Chapter Nine
“That didn’t tell us very much,” Betty said once they were driving away from Blake Owens’s construction company.
Henry didn’t agree. Their meeting with Owens had told him a lot. “Do you know which houses Bauer has built for your father?”
“Yes, I can show you if you’d like.”
“How many are there?”
“Four, but I could only show you three. Father and James will most likely be at the fourth one, because it’s still being built.”
“Is it close to the others?”
“I’m not sure. I know where the three are because my sisters and I cleaned them after the construction was done. They are farther up the hill, past the one Mr. Owens built for Jack McCarney.”
“Does your father help James build the houses?”
She let out a sigh so long he had to glance her way.
Shrugging, she said, “I’m not sure what my father does. I believe he helps when they dig basements, because at times his clothes are very dirty.”
Henry didn’t know what to think of that. From what he understood, William Dryer didn’t seem like a physical-labor type of man, but Dryer did like money, and probably was willing to do whatever he needed to in order to make more—including using substandard supplies. It irked him that Dryer cared more about making money than he did his daughters. No father should be like that.
“Let’s take a drive up there.”
She nodded in agreement.
“How long have you been engaged to James?”
“Not long,” she answered, glancing out the side window.
Lane had told him that William had chosen James to marry Betty, for the pure fact that Bauer had money. James had inherited the building company from his father, but had also been working at it since he was a young man himself. Henry didn’t want anything about Bauer to be likable, which wasn’t like him. He wasn’t the type to be jealous of anyone, but whether he wanted to admit it or not, the hard ball that had formed under his ribs was jealousy. Pure and simple. He was going to have to get over that. Even if she didn’t marry James Bauer, she would get married someday, and it wouldn’t be to him. “You don’t mind that your father chose your husband?”
“I’ve always known that would happen. Father told us that when we were little.”
“And you agree with it?” He shook his head. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
“Maybe you don’t know me.”
“Maybe I don’t.” Tension was building in his neck and he knew why. She was so meek and timid right now, nothing like the Betty he’d gotten to know during their nights together. It was as if she was two completely different people. That at the mention of her father, the vibrant, fun-loving Betty was instantly overshadowed by a shy, timorous girl who was afraid to even speak loud enough to be heard. He hated the idea that someone had that much power over her. It reminded him of the orphanage, how children had been forced into submission until they were like a regiment of well-trained soldiers who never questioned the orders they were given.
“You’ll have to give me directions once we get to the abandoned house,” he said.
“All right,” she said. “You’ll just keep driving on that road for a couple of miles, then there is another road we’ll take. People live in two of the houses James built, but the third one is still empty, I believe.”
“From what Blake said, I assumed the houses were sold before they were built.”
She shrugged.
“Your father doesn’t talk much about his business?”
She shook her head.
“Not even to your mother?”
“I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell us if he did because...” Once again, she turned to stare out the window.
“Because why?”
“Because we are to be seen and not heard, nor are we allowed to listen. That’s why we are able to sneak out at night. We are sent to bed by seven thirty each night and not allowed back downstairs until breakfast.”
It sounded as if her life was stricter than his had been at the orphanage and school. “What about weekends?”
“What about them?”
“Isn’t your father home then?”
“No. Other than church Sunday mornings, he goes to work as always.”
Henry’s instincts earlier had been right. There was something very strange about William Dryer and his activities. He didn’t believe William was involved with Elkin, but for Betty’s sake, he was going to find out more.
Following her directions, he drove past three houses built by Bauer. From the outside, there was nothing shoddy looking about them. They were big, elaborate, from the looks of them, and sure to cost a pretty penny. Two were occupied and one was vacant, just as she’d thought.
He didn’t stop to investigate further; he’d do that alone, and continued to follow the road. She didn’t question him, so he continued to drive as the road made a large loop and eventually came out on the paved highway that eventually ran along the coastline.
“Wow,” she whispered as the Pacific came into view. “I haven’t seen the ocean in years.”
Surprised, he asked, “Why? You live within miles of it.”
She didn’t answer, and he knew why. She hadn’t lied about her father and his strict rules. Flustered at himself and all that she was deprived of, he pulled off the highway on the next road that would take them down to the beach.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“To see the ocean.”
Her eyes lit up, even as she shook her head. “I should get home.”
But she didn’t want to. He could tell. “You will. We’ll only stay a few minutes.”
“All right.” She grinned then and pulled off her gloves while he found a place to park.
Still smiling, she held his hand as they climbed down a short, rocky, and weedy hill that led to the sandy beach.
She drew in a deep breath as they stepped into the soft sand. “I can smell the beach at our house some days.”
He laughed. “The smell of dead fish does carry in the air.”
She slapped at his arm.
