Brenda Novak - Home to Whiskey Creek

“All three of them?” It wasn’t a large force; it never had been.

“All three of them,” she confirmed, oblivious to Adelaide’s sarcasm. “But...how’d someone get past the door? Wasn’t it locked?”

Adelaide was embarrassed to admit she’d not only unlocked it, she’d left it open. Gran kept the house so hot she couldn’t sleep. “I needed some air,” she explained.

The skin below Gran’s throat wagged as she shook her head. “In this day and age, you can’t go to bed with your doors unlocked. Even in Whiskey Creek. I haven’t done it in twenty-three years, ever since your Grandpa passed.”

The house had no air-conditioning. During the summer, they had to open their windows—essentially the same thing, but Adelaide didn’t argue.

Gran’s gaze lowered to Adelaide’s bare legs. “The man who took you...he didn’t—”

“No.” She understood where her grandmother’s thoughts were going. Noah’s had just traveled down the same path. Anyone would think of sexual assault, especially since she wasn’t fully clothed.

“Then why’d he do it?” Gran persisted.

She needed to downplay what had occurred. Tell only as much as she had to so it would go away as soon as possible. And whatever she said had to be believable, first and foremost. “I think he intended to rape me but...I fought him off.”

“What took you so long to get home? You haven’t been with him this whole time, have you?”

Adelaide wished she didn’t have to mention the mine. She didn’t want it connected to her, didn’t want anyone to be reminded of Cody and his graduation party. But even if she lied about that part, Noah would give away the truth when he said where he’d found her. She hadn’t been able to offer him a single compelling reason not to share that information. She couldn’t, not without raising his suspicion as to why she wanted it kept quiet. And, other than Chief Stacy and maybe his father, he was the last person whose curiosity she wanted to arouse.

Left with no choice, she told Gran what’d happened, and who’d saved her.

“Noah’s such a nice boy,” she said.

Not if he was anything like his brother. Adelaide owed him for what he’d done tonight, but she didn’t have a positive impression of him from high school. He’d been one of those senior “gods” she’d worshipped, one who’d acted as if he owned the school. Never had she known him to be aware of the plight of those around them or to care. She told herself it was a miracle he’d bothered to come to her rescue.

“Thank goodness he was in the right place at the right time,” Gran was saying. “That’s one of the Lord’s tender mercies. But why didn’t he take you to the hospital?”

“I wouldn’t let him.”

“Then we need to go now.” She moved her walker forward as if intent on getting her purse, but Addy caught her arm.

“There’s no need.”

“Of course there is. You’re bleeding!”

“I’m fine, Gran. This looks much worse than it is. Trust me, it’d be a waste of time and money. Nothing’s broken.”

“We should still—”

“I wasn’t raped,” she insisted. “What can they do other than clean my wounds? We can do that here.”

Gran’s concern warred with the practicality of Adelaide’s argument. She’d always been frugal. “You’re certain?”

Adelaide mustered a reassuring smile. “Positive.”

“Okay, but I should at least let Chief Stacy know you’re home. He’ll be anxious to talk to you—”

“Not tonight,” she interrupted. “There’s no need to wake him. I’m too exhausted to answer any questions at the moment.”

“But you’ll want to give him a statement as soon as possible, while you can remember the details.”

“I don’t know anything that will help figure out who did this, Gran. I can’t even provide a description. The man was wearing a ski mask.” She actually had four men to choose from, but she couldn’t make a determination by body type alone, not when they’d all probably filled out and changed so much. Chances were she’d recognize their faces if she happened across them, but the person who’d dragged her from her bed last night had been careful to hide his identity.

“There’s his height, his weight—”

“Both a blur to me. Can’t it wait until tomorrow? Please? I’m not up to being grilled.” She managed a pleading expression. “Even by you.”

Empathy etched deeper grooves in Gran’s wrinkled face. “Okay, we’ll wait, if that’s what you want. Maybe you’ll remember something important once you’ve had a chance to recover.”

Or not. “Thanks.”

“I’m so glad you’re back, honey. I don’t know what I would’ve done if...if this had ended differently. You’ve always been my Addy, my pride and joy.”

Hearing the tears in her voice, Adelaide gave her another hug. “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Milly was a proud woman, not one to cry easily. With a sniff, she straightened her spine and motioned for Adelaide to follow her to the kitchen. “Come in here so we can get you cleaned up.”

“Shouldn’t we do that in the bathroom?”

“There’s more room in the kitchen. More light, too.”

That was true. Gran’s house was one of a handful of local homes listed on the National Register of Historic Places. As was the style a hundred years ago, it had tall ceilings, thick molding, elaborate cut-glass windows and—the one downside besides the old plumbing and wiring they’d had to replace—small bathrooms. “I’ve got to shower first.”

Reluctantly, Gran let her disappear into the bathroom, and Adelaide took her time stripping off Noah’s sweatshirt and her filthy clothes before standing beneath the hot spray.

Blood and dirt ran off her body, circling the drain and taking the last of her energy with it. When she’d finished scrubbing, she could only stand there and stare as the last of the soap bubbles disappeared.

“Addy, you coming?”

Gran’s voice brought her out of her stupor.

“Be right there,” she called, and turned off the water. She’d hoped her grandmother would give up and go to bed, allow her to recover on her own. But she should’ve known better. Gran would never leave her like this.

“Can you grab the bandages from under the bathroom sink before you come?”

“Sure.” Her body complained at the movement but—even injured—it was easier for her to crouch than Gran. Tossing her towel aside, she sorted through the laxatives, extra soap, Listerine and bath salts.

She found a small box of Band-Aids, but she wasn’t sure what good they were going to be. Abrasions covered most of her arms and legs.

“We need gauze,” she muttered, but she wasn’t about to go to the store—or let Gran attempt to drive there. The only drugstore open this late would be halfway to Sacramento.

Gran had a cup of tea waiting for her when she entered the kitchen. Adelaide could smell the mint. She normally liked tea, but tonight she didn’t have enough strength to hold the cup. And she had another problem. While pulling on a pair of cutoffs and a tank top she’d figured out why her legs hurt worse in back. Thanks to the fact that she’d slid down the wooden supports of that mine shaft when whoever it was had shoved her in, she had as many slivers in her butt and thighs as she did on her hands.

They had to come out and she couldn’t do it on her own, so she’d brought the magnifying glass Gran used for reading and a pair of tweezers, along with the Band-Aids. She hoped her grandmother would be able to help because Adelaide couldn’t wait to crawl into bed and block the past twenty or so hours from her mind. Everything from that first terrifying image of a man looming over her bed to the shocking realization that it was Cody’s brother who’d pulled her out of the deep, dark hole. The hole that might otherwise have become her grave.