My Name Is River Blue (47 page)

That night's
dream was different from other versions, and I'm sure it was because of our shopping
trip. In the new nightmare, the grinning Malley was wearing a white, baseball
cap with a green shamrock, and the side of the cab showed the name "Lucky
Trucking" in green letters on white. When the truck bumped the driver's
side of Ant's car, I looked to my right to see that we were headed for the
guardrail, and when I looked back at the truck, Big Bill Summers was driving
it. I screamed when Ant and I broke through the rail.

In reality, I really
did
scream, and I woke Carlee. It was not the first time that she had
held me after a nightmare and spoke soothing words to assure me that I was safe.
As usual, my face and chest were sweaty and Carlee, as usual, quietly retrieved
a hand towel to dry me. I loved the pampering. I just hated the reason for it.

"Was it a
bad one?" Carlee whispered the words as she wiped my chest.

"Yeah, same
one where my old CO runs us off the road but with a twist."

"What was
different?"

"I saw the
name on the cab door. It was clear this time. And the dream didn't stop until
our car was falling."

"What
name?"

I looked at
Carlee and debated a second before telling her. "Not that it means
anything, but it was 'Lucky Trucking.' Just like the truck we saw when we went
to the outlet mall."

"That's
kind of weird, but I can see how your mind would throw that name in there since
that truck almost hit us."

"It was so
real. Very real. Like it really happened, and I'm just now remembering."

Carlee sat
straight. Her face serious. "Are you saying that you really believe that
Malley was driving one of my father's trucks and ran you off the road?"

"No, of
course, not. I told you that Malley didn't get out of prison until March. There
was no way he could have driven that truck but..."

"But?"

"I don't
know. Forget it."

"No, I want
to know what you're thinking. Do you really believe it was one of my father's
trucks? Are you thinking that my father had something to do with the
accident?"

"No. I'm
sorry, Carlee. It's just my head messing with me. Even though you told your dad
some crap that made him mad at me the day of the accident, he would have been
crazy to risk all he has just to keep me away from you."

"River, my
father can be a jerk, but I can't believe that he would do something like that.
Not just to you but to Ant too. Besides, he didn't really hate you at the time,
or he wouldn't have acted the way he did."

"What do
you mean? I'm confused."

"Well, you
may not remember, but the night of the barn party I was spending the night with
Tina. We left for her house a few minutes after you and Ant took off, and we
had been in bed for maybe an hour or so when my father called. He told me that
he had just heard that you and Ant had been in a serious accident. He wanted to
drive me to the hospital before I found out and tried to drive myself on roads
that might be icy."

"Good
thinking on his part," I admitted.

"He picked
up Max on the way to Tina's house and of course, Tina wanted to go, so there
were four of us. By the time we arrived, we heard that Ant was dead, and they
were still working on you. Tina was hysterical over Ant, and Max took Dad's car
to drive her home.'

"Dad waited
there with me for hours. We talked a lot, and I learned that there were things
he didn't like about you, but he respected how hard you and Ant worked to rise
above your backgrounds. He said it was a shame that one mistake from some piss
poor truck driver killed Ant and hurt you. He even joined me in a prayer that
you would recover and still have the same bright future ahead of you. That
doesn't sound like someone who wanted to run you guys off the road, does
it?"

"No, it
doesn't." I was shocked, but not because Carlee's father joined her in a
prayer for my recovery. "Carlee, tell me again what he said about the
truck driver. I'm not sure I caught it all."

"Well, like
I said the first time, he thought it was a shame. You know how in just a brief
moment that one person's mistake can cause so much damage. He said the truck
driver was either very inexperienced or very careless to try to pass you on
such a dangerous curve, especially since he should have known there might be
ice."

"Did he say
who told him about the accident?"

"No, if he
did, I don't remember. I assumed it was a friend. What's so important about who
told him?"

I wasn't sure
what to say or how to say it. I didn't want to upset Carlee.

"River? Are
you going to answer me?"

"Carlee,
why don't we get some sleep and talk in the morning."

"No. You're
not doing that to me. I won't go to sleep unless you tell me."

When I chose to
answer Carlee truthfully, I made an error in judgment, and I have wished a
thousand times that I could return to that moment and take back my words.

"Okay. I'm
not sure what it means, but the fact is that until I told them, the cops didn't
know that a truck ran us off the road. They thought that it was a single car
accident. That we hit a patch of ice and skidded through the rail."

"Okay,"
said Carlee. I saw her trying to understand the significance of what I said,
and she didn't get it until I added more to it. The part that changed
everything.

"I didn't
tell the cops or anyone else until several days after the accident. Until then,
the only people who could have known that a truck was involved in the accident
were the truck driver, anyone the truck driver told, and me. The info your
father gave you had to have originated from the driver who ran us off the
road."

