His steps faltered; he drew his eyebrows together. 'When you asked about her, I was afraid this might happen.'
'Who?'
'That Gwen Lancaster.'
'You know her?'
'Of her,' he corrected, expression tight. 'She's been going around Cypress Springs spreading lies. Starting rumors.'
'So the group never existed?'
'They existed, all right. Just not the way she's portraying them. To hear her talk, they were a bunch of hatemongers and murderers.'
He let out a heavy-sounding breath. 'They called themselves Seven Citizens Who Care. The group organized in an attempt to stem the tide of social ills that had beset our town. Their feeling was, stop crime before it happened. They began a drug and alcohol awareness program in the schools. They organized a chapter of Planned Parenthood. They arranged counseling for families in crisis. They began a campaign to get families back to church.'
Avery remembered suddenly being required to take sex education in the tenth grade, remembered the addition of films about the dangers of alcohol and drugs in health class-subjects that had never been broached in school before.
'They weren't high-profile. They weren't in it for acclaim or notoriety. They were simply citizens willing to take a stand for this community. Lilah belonged. So did Pastor Dastugue.'
'I feel like an idiot. I didn't know.'
'I wish they had been more public. Then people like Gwen Lancaster couldn't spread their lies.'
'What's going on here, Dad? You trying to steal my girl?'
Buddy's expression cleared. 'I think your mother would have something to say about that, son.'
A commotion by the bandstand interrupted their banter. Buddy glanced in that direction, then swore softly. 'Excuse me, kids. Duty calls.'
They watched him go. The band struck up another tune. 'Dance with me?'
Matt held out his arms; Avery stepped into them. Her talk with Buddy had changed everything, she realized. She felt as if a thousand-pound weight had been lifted from her shoulders. How could she have trusted a stranger over people she knew and loved?
'You and Dad have a nice talk?' he asked.
'Really nice.'
'He loves you a lot, you know. As much as me or Cherry.'
But not Hunter. Never Hunter.
'You're thinking of my brother, aren't you?'
How did he so easily read her mind? Did he know her so well, still, after all these years?
'Yes,' she said.
'He did this to himself, Avery. He removed himself from our lives.'
'But why? I guess I just…don't understand. We were all so close.'
'I wish to God I knew what went wrong. You can't imagine-' He looked away, then back, expression in his eyes anguished. 'I've never been closer to anybody than I was my brother. He's my other half, Avery. When we were kids…I couldn't have imagined this. That we wouldn't be best friends anymore. That we wouldn't even speak to one another, for God's sake.'
'Have you tried to reconcile?'
He laughed, the sound tight. 'Are you kidding? We all have. Tried and been rebuffed. Time and again.'
'Hunter said something about Dad and Buddy's relationship. That they didn't even speak anymore. That it had become so bad between them, Dad would cross the street to avoid their coming face-to-face. Is that true?'
'Son of a bitch,' he muttered, expression tightening. 'That prick.'
'So, it's not true?'
'Only partially. In the last months before his suicide. I believe he avoided Dad because he knew Dad would realize how bad off he was and stop him.'
'Oh,' she murmured, feeling small and gullible. 'Did he say anything else about us?'
Nothing she was about to repeat. She shook her head. 'He seems so serious now. As if he's facing-'
'I don't want to talk about my brother, Avery. Not tonight.' Matt drew her closer against him. 'Did today bring back memories?'
She tilted her face up to his. 'Good ones.'
'Remember the Spring Fest we sneaked off to make out? We were all of thirteen.'
'Your dad caught on. Followed us. Made you apologize to me.'
'Lectured me about how to treat a lady.'
She laughed. 'Little did he know, it was the lady's idea.'
And three years later, sneaking off to Tiller's Pond had also been her idea. And there, under the star-sprinkled sky they had consummated their passion for one another.
'We were so bad,' she said.
'We were in love.' His gaze held hers. Her mouth went dry. 'I couldn't get enough of you, Avery. Of touching you. Of being with you.'
The blood rushed to her head. He dropped a hand to the small of her back, began moving his fingers in slow, rhythmic circles.
She melted against him. Memories swamped her. Of past moments like this. Of hot, urgent hands and mouths. Of the dizzying rush of their newfound sexuality.
He brought his mouth to her ear. 'Seeing you with Hunter yesterday like that, it made me crazy. I couldn't look at you. I was afraid of what I might do. To you. To him.'
What would it be like to make love with Matt? Avery wondered. Without the potency of young love, without the heady rush of their burgeoning sexuality? They weren't kids anymore but consenting adults. They'd had other lovers, they had hurt and been hurt. They wouldn't have to hurry, wouldn't need to worry about getting home before curfew or being caught. She knew how to please a man; he to please a woman.
With Matt she could have what she had lost. She could be the girl who was otherwise gone forever.
Cherry's warning to stay away from her brother unless she was serious ran through her mind, as did the assertion that Matt had never loved anyone but her.
Until she knew what she wanted, they couldn't go there. Much as she longed to.
'What are you thinking?' he asked.
'About the past. The way it was between us.'
'I'm glad.' He dropped his face close to hers. 'Because it was good. And it could be good again. Very good.'
'I wish I could be as certain. So much has changed, Matt. We've cha-'
He brought a finger to her lips. 'I'm a patient man. I've waited this long, I can wait a little longer.'
CHAPTER 24
Gwen stared at the front page of the Gazette's Wednesday edition, her morning cup of coffee cooling on the bedstand. Not the headline story about Peggy Trumble's winning entry in the annual Spring Fest bake-off, but the one at the bottom, tucked into a corner, almost an afterthought: Car Hauled Out of Tiller's Pond.
She skimmed the piece for the third time. The story-hardly more than a blurb-went on to report how Avery Chauvin and Hunter Stevens had discovered a car abandoned in Tiller's Pond. The vehicle had been hauled out and found to be empty.
It was the last line of the piece that shook her to the core.
The owner of the vehicle, New Orleanian Luke McDougal, who had been heading from nearby Clinton to St. Francisville, had been reported missing by his girlfriend three weeks before. Anyone with information should call
