Breath of Scandal Page 5

  “Or what? Your boyfriend will beat me up with two ice cream sundaes again?” He made a derisive sound, then turned his back on her and moved toward an ice chest, partially concealed in the dead grass. “Want a beer?”

  “No.”

  “Hutch? Lamar?”

  Neal opened the chest, took out three beers, and, without waiting for his friends to reply tossed a can to each of them. He popped the top off his and took a long draft. Like mimics, Hutch and Lamar did the same.

  Jade leaned against the rear bumper of the car, studiously ignoring them and rubbing her arms against the damp chill. She hadn’t thought to get her coat and books out of Donna Dee’s car.

  It was an extremely dark night. The low, moisture-laden clouds blocked out the moon. Nearby, she could hear the slow-moving water, but she couldn’t see anything beyond the small patch of light the headlights gave off. The wind was light, but it was bone-chilling.

  Neal finished his beer. Crumpling the can in his fist, he tossed it into the undergrowth on the bank of the narrow channel. The ground was littered with similar cans.

  “Can we go now?” Jade tried to sound imperious despite her shivering.

  Neal sauntered toward her. “Not yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because before we go,” he drawled, “the three of us are going to fuck you.”

  Chapter Three

  Donna Dee Monroe was in a quandary. It didn’t feel right for her to be safe at home while Jade’s whereabouts remained uncertain. Surely if Jade were home she would have called.

  Donna Dee had waited inside her stranded car only five minutes before a farming family in a station wagon had stopped and offered her a lift into town. Her father had met her at the service station, filled a gas can, and returned her to her car. She was back in Palmetto less than twenty minutes after the three boys had disappeared with Jade.

  The thought of being left behind still rankled. How dare they go off and leave her stranded like that? And why hadn’t he let Jade out of the car when she made it obvious that she didn’t want to go with them alone? Neal Patchett ought to be stood against a wall and shot right between the eyes.

  As usual, Hutch had done Neal’s bidding without a whimper of protest. It irked Donna Dee that Hutch cared so little for her that he would desert her on a lonely stretch of highway, prey to whatever kind of lowlife might have come along. Of course, the notion of being snatched up and carried off into the night by Hutch Jolly was madly romantic, and one fantasy she’d entertained many times. While it wouldn’t be ideal to have Neal and Lamar tagging along when Hutch swept her away, Donna Dee envied Jade the adventure of being “kidnapped.”

  Now, alone in her bedroom, Donna Dee wondered what she should do about Jade. Had Neal tried to return Jade to the point where he had picked her up, or had he brought her back to town, or taken her straight to Gary’s house? There was only one way to find out. Donna Dee reached for her telephone and began dialing the Parkers’ number. But what if Jade wasn’t there? In view of his recent fight with Neal at the Dairy Barn, Gary would go into a tailspin when he found out what Neal had done.

  Donna Dee didn’t want to get Jade into trouble with her mom or with Gary. She didn’t want anybody mad at her, either. But she couldn’t relax until she knew what was happening. Finally making up her mind, she placed a telephone call.

  * * *

  “Left?”

  “That’s right, Velta,” Pete Jones said. “I got back from the nursing home a little before six. Jade and that Monroe girl were practically bouncing off the walls. When I agreed to let Jade leave early, they tore straight out of here. She said to tell you she’d be home in an hour with some good news.”

  Velta disliked surprises, even happy ones. She especially didn’t welcome one this evening. She was tired. Her lower back ached from bending over her desk all day. She was hungry for dinner. She wanted to go home, eat, take a long bath, and go to bed.

  Velta was barely forty, but she looked every day of it and then some, as now, when she pursed her narrow lips in vexation. “It’s not like Jade to go off without asking my permission.”

  Pete Jones chuckled. “Something big was going on. Jade’s feet were barely touching the ground.”

  “Did she say what her good news was?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, she’ll turn up soon,” she said with forced indifference. No sense in providing fodder for the gossip mill. “Thank you, Mr. Jones. Good night.”

