass of thick, white-blond natural curls. "Wow. Just look at how pretty you are!" he said.

"I wanna see!" Ava cried.

"Go look in your mirror. You are so pretty!"

Ava's eyes widened. "Am I pretty as Corina?"

Wiley frowned. "She's not the standard by which we judge beauty, little girl. You can't be pretty on the outside if your insides are all mean and hateful."

Ava thought about that, then jumped down and ran down the hall.

Wiley followed. He wanted to see the look on her face when she saw herself in the mirror. When he got to her room, she was standing in front of her dresser, touching her hair all over.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"I like it," she said.

"So do I. Bath next. And we don't get our hair wet in the bathtub, okay? That kind of soap isn't good for your hair. Just your skin." He started the water running in the tub, added a little nonallergenic bubble bath, and let the tub fill to about a foot of water with a thick layer of bubbles.

Ava was beside herself with glee, leaning over the tub and poking her fingers in the bubbles and laughing.

"I can get in the bubbles now?" she asked.

Here's where he ran into another roadblock. Was it proper to help a little girl bathe, or did they wash themselves at this age?

"Can you get in the tub and wash all over by yourself, or do you need help?"

"I don't know. I never had a bath like this before," she said.

He had to go with his gut on this. She wasn't a baby. She was going to be in second grade. Even if she'd never had the luxury, she'd surely seen other women in bathtubs.

"I know you're old enough to wash yourself, but the bubbles will make the tub feel slick. So be careful getting in, and when you're through, I'll be sitting on your bed waiting. Then we'll get you dried off and into your new nightgown, okay?"

"Yes, Bubba. I can do that," she said, and was already pulling her shirt over her head.

He had one glance at the lack of flesh on the child, the prominence of her ribs and hip bones, and then walked out of her bathroom.

"I'm right here!" he called out as he sat down on the side of her bed.

"'Kay!" she said, and then she was in the bubbles.

He could hear her slapping her hands together, popping bubbles and giggling, and then sloshing.

"Don't forget to wash. Your bar of bath soap is right there in the little shelf," he said.

"I see it!"

Moments later, he heard it thump into the tub and grinned. Likely slid out of her hands. Now she had to go fish.

He remembered doing that with B.J. when they were little. Mom always bathed the boys two at a time. The two oldest, then the two youngest, changing water between because little boys were always dirty.

And then as he sat, he realized she was talking, but not to him.

"The bubble princess came up from the sea and blew bubbles all over Corina, 'cause she needs a-washin'. Lipstick won't make her pretty. She's mean, and I'm not a mistake. Bubba wants me. I don't never have to go back to Conway again."

His throat tightened with emotion. He couldn't begin to imagine the things this child had seen, and closed his eyes.

God, please help me do this right.

He gave her fifteen minutes and knew the water was probably getting cold and the bubbles were most likely gone. She was still rattling away, lost in her own little world, but it was time to intervene.

"Hey, honey! Time to get out."

"I'm gettin'," she said.

He walked in as she was climbing out, wrapped a giant bath towel around her, then carried her into the bedroom and set her down beside her bed, dried her all over, then slipped one of her new nightgowns over her head. Her hair was completely dry now, and the curls were soft as silk beneath his hands.

"I sleep in this?" she said.

"Yes. It's called a nightgown. That's what it's for. To sleep in," he said.

She ran her little hands down the front of it, then reached for her doll.

"Can Pinky sleep with me?"

"Yes, ma'am. That's why she's so soft, so you can hug her while you sleep."

The whole concept of having something to sleep with was foreign.

"One last thing and you're ready for bed," he said.

"What's that?" Ava asked.

"We have to brush our teeth, right?"

"I don't have a toothbrush," she said.

"You have a new one," Wiley said. "It's in your bathroom. Come on. I'll put toothpaste on it for you."

She was all eyes, watching the ritual. Absorbing the rules of the house. Determined to do everything right so Bubba wouldn't be sorry he kept her.

He was still waiting for her when she came out of the bathroom again, but instead of just putting her in bed and leaving, he tucked her and Pinky in, then leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"Gotta have a good-night kiss for sweet dreams," he said.

"Where will you be, Bubba?"

"Right across the hall in my room. I'm going to shower and brush my teeth and get my pajamas and go to bed, too. I might watch a little TV. Will the noise bother you?"

"No. Corina always slept with the TV on."

"That's not a good idea. Everybody needs quiet time, right?" Wiley said.

She nodded. "Yes. Quiet is magic. Sometimes when I get really quiet, I disappear, and then Corina can't throw things at me."

Jesus wept. Wiley was dumbstruck.

"Did she ever hurt you?" he asked.

"Sometimes. But I didn't bleed."

The fact that Ava thought that was a level of okay was horrifying, and there was another question burning into his gut. He had to ask, but was scared shitless to hear the answer.

