Last Chance Book Club(38)
Author: Hope Ramsay

Hettie checked her watch. It was almost three-thirty. The middle school let out in about ten minutes, and Savannah probably had to go pick up Todd.

Hettie’s first inclination was to pick up the phone and call Rocky. This was hot stuff. But her second inclination was something altogether different.

The loneliness that she’d been valiantly battling for years settled over her like a heavy blanket. It was one thing to be lonely when you knew a man like Dash was just waiting there in the wings. And even if she didn’t love Dash and had never intended to be with him, seeing him with someone else made her envious.

And not because she wanted him. She just wanted what Dash and Savannah seemed to have found. She wanted to kiss someone like Savannah kissed Dash. Like she wanted to devour him.

Hettie squeezed her eyes shut and told herself that she was being silly. She reminded herself that her independence was more important than hot, sultry kisses.

But wait. Savannah was one of the most independent women Hettie had ever met. And there she was kissing on Dash Randall like he hung the moon. And, of course, Dash had given her a ton of money for the theater, but she didn’t even know it. Dash was doing everything he could to support that independence.

Damn.

She had misjudged him. Badly. He’d changed. He’d grown up. He was a better man than Jimmy ever could have been.

Of course, she didn’t love him. She never would. But mixed in with her own self-pity was a little glimmer of happiness. For Dash. Because Savannah was a wonderful woman.

And now, of course, it all made sense. No wonder Savannah had refused Bill’s proposal.

Hettie smiled. Maybe Rocky wasn’t the first person she needed to tell about this new, interesting development. Maybe Bill needed to know. She had a feeling that Bill might be relieved to find out that it wasn’t him Savannah had rejected. It was just a matter of chemistry.

And then she wondered if Bill knew anything about chemistry.

Todd seemed kind of subdued when Savannah picked him up from school.

“Did you have a good day?”

“It was okay.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

Sometimes trying to talk to a twelve-year-old was impossible.

When Savannah got home, a blue Chevy sedan blocked her parking spot in the drive. She parked in Dash’s normal spot and got out of the Honda.

A woman in a navy blue suit greeted her from the porch where she had obviously been waiting. “Savannah White?” the woman said, getting up out of one of the rockers.

“That’s me. What can I do for you?” Savannah headed for the porch. Todd hung back.

“Your aunt said I could wait for you here,” the woman said.

“And you are?”

“I’m Shawna Darrett with the Allenberg County office of the Department of Social Services.” She thrust out her hand. Savannah shook it with as firm a grip as she could muster.

“What can I do for you Ms. Darrett?”

The woman gazed at Todd, who was still standing by the car. “Honey, why don’t you go on inside while I speak with your mother.”

Todd strode forward, up the steps. “Are you going to ask her a bunch of dumb questions, too?”

Savannah turned on Todd. “What questions?”

“Mr. Middleton pulled me out of South Carolina history so I could talk with her. She asked me all kinds of questions about how I got the black eye.”

“How you got the black—honey, everyone knows how you got that black eye.”

“Yeah, but she wanted to make sure it wasn’t because Dash hit me or something.”

“What?”

He shrugged and then glared at Ms. Darrett. “Dash didn’t hit me, okay? And I don’t think his taking me out into the swamp to hunt for frogs was a big deal, either. Or taking me to meet Coach Canaday. Or playing football and Ultimate Frisbee with me.”

“Now, Todd, sometimes when an older man—”

“Zip it, lady. I’m going to walk Champ.” Todd turned and stomped into the house and slammed the door.

“What’s this about?” Savannah asked.

“Is your son always so rude?”

“Sometimes, when a complete stranger arrives and tells him that the only man who has ever shown any interest in him is being accused of abusing him. If you want to see abuse and neglect, try talking to Todd’s father.”

Ms. Darrett smiled. “Now, I know this is difficult. But we’re required to investigate every allegation of abuse and neglect. And someone made a report to our office that Todd was being abused, or was at risk of being abused. That he was living in a household with a man who is a substance abuser and who has a history of violence.”

“Who did this?”

“I’m not at liberty to say. It could have been an anonymous report. We get them all the time. Now, why don’t we sit down and talk about this, shall we?”

Savannah sat in one of the rockers as her fury mounted. This was exactly the sort of thing Claire would pull. It was ten times more effective than arson. And, of course, Claire had the best legal minds at her disposal. While Savannah was here on her own.

“I have a few questions about Dash Randall. I see that he was a professional baseball player. I looked up his history. Did you know that major-league baseball sent him to rehab on three separate occasions?”

“No.”

“You should have, especially since your son is living in the same house with him.”

“He’s family.”

“Most abusers are.”