I watched Carlee
grasp my words and shake her head as if she could make it all untrue. "My
father wouldn't do something like that, but maybe the person who told him did,
or maybe that person heard about the truck from someone else."

"Yeah,
that's true," I admitted. "The information could have been passed
down through more than one person before it got to your father, but I doubt it
was so many that we couldn't trace it back. I mean there wasn't that much time
between the accident and when your father told you."

Carlee's
expression was one of determination. "Well, I'm going to talk to my father.
I'm sure that he will want to inform the police when I tell him that the info
he shared with me came from the truck driver."

I was trying to
word my thoughts carefully since Carlee was already on the defensive about the
possibility of her father's involvement. "Maybe the best idea is to first
tell the police what we know. If you tell your father, he could unintentionally
warn the real trucker, or something worse could happen. I mean it's possible
that your dad could get hurt."

"Yeah,
that's true. I'll think about it."

"Let's talk
tomorrow before we do anything. Want to get some sleep?"

"Yeah. I
love you." Carlee kissed me gently on the lips and snuggled in under my
arm.

As I held her, I
knew that sleep would not come easily. I didn't want to think that even a jerk
like Big Bill could have deliberately tried to kill Ant and me, but I certainly
had questions and a bad feeling that our accident was never really an accident.

It made sense
that a friend of Big Bill's would have called him with the news, but how did
the story ever get that far so fast? Why would the truck driver tell anyone at
all? If Big Bill were the driver, then taking Carlee to the hospital and
praying with her in the waiting room would help throw suspicion off him. Maybe
mentioning the truck to Carlee was a slip of the tongue.

If the truck
really was a "Lucky Trucking" vehicle, what was it doing in an area
the company didn't service? The only connections the truck had to Bergeron
County were the Summers brothers, and Big Bill knew that a truck caused the
accident. The coincidence stunk.

I concluded that
Big Bill was the only one I knew with motive, opportunity, and the
"weapon" to cause the accident. Carlee had already angered him about
our relationship earlier on the day of the accident. He would have known Ant
and I were at the barn party that night and which road we would take home. It
was hard for me to believe that he allowed Carlee to spend so much time with me
after the accident simply because he was such a compassionate man. I believed
that it could have been guilt and keeping the appearance that he didn't wish me
harm.

One thing that
had bothered me since homecoming night was the fact that Bill Summers had never
taken his revenge for me punching him, and Big Bill was much more likely to
hold a grudge until death than he was to turn the other cheek.

It was close to
dawn before I reached the decision that Carlee and I should only give our
information on my accident to the police. As much as I tried to believe that
her father was not really a bad man, I was anything but comfortable with the
idea of Carlee confronting him. Even if he had nothing to do with the accident,
I knew that he didn't like anyone questioning him. He had already proven that when
he was angry, he could lose control and get physical with his family. I didn't
want Carlee to face one of his rages alone.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT

When I woke up,
blinding sunshine was pouring through the window, and I knew that I had slept
much longer than I had intended. On the way to the bathroom, I glanced at my
watch and saw that it was already a few minutes past noon. Carlee was already
gone, and I assumed that she was waiting for me up at Papa's house. I thought
that she had probably already eaten breakfast, read the paper, and knocked off
a few household chores.

I dressed in my
jeans, a tee shirt, and sandals. As I took my wallet off the nightstand, I saw a
note from Carlee.

River, you were
sleeping so peacefully that I didn't want to wake you. I'm going to the store
to pick up groceries so that Papa and Tyler don't come back from their trip to
find that we're out of food. I will be back no later than noon, and you can
tell me what you have planned for the rest of the day. I hope I didn't sound
too defensive last night because it scares me when you're angry with me. I'm
really trying not to make any more mistakes like in the past. See you soon.

Love Carlee

Since it was
already past noon, I assumed that Carlee would be back soon. I didn't want her
to think that I was upset with her, but I was glad that she realized that she might
have been too defensive. I wanted her to understand that I was only keeping an
open mind about how her father could have known about the truck's involvement
in the accident. I thought that a good hug and a few of the right words would
have Carlee and me back to normal, and then we could discuss what to do with
our information.

Papa had taken
Tyler camping and fishing, and they were due back late that afternoon. It was Tyler's
last chance before school started, and he loved spending time with Papa at the
lake.

In Papa's
kitchen, I ate a bowl of oatmeal and a banana. While I waited for Carlee to
come home with the groceries, I read the newspaper she had left on the kitchen
table. When she still wasn't home by one o'clock, I called her cell phone. I
smiled as I thought of how she often made unplanned stops at stores and browsed
until she lost track of time. It wasn't that unusual for her to be late, but I
was anxious to make sure that we were okay. Her phone rang until it went to
voicemail, but I decided to text her rather than leaving a voice message.