"Did she ever leave you with people who hurt you or touched you when you didn't want them to?"

"No. Mostly they forgot about me, 'cept for Miss Mattie. She was nice."

"Okay then," Wiley said. "I'll turn the TV off later, and when the house gets quiet, then just remember it's working its magic, making us safe."

She nodded. "Yes. Quiet is good, Bubba. And we pulled the shades and closed the curtains, so we're safe."

He cupped the side of her face. "Yes, baby, you're safe. I've got this! Now close your eyes. You can hear the TV, and I'm going to get in the shower."

"Okay. Don't worry. I know how to be still," she said, and rolled over onto her side with Pinky tucked beneath her chin.

He patted her shoulder, then walked into his bedroom, turned on the TV, and then turned the sound down a little and headed for the shower. He hadn't slept in pajamas since he was in middle school, but that was all changing now. He grabbed a pair of gym shorts out of his dresser and headed for the bathroom and closed the door, then turned on the water to let it get warm while he stripped. It was the quickest shower he'd ever taken, and as soon as he dried and put on his shorts, he went to check on Ava.

She was motionless. Like she'd promised. She knew how to be still.

He pulled the sheet up over her shoulder, then went back across the hall and climbed into bed. The television was still on, and he was too antsy to sleep, so he lay there—watching a late-night talk show, missing Linette—and drifted off to sleep.

***

Linette wasn't sleeping well. She kept having nightmares of the bank robbery, reliving Mr. Trotter's murder, then seeing Wiley Pope take a bullet in the chest. In the dreams, she was trying to get to Wiley, but everyone on the floor kept grabbing at her ankles, begging her to help them. She could see Wiley, but she couldn't get to him and kept screaming at them to let her go. Then the dream morphed to Wiley carrying Ava and walking out the door.

She woke up sweating. She knew Wiley wouldn't do that to her, but right now his focus had to be on Ava. It was a sad thing to accept, but Linette knew, as every parent knows, the children come first, and Ava was an obvious victim of neglect and abuse.

Even though the air conditioner in her apartment was set on morgue-level cold, she got out of bed and made a beeline to the kitchen to start some coffee, then headed for the shower. Her shift began at 7:00 a.m. and she felt like crying, which was not how she needed to begin her day.

***

Wiley was used to being up early for work and was already waking up when he remembered Ava. She hadn't called out or cried at any time during the night, and the quiet seemed ominous. He leaped out of bed and was across the hall in three long steps, only to find her rolled up in a little ball with Pinky in one hand and the white teddy bear in the other. So, she had been up in the night and had taken teddy back to bed with her, too.

He watched her sleeping for a few moments and reminded himself she wasn't as helpless as she appeared. She'd learned a long time ago how to survive within the environment into which she'd been born, and now that he knew she was fine, he went back to shower and shave, then get dressed. They had a big day ahead of them, and he wanted to make breakfast before they went to meet Dani. While he was cooking, it dawned on him that they should have a party this evening at his house so Ava could meet her brothers, her grandmother, and her sisters-in-law.

***

Ava opened her eyes, blinked sleepily as she looked around the pink bedroom, then remembered yesterday. It had started out scary until Bubba told her he had a bed and pillow for her, and a home forever.

She could smell bacon cooking. She loved bacon. Maybe she would have toast, too. The anticipation of the unknown was too much to ignore. She made a quick trip to the bathroom and then ran barefoot to the kitchen, just to make sure Bubba was still there.

Wiley heard her coming as he pulled the last strip of bacon from the skillet. He turned off the burner and wiped his hands just as she flew into the room.

"Good morning, sunshine!" he said, and swooped her up into his arms and kissed her cheek. "Did you sleep good?" he asked.

She giggled.

"I'll take that as a yes. Are you hungry, sugar?"

Ava nodded.

Wiley pretended to frown. "I can't hear you!"

She giggled again. "Yes! I'm hungry."

"Me too. Do we scramble or fry our eggs?" he asked.

Her eyes widened. "I get eggs?"

He sighed. "Yes, and bacon, and toast!"

"I like them scrambled," she said.

"Then scrambled it is," he said, and put her down. "Why don't you go get dressed first?"

"What do I wear?" she asked.

"Remember where your new clothes are?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Then you pick out a pair of new panties and whichever shorts and shirt you want to wear."

Her eyes widened. "I get to pick?"

"Of course, you do. You're smart and little girls your age get to dress themselves. Go surprise me!"

She disappeared so fast he laughed, then reached for the carton of eggs and began breaking some into a bowl, then whipped them up. He poured the bacon fat into a bowl and then put the raw egg mix into the hot skillet and began stirring. As soon as he had the eggs cooked, he turned off the burner, covered them with a lid, and popped some bread in the toaster.