  On the drive home, Velta scanned the streets for a sign of Donna Dee’s car. This escapade was probably all her doing. Ever since Donna Dee’s parents had given her that rattletrap automobile, the girls had had far too much independence. That’s why Velta never let Jade take the car out unless she accounted for where she was going and how long she would be gone. People didn’t think well of girls who had unlimited freedom.

  By the time she arrived home, Velta was in a snit. The mailbox was full of mail that she was too tired and angry to sort through. She tossed it onto the kitchen table without even glancing through it. For dinner she heated up some soup. She had just finished her bath when the telephone rang. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Mrs. Sperry. It’s Donna Dee. May I speak with Jade, please?”

  “Mr. Jones told me she was with you!”

  “Uh, well, she was. She’s not home yet?”

  “Donna Dee, I want a full explanation, and I want it now. Jade left the store before six and it’s almost nine. Where is she?”

  “We were on our way to Gary’s house and ran out of gas.”

  “Why were you going all the way out to the Parkers’ place at that time of day?”

  “She had something to tell Gary.”

  “Something that couldn’t be told over the telephone?”

  “Mrs. Sperry, don’t press me on this, okay?” Donna Dee whined. “You need to hear it from Jade. Anyway, we ran out of gas about halfway there. Neal Patchett came by. He had Hutch and Lamar with him. They, uh, they took Jade with them.”

  “Took her where?”

  “I don’t know. They drove off and left me stranded. They meant it as a joke, I guess, but this is the lowest trick Neal has ever pulled.”

  “Are you at home now?”

  “I have been for a while.” She explained how she had returned to town. “I figured that Jade would have gotten home by now—you know, that either Neal or Gary would have brought her. The last I saw of them, they were headed in the direction of the Parker farm.”

  “Well, she isn’t here. I haven’t heard a word.”

  “Do you think Jade’s all right?” Donna Dee asked uneasily.

  “If Neal dropped her off at Gary’s house, she’s probably just lost track of time. I’ve had to get onto her lately for breaking her curfews.”

  “Why didn’t she come back for me?”

  “How long were you there alone?”

  “Not long.”

  “You were probably already on your way back by the time she got there.”

  “I guess so, but maybe one of us ought to call Gary’s house and make sure she’s there. I didn’t before, because there’s bad blood between Gary and Neal. Gary wouldn’t like knowing that Jade hitched a ride with Neal.”

  “Well, if she’s at his place, he already knows, doesn’t he?”

  “That’s true,” Donna Dee said slowly as realization dawned. “Maybe he’s mad and Jade’s trying to smooth things over.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Donna Dee. I’ll call the Parkers myself. Good night.”

  Velta considered the advantages of calling the Parkers but decided against it. If Jade was with Gary, she was safe. If she was with Neal Patchett, why get Gary upset? What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

  A smile tugged at the corners of Velta’s lips and a rare sparkle appeared in her gray eyes. If Jade was with Neal, all the better. An evening in his company might change the girl’s mind about a few things. She might come to realize how important it was to mingle with the right
people, and how much more fun it would be to fall in love with a rich boy than a poor one.

  All things considered, this might be the best thing that could have happened.

  * * *

  Had the choice been left solely to Jade, she probably would have lain on the marshy ground beside the channel until she died of hunger, thirst, or exposure. Her survival instinct was too powerful, however. She never knew how long she lay in the dark, curled into a defensive fetal position, numbed by the violation that had been inflicted on her.

  The clouds wept for her. The mist that had been falling intermittently all day had turned into a miserable rain. Cold, mortified, and outraged, she finally uncoiled her body and managed to pull herself onto her hands and knees.

  She crawled forward a few yards and found a shoe that she had, at some point during the attack, kicked off. She groped in the darkness for its mate but couldn’t locate it. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. She would just as soon die as live.

  No, that wasn’t entirely true. Because even more compelling than her will to survive was her determination to see that Hutch Jolly, Lamar Griffith, and Neal Patchett were punished for what they had done to her.

