a few clothes and a bottle of Seagram’s 7 into a duffle bag, then headed for Piney Acres. It was a long, slow, crappy drive, mostly back roads full of potholes. Twice he turned down the wrong road and ended up in a cow pasture.

The second time, he could feel the agitation pressing against his chest. Not good. He wanted to be at his best when he talked to Suzanna. He had to convince her he’d changed. But how was he supposed to do that when this trip was one lousy problem after another?

He didn’t always understand Suzanna, and now more so than ever. She hated the boonies, and Sun Grove was a city compared to this area. Okay, they’d gone through a number of rough patches and that last night was something that maybe shouldn’t have happened, but her leaving him to come here just didn’t make sense. Why, he asked himself. Why?

The question got stuck in his head and started to niggle him. Shortly after the paved road turned to gravel, he came up with an answer that only added to his misery. She’s still in love with the guy.

That thought was like a razor blade slicing off a piece of his heart. Trying to rid himself of it, he snapped on the radio and started searching for anything to take his mind off of the painfully obvious answer. He hoped to find a talk show or an oldies station, but all he got was static and crackling. After rotating the dial back and forth a dozen times, he finally caught what sounded like a voice and tried to zero in on that. For a while it was like a chicken squawking. When it cleared, he heard Big Jim saying they were in for two days of rain.

“Great, just great,” he grumbled and clicked the radio off.

Minutes later he spotted the sign: Piney Acres, 2 Miles. An arrow pointed to the right.

Piney Acres was a town that seemed to rise up out of nowhere: the streets paved with blacktop, the squat little houses clustered together in some spots and separated by overgrown thickets of scrub pine in others. On almost every corner there was a sign pointing the way to the Piney Acres Clubhouse and Golf Course.

Following the signs, Earl turned onto Long Drive Road and headed for the clubhouse. It seemed as good a spot as any to start. He’d ask a few questions, find out where Hibiscus Cove was located, and maybe, if he got lucky, catch someone who’d seen Suzanna.

After fifteen minutes of following Long Drive Road through the different neighborhoods, Earl’s frustration was close to the breaking point. The road went nowhere. It was an endless loop that wound its way through the streets then circled around and brought him right back to where he’d started. At first he’d only suspected it, but when he passed the same yellow and pink house for a third time he was absolutely certain.

He drove another five blocks and saw that same blasted sign on every corner. All of them with an arrow pointing to Long Drive Road.

“What the hell…” he grumbled.

He slowed down, hoping to see a second sign indicating a turn-off or a bend in the road he might have missed, but there was nothing. Shortly after he passed the yellow and pink house for the fourth time, he spotted a street sign for Clubhouse Drive. Figuring that had to be it, he turned in.

Several blocks down, the street dead-ended. A single-story building sat directly across the road. It was as low as the houses he’d passed but nearly a block wide. Above the door was a sign that read Piney Acres Clubhouse. Given the aggravation he’d already gone through, Earl was tempted to pull up to the front door and leave his car smack in front of the “No Parking” sign; he didn’t, but only because it would have been like thumbing his nose at the place. Right now, he had to make friends with whoever was inside. It was the only way he could find out what he needed to know.

To get from the parking lot to the entrance, he had to circle the building. Three-quarters of the way around, he heard a distant clap of thunder and quickened his step. In Florida the rain could be on one side of the street and not the other. It came and went in the blink of eye and was not worth worrying about. He hurried on and pushed through the front door.

The lobby had a desk and three leather sofas, all empty. In the center of the floor a stanchion sign read, “Golf Restricted – Cart Path Only – Men’s Luncheon Canceled”.

Earl wondered if that was good or bad as far as Bobby Doherty was concerned. If he were a golfer, would he have gone off to work instead? Or would he spend the day in bed with Suzanna the way Earl used to do?

Thoughts of how he and Suzanna had enjoyed those days saddened him. Annie, she was the problem. She was still an infant back then, but once she got old enough to talk, everything changed. First it was no swearing, then no walking around the house naked, and no drinking. Annie had taken all the fun out of life, and Suzanna didn’t even realize it. Maybe if he reminded her of how much fun they’d had, she might consider leaving the kid with Bobby. That was, if he’d be sucker enough to take her.

The sound of laughter came from the back, and Earl followed it down the hallway. Just beyond the double doors was a room full of tables, most of them occupied by poker-playing foursomes. Earl stood there for several minutes; no one turned, looked up, or bothered to greet him. Tired of waiting, he walked over to the nearest table and said, “Excuse me.”

The mustached man closest to him glanced up then looked back to his opponent across the table.

“I

Вы читаете A Million Little Lies
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