Page 9 of Silent Deception
Though those new beginnings weren’t going to be entirely smooth. Cody had been acting out a lot more over the past few weeks. And her bank balance was close to zero.
On top of that, some people in town who’d started to welcome her had stopped when she’d introduced herself. It was as if they’d recognized her, and their smiles had faded.
She’d been just a child when she and her mother had fled this town over twenty years ago, but her father had stayed...and obviously there were still people who remembered the Cantrell name.
And that, she realized with a heavy heart, could make living here more difficult than she’d imagined.
* * * *
CODY GLARED AT THETV in the corner of the living room, wishing he could kick in the snowy haze on the screen and throw the whole thing out the window.
There were a million places they could’ve moved to, but Mom had chosen this one—an old house surrounded by high, rocky hills in the middle of nowhere. A place where exactly one channel came in clearly, but only if a guy stood with a hand on the top of the TV and thumped it now and then.
What did kids do around here? No sidewalks. No playgrounds, unless you drove all the way into town, and that was a good ten miles. No neighbors with kids and dogs and tree houses.
The onlygoodthing about moving was that he’d gotten out of Mrs. Morgan’s class back in San Antonio. She’d been mean. Always blaming him for the whispering at the back of the class or for the spitballs thrown at the kids in the front row. He’d had a timeout almost every day, and thattotallysucked.
At least his new teacher seemed nice. She smiled a lot and came over to ask him if he needed help, because she said he’d need to catch up on her lessons. She smelled pretty good, too...not like Mrs. Morgan, who must’ve taken a bath in perfume every morning and had breath worse than Ben’s old dog next door.
Cody listened to the thumping and scraping coming from upstairs, where Mom was unpacking more boxes and pushing furniture around, then he went out onto the porch and leaned over to brace his elbows on the railing. Dropping his chin into his hands, he stared out at the hills that seemed to roll on forever, clear over to where the sun was starting to drop lower in the sky.
There were supposed to be big snakes out here. Big,bigrattlesnakes, coyotes, and even armadillos—like the ones in his favorite Jan Brett storybook. Maybe there was even a mama armadillo parading through the low cedar bushes and sagebrush right now, followed by a train of little armadillos.
Dad called armadillos “speed bumps” because you sometimes saw them dead along Texas roads, but the possibility of seeing a live one sent Cody off the porch in two big leaps.
With a last glance over his shoulder at the house, he hopped over the low stone wall and jogged past Mom’s Tacoma pickup, stopping to survey the possibilities. Where, exactly, did armadillos like to go?
To the right of the house, he could see the tops of a big stand of trees growing past the next hill. They were probably those huge, shady old live oaks that Mom said could be hundreds of years old.
Surely, with a hot sun overhead all day—even though it was almost the beginning of September—an armadillo would like a shady place to rest.
Grinning, he broke into a run.
* * * *
NOT AGAIN.Kristin frantically raced through the house one more time, checking the closet and even beneath the beds.
She’d hoped her son would start doing better away from the emotional abuse his father had doled out. But since the divorce, Cody had been unpredictable—clinging one minute, rebellious the next.
He sometimes hid from her when he was upset, apparently finding some sort of satisfaction in crying quietly by himself and ignoring her pleas to come out.
But this time, she sensed the emptiness of the house. Where could he have gone? The sun had set and the western sky was deepening from lavender into purple and indigo. And already, the chilly night air was settling in.
“Cody!” she called out, searching around the yard for any sign of him. In exasperation, she widened her search to include the old, empty barn and the small, one-car garage too narrow for her modern vehicle.
The lane leading out to the highway was empty, the powdery caliche limestone revealing only tire tracks. But Cody could’ve skirted the lane and headed cross country on some adventure without regard for the temperature, the approach of nightfall, or the fact that he had absolutely no knowledge of the area.
And just within the boundaries of her own twenty acres, he could so easily be lost. Running now, she shouted his name as she searched farther and farther from the house.
Only a distant owl returned her calls.
Her heart pounding, she slowly turned in a full circle, watching for any sort of movement.
Nothing.
With a cry of frustration, she ran back to the house to grab her cell phone and call for help.Did 911 even work out here?Surely there’d be local police or a county sheriff, and maybe even a dog that tracked.
She lunged up the steps and breathlessly pawed through the packing materials on the kitchen counter until her fingers curled around the familiar shape of her cell phone.