Where r u? When
u coming home?

About five
minutes later, my cell signaled the incoming message from Carlee's phone.

Safe with Dad. Don't
call again. We're over.

I read it five
times. The words sickened me. I knew that Carlee would never joke that way about
us because she was too serious about our relationship. Just that morning, the
same girl left me a note saying that she hoped that I was not angry with her. Apparently,
she had decided to go to her father's house without me. Had her father come up
with a big lie to turn Carlee against me? The only way I knew to find out was
to ask her, and I decided that if she was breaking it off with me that she
would have to do it to my face. I don't even remember walking out to my car,
but within minutes of receiving the text message, I was driving to Bill
Summers' house.

When I parked my
Honda in the Summers' circular drive, I saw Carlee's Lexus parked on one of the
concrete pads next to the garage. When I reached the front door of the house, I
saw that someone had left the door cracked open a few inches. It was odd, but I
gave it only a brief thought before I pushed the door open the rest of the way
and peeked inside. I saw nothing out of the ordinary. I stepped inside and
called Carlee's name, but there was no answer. I walked slowly through the
large hall and checked each downstairs room as I came to it. I found Carlee by
the huge stone fireplace in the family room.

Carlee wore
jeans and a blue short-sleeved top that always looked good on her. Her blond
hair was in a ponytail. I could only see one side of her face and one blue eye,
which was slightly open and appeared to stare at something across the floor. I
stood in the doorway and watched her for what felt like an eternity, but was no
more than thirty seconds and in those thirty seconds, she never changed the
focus of her eye, and she didn't move a muscle, not even to breathe. She simply
stayed in her prone position on the floor in front of the fireplace as if she
were napping. Napping forever.

I was suddenly on
my knees by her side. I searched her cool wrist for a pulse but found none. I
had not noticed the blood from my view in the doorway, but by kneeling next to
her, I could see the puddle under her head. I noticed another streak of blood
on one of the large stones that formed the base of the fireplace.

I'm not sure why
I reacted as I did. I'm not sure why I wasn't screaming for help except that I
knew she was beyond helping. I'm not sure why I wasn't balling my eyes out over
losing the only girl that I ever loved. The girl I planned to marry after
college. I don't know why I didn't look for the cause of her death, or why my
brain wasn't screaming that her father had something to do with it. I don't
know why I forgot about the text message from her and my reason for being
there.

Looking back on
it, I think my rational mind shut down when I sat on the floor next to Carlee
and stroked her hair. It all suddenly made sense to me. I knew it wasn't real. It
wasn't possible for me to lose Carlee. Not after all I had already lost. Not
Carlee too. It had to be another nightmare. A strangely realistic one.

I stretch out
beside Carlee and continue to stroke her hair. I wish I could finish the dream
so that I'm not in her father's house. Then, as if I called him to my dream, I
hear the big man's voice behind me. He is yelling something, and he comes to
us, stops and kneels on the other side of Carlee. He feels her neck, curses
loudly, and stands over me. The man roars like an angry grizzly as he kicks me
once in the ribs, once in the head, and again in my ribs. I bite my tongue and taste
blood in my mouth. My head hurts. I'm dizzy. I don't have the energy to respond.
Can you really taste anything in a dream? Doesn't Big Bill know this isn't real?
Damn, why won't he calm down? I feel pressure in my head like my brains will
blow out my ears. The grizzly looks fuzzy. The room is darker.

Big Bill is
talking loudly on the phone. I hear him say that River Blue came into his house
to take his daughter. That we fought and she died. He says I killed Carlee. I
call him a moron and tell him to get out of my dream. He keeps on yelling into
his phone, and I tell him that he's a freaking idiot, and I see that he has a
gun pointed at me. I think he is an even bigger ass in my dream than he is in
person. I tell him to
quit his lying, and again, I tell him to get the hell out of my dream. Past
Big Bill, I see that Max is staring at me from the doorway, and he thinks I've
hurt Carlee. His body hitches with loud sobs.

It's crazy, but
I snuggle up to Carlee and go to sleep. I wake up to cops and EMTs. So many people
and all of them are talking at once. There are hands all over me. Hands
prodding, patting, feeling, and pulling me up. A cop jerks my arms behind me
and cuffs my wrists. The metal is cold and pinches my skin. Can you feel cold
in a dream? I hear loud voices and quiet voices and phones ringing. An EMT
talks to me, and I only see his lips move before I hear screaming and wailing so
loud that it sounds as if it's coming from me. Hands push me down and strap me to
a stretcher. I feel a sharp stick in my arm and then there's warmth flooding
through me and taking me away to float through darkness towards nothing.

