Jack Murray, Sheriff

Her mind wanted to balk. Not Ray. It couldn’t be Ray. She had loved him once, married him! How could she not have known what he was beneath the facade?

Again she heard, as though as a faint echo, Murray’s voice. How long will just scaring you be enough?

“Mom.”

Beth tuned in to find both girls looking reproachfully at her.

“Are you listening?” Stephanie asked.

“Yes, of course,” she lied. “But let’s hear about Lauren’s day now.”

Her younger daughter wrinkled her nose. “It was boring. But I forgot to tell you….” Strangely, she hesitated, darting a glance between her sister and her mother. “Well, last Tuesday…or maybe it was the day before…anyway,” she finished in a rush, “you know that man who came to our house when Daddy was so mad.”

Stephanie looked down at her plate. Beth nodded. “He’s the county sheriff.”

“Well, he came and talked to our class.”

Surprised and disturbed, Beth said, “About anything in particular?”

“Just what to do when you’re home alone. Stuff like that. He was really nice.”

Nice. If you didn’t mind being treated like a helpless woman who ought to be grateful for “protection.”

No, that wasn’t fair, Beth admitted reluctantly. He was nice. He’d stopped when he didn’t have to get involved, listened patiently, offered sound advice and never given her the feeling that he considered her to blame in any way.

“I’m glad you thought so,” she said neutrally. She tried to make her voice casual, the new subject not an obvious extension of the last one. “Listen, guys, have either of you talked to your dad this week?”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Stephanie duck her head again. Stick-straight brown hair brushed her cheek, and thick dark lashes shielded her eyes. She crumbled her garlic bread without actually eating any of it.

But Lauren said, “He called last night.”

“Did he have anything special to say?”

A small frown furrowed her brow. “I don’t think so.”

“Did he tell you what time he’ll pick you up Saturday?”

“I don’t remember.”

Without looking up, Stephanie mumbled, “The usual time.”

“Is he taking you anywhere?”

“He said maybe to a movie. Mom—” Stephanie stopped abruptly. “Never mind.”

“Come on.” Beth reached over and brushed her daughter’s hair back from her face. “You can’t start and not finish.”

Stephanie shrugged, looking almost sullen for a moment. “It’s not any big deal. It’s just… He’s always promising to do something with us, and then he doesn’t. I mean, I’d like it if he’d take us to a movie or Art In The Park or someplace, but he never does. I wish he wouldn’t promise something when he doesn’t mean it.”

“Oh, honey.” Beth reached over to lift her daughter’s chin. She struggled to hide her own sadness. “Have you talked to him about this?”

There Steph went again, hunching her shoulders and refusing to meet her mother’s eyes, as she had increasingly often lately. “No,” she mumbled.

“You know, he isn’t a mind reader. Maybe he’s just been tired, maybe having you at home with him makes your dad feel more like you’re a real family. Try talking to him.”

For what good it would do, Beth thought grimly. There had been a time when Ray listened. Now, it seemed as if he was too self-absorbed to think about anyone else’s feelings. Or was she just being negative, projecting her own anger?

Stephanie shrugged and made an unhappy face. “But if I say something, it sounds…oh, I don’t know, like I’m saying he lied! And it’s not that. It’s just that it’s kind of boring at his apartment, and I wish he wouldn’t tell us he’s going to take us somewhere and get us excited and stuff, and then not do it. You know?”

“Sure I do.” Beth stood long enough to give her daughter a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. “But I still say you need to talk to him. If you don’t tell him differently, he may think you’d rather not go anyplace special.”

Another twitch of the shoulders and an unenthusiastic “Yeah, I guess.”

Lauren had been listening without comment, but now she said, “I’ll talk to him. I don’t mind.”

“No!” Stephanie said with quick alarm. “You’ll tell Dad I think he breaks his promises. I don’t want him to know that.”

“I won’t…”

“Yes, you will! Don’t you dare say anything to Dad!”

Lauren stuck out her tongue. “Well, then you do it.”

They were off and running with the kind of bickering calculated to fray any parent’s patience. As she dealt with them, Beth reminded herself of how well they usually got along. And at least the quarrel was reassuringly normal. The day when neither wanted to talk about their father at all was the day when she really had to worry.

As if she wasn’t worrying now.

BETH ADDED PAPER to the copying machine, snapped the tray back into place and smiled at the customer. “All set.”

“Thanks.” The woman, a volunteer at the local animal shelter, went back to copying fliers about a free spay/neuter day.

Hearing her name, Beth turned. Maria Bernal, a friend who owned a women’s clothing store half a block away, was hurrying down the aisle between printer cartridges and pens. Hispanic, a little plump and very pretty, Maria took Beth’s arm and steered her into the back room. “Well, did he bring the kids home on time this weekend?”

“More or less.” Beth automatically gathered up the remains of an employee’s sack lunch left on the one table and tossed it in the garbage. “He was only an hour late.” Her dry tone didn’t reveal how torturous that hour had been to Beth, who had come to dread every one of the girls’ visits to their dad.

“You look tired.” Never less than blunt, Maria studied her with the practical eye she’d give a new clothing line. “Why no sleep? Is he still calling and hanging up?”

Beth took a can of cola from the tiny refrigerator and, after Maria shook her head at the offering, popped the top. She needed the caffeine, although the artificial energy would do nothing for the weariness adding years to her face.

“I don’t know that he…” she began.

Her friend waved an impatient hand. “Okay, whoever. Is it still happening?”

Beth’s voice went flat. “The past two nights it’s been the doorbell instead. The first couple of times, one of the girls answered and nobody was there. God, I was scared when I realized—” She broke off. “What’s horrible is that he must have been watching somewhere. The second time it was Steph, and she was scared to death. She had the sense to slam the door quick and lock it, but when I came running she was shaking. He must have seen.” Beth searched her friend’s face. “How could he do it to her, Maria?”

“God, I don’t know.” Maria took her hand and squeezed. “The son of a… Well, you know what I think of him. And we’re not talking about ‘whoever’ here, are we.” It wasn’t a question.

“I don’t know,” Beth said desperately. “It’s hard to believe Ray could be so cruel.”