  With that thought burning like a torch in her soul, she struggled to stand up and made feeble attempts to pull her blouse together. The buttons had been ripped off. The best she could do was to refasten her bra. Her breasts were sore.

  The clouds overhead blotted out the moonlight. There was nothing to relieve the darkness. With her arms extended, she felt her way around the clearing like a blind person and only got her bearings when she stumbled over the deep tire tracks Neal’s car had left in the muddy ground.

  Dropping to her hands and knees again, she crawled along the tracks, knowing that if she followed them, they would eventually lead her back to the highway. A nocturnal creature slithered out of the undergrowth and crossed her path. Snatching her hands back, she recoiled in fear and held her breath, listening. Several minutes ticked by. When she didn’t hear anything except her own labored heartbeat, or sense any movement in the tall grass that lined the narrow road, she continued inching her way along the tread tracks, concentrating only on placing one palm on the cold, squishy ground, then the next. She dragged her knees behind her until they were as sore as the rest of her body. Rain trickled into her collar and down her back and plastered her hair to her scalp.

  Frequently she was tempted to give up. She wanted to lie down and die, for in a matter of hours, her life had turned ugly and bleak. She didn’t want to acknowledge what had happened to her or cope with the devastating after-effects.

  But if she gave up, her rapists might get off scot-free.

  So she kept going. Hand, knee, hand, knee, hand, knee…

  After what seemed like hours, she reached the ditch that ran alongside the highway. Crawling forward, she reached out to touch the pavement. With a hoarse, glad cry, she clambered forward and lay prostrate on the highway as though she wanted to embrace it, like a pilgrim who has finally reached a holy shrine. The road’s surface was hard beneath her cheek, but she lay face down on it to rest.

  If she had made it this far, she could make it all the way back to town, to the hospital, to the sheriff’s office. Thank God she had survived to report the crime. Hutch, Lamar, and Neal wouldn’t be hard to locate. Depending on how long it took her to get back to town, they would be locked behind bars within hours.

  Long before she was sufficiently rested and ready to stand up, she forced herself to her feet. Driven by the need to punish her violators, she staggered toward the center of the road. Following the broken white stripe would be less hazardous than groping her way along the uneven shoulder.

  As she moved forward, she tried to calculate how long it would take her to reach Palmetto. Or should she try to go only as far as the first house she came to? From there she could call for help.

  Her mother must be frantic with worry. Velta wanted to know where Jade was every single minute of the day. Surely Donna Dee had alerted someone to her abduction—unless Donna Dee had been raped, too.

  “Oh, God, please no,” she mumbled to herself.

  She hopefully imagined volunteers looking for them already, combing the county in their search. Perhaps by the time she reached town, her three attackers would already be under arrest.

  The car was almost upon her before she realized it was there. She had been so lost in thought that the weak headlights hadn’t alerted her to its approach.

  Neal! He had come back for her. He wasn’t under arrest yet. He had returned to hurt her again, maybe kill her so she couldn’t testify against him.

  Jade stumbled across the highway and plunged into the ditch. There was knee-deep stagnant water in the bottom of it. It smelled foul. Cold slime oozed between her bare toes. Her fear, however, was stronger than her revulsion.

  Panicked and whimpering, she thrashed her way through reeds and undergrowth that seemed to clutch at the hem of her skirt. When she reached the barbed-wire fence, she crouched down beside a fence post, hiding, trying to be invisible.

  The car slowed down and crept along the shoulder. When its headlights fell on her, it stopped.

  “No, no.” She ducked her head against her shoulder and protected her middle with her crossed arms, which were bleeding from dozens of scratches left by the brambles in the ditch.

  “Missy, missy, wha’chu doin’ out heah this time o’ evenin’?” The voice was black. So were the hands that were outstretched toward her. “Missy, you hurt?”