“He didn’t abuse anyone. And he’s sober now. He goes to AA meetings every Thursday evening.”

“I know that. But he has a history of addiction and that’s not good. Now, during your time here, has Mr. Randall been involved in any violence? Any fighting or anything like that?”

Savannah’s stomach dropped. She had to be honest with this woman. “Uh, well, he got into a fight at Dot’s Spot a couple of months ago.”

“Dot’s Spot?”

She closed her eyes. “It’s a bar in town.”

“Was he drinking?”

“I don’t know. You’d have to ask Dot Cox, who owns the place. But he did get into a fight with Roy Burdett. And I can guarantee you that Roy was drinking. But aside from that one time I haven’t—”

“So he goes to bars on a regular basis.”

“No. Just that one time.”

“I see.”

“And he’s been showing a lot of attention to your son?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you think that’s odd?”

“No. I think it’s wonderful. Todd needs a man around, since his father has been absent most of his life.”

Shawna Darrett interlaced her fingers. She had very long nails painted an electric pink, and there were at least five rings distributed among her ten fingers. She might be wearing a blue suit, but behind that institutional exterior was a real human person.

After a long moment, the caseworker spoke. “Mrs. White, I know this is hard. And I know that Mr. Randall is well off and somewhat famous. But think about what happened up in Pennsylvania with that college coach. Sometimes predators look like the guy next door. They are the kind of men that kids gravitate toward. And I gather that Mr. Randall teaches a whole bunch of children up at that stable of his.”

Savannah could not believe the way this woman was twisting reality. “I’m sorry. Dash teaches kids to ride horses, and from what I’ve seen, he’s pretty good at it. And the kids he teaches seem to really like him. He also helps out the Little League, I’ve discovered. Not to mention Pop Warner football. And I’m not talking about just giving money. I’m talking about helping out with his time.”

“Exactly. That’s what predators do.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“And then there’s the allegation of arson and something to do with snakes. I spoke with the Allenberg sheriff, and while he seems to believe that Mr. Randall isn’t guilty of anything, it’s also a fact that the only people who have a key to the theater are you, Dash Randall, and the contractor.”

“The contractor left the door open. Dash did not burn down the theater.”

“But what about the snakes? I gather he put the snakes in the theater and then had someone videotape him catching them.”

“He did no such thing. I can’t believe the sheriff told you that.”

“Well, not exactly. But the sheriff did admit that Mr. Randall is still a person of interest in the case. As are you, I might add. Which is problematic.”

Emotions welled up in Savannah’s throat making it hard to respond to Ms. Darrett’s indictment. “You think I burned the theater? You think I’m a criminal?” she managed to say, despite the knot in her throat.

“No, ma’am. I’m just investigating the facts to make sure that Todd is taken care of.” Shawna leaned forward and put a hand on her knee. “I know this is hard. Mr. Randall is your cousin. But that’s the way these cases usually go. The bad actor is someone everyone trusts.”

“No. You’re crazy. Dash is not abusing Todd. He’s not a drug addict, or, God forbid, some kind of pedophile. And neither he nor I is an arsonist. Please, this is ridiculous.”

“According to my research, Mr. Randall came from an abusive home. You know that a very large percentage of abusers were abused themselves.”

“No. Stop. I’m not listening.” Savannah stood up, tears forming in her eyes.

“Ma’am, please, calm down. We’re just trying to do the best thing for your child. I have to tell you that, if you don’t cooperate in our investigation, we’ll have to take steps to put your child in a safer environment.”

She turned. “Safer environment? You mean foster care?”

“Well, it’s not perfect, but it—”

“You think foster care is better than living with his mother and his great-aunt and a guy who pays some attention to him?”

“Ma’am, if that guy is hurting him, and you’re letting him do it, then yes.”

“Oh, my God. This is crazy. This is my ex-mother-in-law trying to make my life a living hell. That’s all this is.”

“Well, that may be, but I would advise you to sit down and answer my questions in a calm manner. Otherwise things might not go so well for you.”

Savannah buttoned her lip and sniffled back her angry tears. She was not going to let Claire White defeat her. She was not going to let that woman smear Dash either.

She sat down. “What do you want to know?”

Dash strolled from his car to the house, a goofy smile on his face. He’d been sneaking around with Savannah for a week. And he’d stopped being scared and started feeling happy.

Happiness, he discovered, was addictive.

He was hooked on Savannah. Bad. But it didn’t feel bad. It didn’t feel destructive. It was just… good.

Because he had a feeling she was also hooked on him. And that was new and different and wonderful.

He wanted to come out, so to speak. There was no way they could continue to skulk around having dirty sex every afternoon without someone finding out. And he didn’t want to keep it a secret anymore.