U Is for Undertow Page 81
“I don’t know how anyone gets through something like that.”
“You do because you do. Because you have no choice. I had Rain to consider. I set my own pain aside and focused on helping her.”
“Tell me the time frame. I heard about Michael’s accusations against his parents.”
“The lawsuit was settled in 1981. By then, Kip and Annabelle were crippled by the strain. Between the public outcry and the drain on their emotions, they were whipped. Let’s not even talk about the thousands of dollars in legal fees it cost them. Annabelle died in the summer of 1983, and Kip six months later.”
“They must have been a mess after what he put them through.”
“You have no idea. The four of us talked about it for hours on end and there was just no way out. Suing his therapist was their only hope of putting a stop to it. Even when it was over, the bad feelings remained. Some people were convinced he was actually abused, even after Marty Osborne as good as admitted the whole of it was her doing. The general attitude seemed to be that if Kip and Annabelle were accused, there must be a grain of truth to it. Both drank. I’m not saying they were alcoholics, but they hit the bottle pretty hard at times. Patrick and I were in much the same boat. We called it ‘social’ drinking, but we were social every chance we got. When this came up, they couldn’t suck down the martinis fast enough, and that set tongues to wagging on top of everything else. At the club, feelings ran so high, the four of us resigned. That’s how bad it got. I still run into people who refuse to make eye contact. They know Patrick and I were loyal, which apparently put us on the same dung heap as the Suttons, like we were somehow guilty by association.”
“Diana told me Michael recanted.”
She shook her head in disgust. “That was the last straw. I wanted to kill the little shit. Patrick and I were incensed, absolutely livid. Not that it made a whit of difference. Kip and Annabelle were both gone by then and the damage was done.”
“Diana says her mother drowned.”
Deborah gestured toward the surf. “She was swimming a few hundred yards offshore when she got caught in the undertow. She must have used up all her strength trying to fight her way back. In the end, the ocean took her.” She was quiet for a moment and all I could hear was the chunking of sand under our feet as we walked. “I wouldn’t mind a touch of justice for Michael, some small sign he was getting back his own. I look at the lives he destroyed and it seems unfair that he gets to enjoy the same sun that shines down on the rest of us. That may sound monstrous, but I don’t care.”
“I can understand how you feel,” I said. “It’s not about vengeance. It’s about balance, the sense that good and evil are in a state of equilibrium. At the same time, I have to admit I like the kid. I think he should be held accountable for the harm he did, but he’s paid a price like everyone else.”
“Not enough of one.” She broke off, impatiently. “Let’s change the subject. It doesn’t do any good to dwell on it,” she said, and then glanced over at me. “You wanted information about Rain’s abduction. How much did Avis tell you?”
“Nothing. She said the story was yours, which is why she set this up. I do know you had a son and you ended up raising his child.”
“Rain is the good part. She’s the love of my life. At the time we took custody, I was forty-four years old, way past the point of parenting a newborn, but there she was. The birth itself was hard and Shelly ended up having a C-section. She had absolutely no interest in mothering the child. Rain was a fussy baby and didn’t nurse well. I suspect Shelly was suffering from postpartum depression. I wasn’t entirely unsympathetic, but I was seriously concerned she’d harm the child. My worries were pointless, as it turned out. She and Greg and the boy vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving Rain behind.”
“How old was she?”
“Five days. After the initial shock wore off, we realized how totally blessed we were. I still laugh when I think about all those PTA meetings. Which I ran, by the way. All the other moms were in their twenties. I’d been chairing committees for years and I couldn’t help myself. They’d start floundering and I’d take over. That was another reason we were so close to Kip and Annabelle. They had four kids underfoot and suddenly we had one, too.” She smiled. “Sorry to run on like this.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “How long was it before you saw Greg and Shelly again?”
“Four years. June of 1967. I thought they were gone for good. I should have known better.”