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Martha sighed. “I know Marybeth, the school secretary—”
“Is there anyone in this town you don’t know?”
“Of course,” Martha retorted, immediately defensive on behalf of her town. She’d always resented criticism from other people who scorned its sheltered way of life. Hearing herself, she gave him an apologetic look. “But not many.”
With a quick sideways glance, David sent her an understanding grin. How did the man always know what she was trying to say even when she hadn’t managed to say it?
“Anyway, according to Marybeth, Shelley’s been bringing an unusual number of notes to excuse her from class. Because none of my kids have done anything like this before, she didn’t think much of it at first.”
“I take it you didn’t send any notes?”
“Nope. Not one doctor or dentist appointment for that kid all semester, but according to the school she’s had six. There was something about a root canal—and preliminary work that had to be done to prepare for it. And then a stomach disorder that turned out to be stress but needed an upper GI before that could be determined.”
“The kid’s imaginative.”
“Marybeth thinks, and I agree, that she had help. Shelley didn’t write these notes herself.”
“Does the secretary know who else is involved?”
“Well, there’s one other student whose absences almost always coincide with Shelley’s.”
“Don’t tell me it’s Whitney Hines.”
“Yes, apparently Whitney’s suddenly gone into counseling, and since her therapist is in Phoenix, she frequently has to leave school early.”
“I’ll just bet Mr. Hines was a friendly guy when he found out about that.”
“Marybeth hadn’t phoned him yet.”
Over and over again the conversation with the secretary had been playing in Martha’s head. Nothing made sense to her anymore. Not the direction from which she’d come, nor the one toward which she was traveling.
“So why did the secretary call today? The number of incidents?”
Martha leaned an elbow on the console between them, energized, restless and weary at the same time. “Today, my sweet daughter excused herself from school to visit her stepmother, who’s visiting in Phoenix for only one day. Marybeth knew better than that.”
“The arrogance of youth,” David said, shaking his head. “Gets them every time.”
Martha muttered, “You know, I’m not sure what’s bothering me more at the moment—that she’s cutting school or that she used that woman as her excuse.”
Signaling a lane change, David glanced over at her. “My guess is neither.”
“What do you think it is?”
“Whatever she’s doing when she cuts school.”
Martha hoped it was hanging out at Whitney’s house reading magazines about boys and chewing gum. Or, as a worst-case scenario, shopping at the mall in Phoenix. She was going to kill Shelley, though, if she found out the latter. Or at least ground her until she was eighteen.
Maybe even make her sit next to Tim at the dinner table, too.
Tears pricked Martha’s eyes. How in hell had her life come to this? She’d given the best she had to her marriage and to her kids, taking for granted that life might throw them some curves, but they’d live happily ever after in Shelter Valley.
“So what happened once you got the call?” David’s words were not quite welcome, as they brought her back to her chaotic life.
Brought her back to the fact that hope served no purpose but to bring unending pain at its demise.
“I went home to find out what Ellen knew, and Shelley was already there. She was in her room, apparently studying. I called through the door, just to be sure she hadn’t pulled a fast one on Ellen, but I didn’t go in. There wasn’t time to have it out with her then. I told her to stay home tonight. To which she replied that she’d planned on it.” With shoulders growing heavier by the second, Martha continued, “I’ll talk to her either when we get home tonight or tomorrow after school.”
“If she stays in school.”