  He touched her shoulder. She flinched. He quickly pulled back his hands. “I ain’t gonna hurt you, missy. What’s happened to you?”

  Against the twin beams of the headlights, he was merely a silhouette, but Jade made out a pair of overalls and a slouchy felt hat. Again he extended his hands toward her. This time she didn’t recoil. He placed his hands beneath her forearms and gingerly backed up, pulling her along with him, up out of the ditch.

  Keeping one hand beneath her arm, the man opened the passenger side and helped her into his old pickup. The door closed with a loud clatter of rusty metal that jarred her. It was dry inside, but there was no heater. She began to shiver uncontrollably.

  “Where you headed, missy?” he asked as he slid behind the wheel. “Do you stay ’round heah?”

  “Would you take me to the hospital, please?” She didn’t recognize her own voice. It was hoarse from screaming. Neal had slapped her for screaming. Hutch had covered her mouth with his large hand. Her screams had made Lamar anxious.

  “The hospital? Sure thing, missy. You just rest now. Everythin’s gonna be all right.”

  Jade did as the man suggested. She laid her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. She was safe. Warm tears seeped from her closed eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She cried silently as the ancient truck bounced along the highway.

  Either she dozed or momentarily lost consciousness because, almost immediately it seemed, the truck slowed down and came to a halt. The man got out and went around to open the door for her.

  “Thank you,” she whispered as he helped her out. When she stepped to the ground, her lower body began to throb painfully. She swayed and had to grab a support pole. Closing her eyes, she rested her cheek against the cold metal surface until the dizziness subsided. “Thank you,” she repeated.

  She turned to the man who had kindly rescued her, but his truck was backing away. “No, wait.” She shielded her eyes against the headlights, but couldn’t make out what he or the truck looked like. There was no front license plate. When the pickup reached the main road, the forward gears were engaged and the truck lumbered off into the rainy darkness. Jade supposed that beating a hasty retreat was his only protection against those who would jump to conclusions about his involvement with a white rape victim. Unfortunately, there were still many in Palmetto who, given the situation, would act first and ask questions later.

  She made hesitant progress toward the sliding glass doors where EMERGENCY was spelled
out in red neon. The doors slid open. Beyond them, the blue-white fluorescent lighting was offensive. She dreaded being exposed to it, so she hovered just inside the door, waiting for someone to notice her. Two nurses and a man who looked like a janitor were chatting and laughing together at the desk.

  Jade had thought she would welcome reporting the attack, but now that it was imminent, she was filled with dread. This was only the first of many difficult steps to see that justice was done. In order to achieve her goal, however, she was willing to bear whatever difficulties and embarrassment she might encounter.

  Leaving a trail of mud behind her, she worked up her courage and shuffled toward the desk. “Excuse me.” Three pairs of eyes turned toward her. “Can you help me, please?”

  At the sight of her, their faces registered shock for several seconds. Then the janitor stepped out of the way, one of the nurses reached for the telephone, and the other rounded the desk to lend Jade a supportive arm.

  “What happened to you, honey? Were you in an accident?”

  “I was raped.”

  The nurse looked at her sharply. “Raped? Here in Palmetto?”

  “Beside a channel, just off the coastal highway.”

  “Sweet Jesus.”

  Jade was keenly aware of the janitor, who was taking in every word and staring at her breasts through her gaping blouse. The other nurse was speaking into the telephone. “Dr. Harvey, we need you in the ER. A girl just came in. She says she was raped.”

  “I was raped.” Jade’s voice cracked. She was very near tears. She wished the janitor would stop gawking at her.

  “Come on, honey, let’s put you in here to wait for the doctor. Want me to call somebody for you?”

  “Not until I’ve cleaned up.”

  The nurse led her into a small examination room. The curtain she pulled around the table was flimsy and billowy, like a yellow parachute. “Lordy, lordy, you’re a mess. Get out of those clothes. Everything. The doctor’ll have to do a pelvic, you know. Put this on.” She handed Jade a blue-and-white striped cotton hospital gown.