***

Six days after
an ambulance transported me under police guard to the Bergeron County Hospital,
my mind rejoined the real world, which had turned into a very ugly place for
me. Losing Carlee was devastating, but my despair grew even worse when I
realized that I was under arrest for causing her death.

With his version
of the events leading to Carlee's death, the detective in charge of the case
convinced the solicitor to bring charges against me. According to the cop, Carlee
left her abusive relationship with me for the safety of her father's home. He
said that I stormed into the Summers' house to take Carlee back to the farm,
and when she refused to go with me, I tried to force her physically. He
concluded that during our struggle, I pushed her down where she fell against
the fireplace and suffered a fatal blow to her head. The solicitor believed
that he could use the results of the detective's investigation to convince a
jury that I was responsible for Carlee's death.

I was fortunate
to spend only one night in the Bergeron County jail. The authorities had been
busy while I was in the hospital and were all set for my hearing the morning
after my discharge. My night in the jail could have been much worse because
everyone generally treated me decently with the exception of one smartass black
guard, who apparently had a chip on his shoulder from when he was in high
school. Some jock must have made his life miserable because he gloated over the
fact that I was in trouble. It was hard for me to ignore him when he told me
that he used to be a guard in the men's state prison and that he knew what I
was up against after my conviction.

I knew that the
stories of assaults on young inmates were exaggerated by the entertainment
industry, but I also knew that the attacks happened often enough to be of
legitimate concern. I didn't need anyone to tell me that after my injuries from
the car accident, I was not fit to fight one grown man in good shape much less
two or more. Thoughts of prison just added to my depression and my sense of
hopelessness that grew stronger each day.

Carlee's death
weighed on me so much that there were times when the pressure on my chest seemed
to squeeze me until I couldn't breathe. I couldn't ease the pain of losing her,
and the fact that I was accused of hurting her made me want to scream loudly
enough for the whole town to hear how much we loved each other. When she died,
I was still grieving over the loss of Ant and my future. I was still sorting through
my emotions over losing my parents before I ever had a chance to know them. I didn't
think I had the strength to recover from losing Carlee too, and most days, I
didn't even want to try.

Every day, I
spent hours alone in my room over the barn. I thought of Carlee and tried to
remember every little detail about her. I would hold her pillow to my face,
smell her scent, and add my tears. Those first few weeks, I had little desire
to live without her, and I thought of ending my life on my terms instead of
serving time in state prison for something I didn't do. Without the support of
Papa, Uncle Manny, and Tyler, I believe that I might have given up on my life.

One day when I
was walking a trail with Papa, I asked him how long it took for the pain of
losing his Lisa to go away. He told me that if it ever stopped hurting, he
would let me know.

For the first
time, I asked Papa why he had never been serious enough with another woman to
marry her. I knew that he and Miss Martin were closer than mere friends were,
and they were very quiet about the nights they spent together. Over the years,
there had been a few mornings when I saw Miss Martin leave Papa's house early
enough to get to her job, and just as many mornings when I saw Papa returning
to the farm about the time that I would be waking up. He told me that his
feelings for Lisa would never change enough to be fair to a wife, and that his
relationship with Amy Martin was what they both wanted. Papa wouldn't say any
more about his past or current love life.

Papa hired
Pierce Lee to handle my case. He was a criminal defense attorney from Columbia
with a good reputation in the state. I was astonished when Mr. Lee informed me
that the state was charging me with attempted kidnapping and felony murder. From
what the cops had told me, I thought the charge would be involuntary
manslaughter at worst, but Mr. Stark, the solicitor, thought he could get a
jury to buy that I was forcing Carlee to come with me against her will. Since attempted
kidnapping was a felony, if she died during the commission of that crime, then
by law, I was guilty of felony murder.

At the hearing, Mr.
Stark proposed that the judge remand me to the custody of the county jail until
after my trial, but my attorney and Papa presented a different suggestion. Judge
Folk had known Papa all of his life, and when Papa guaranteed that I would
remain on his property except for court appearances, the judge took his word. Papa
posted bail, and I went home to Deer Lake Farm. It was easy to keep Papa's
promise because I had no desire to go anywhere or see anyone.

During my first
meeting with Mr. Lee, we discussed my background until he knew anything of
importance about me. I gave him every detail I could remember about my
nightmare, my conversation with Carlee the night before she died, and the
events of the next day that ended with my arrest at Bill Summers' house. I
offered him my opinion that Carlee's father might have admitted to her that he was
responsible for having Ant's car run off the road. I suggested that she
threatened to tell on him, and they ended up fighting. I thought he was
probably afraid to let her go until he could make her promise not to talk. I
proposed that Big Bill could have accidently caused Carlee to fall on the
fireplace where she suffered a fatal blow to her head.