check in with the sergeant.”
“Which one is that?”
“The one with the longest line,” a short, tanned man standing near them volunteered. He had a firm grasp on the arm of a sleepy-looking girl about Kelsey’s age. “Hey, Kate. I’m gonna give Les Hamilton hell when I get hold of him. What was he thinking, going off and leaving his kid at home to party? Did you know there wouldn’t be any adults there tonight?”
Kate shook her head. Mary Rose thought back to the conversation as Kelsey and Trace left the house early that evening. Had Kate asked if there would be parents at home? Or had she just assumed? Surely she would be smarter than that…unless she didn’t want to know, didn’t want to face the conflict involved in dealing with all the facts.
She took hold of Kate’s arm. “Let’s go stand in the longest line.”
After thirty minutes of watching parents argue with police and scold adolescents, their turn came to speak with the sergeant. Kate took a deep breath. “I—I’m looking for Kelsey and Trace LaRue.”
The sergeant flipped through papers. “Right. Drunk driving—”
“Driving!”
“Vandalism, consuming alcohol while underage and possession of a counterfeit license.” He glared at Kate. “You got a couple of real delinquents on your hands.”
She gripped her hands together on top of the counter. “What kind of vandalism?”
“Mailboxes. Pulled over half a dozen boxes in the Burning Tree subdivision. Lucky one of the neighbors was awake and called the cops.”
“What are you going to do to them?”
“That’s up to the judge.”
“They’re going to have a trial?”
Glancing up from his papers, the sergeant must have seen how close to the breaking point the woman he was talking to had come. “A hearing,” he said more gently. “In a day or two. All I need right now is for you to sign them out, take them home and keep them there. You are the legal guardian, right?”
“Yes, of course.” She had adopted both Trace and Kelsey soon after her marriage to L.T. Kate put her wavering signature on the lines the sergeant indicated. “They won’t get into any more trouble.”
“Right.” Skepticism weighted the one word. With a nod, he dismissed them, handing the papers off to another officer standing at his back.
In a few minutes the heavy door in the rear of the room swung open. Kelsey stumbled out, dazed and blinking. “Kate? Aunt M?”
Kate took hold of the girl’s shoulders, gazing at her in the unforgiving fluorescent light. “Are you okay?”
Kelsey pushed her hair out of her eyes. “Uh…I guess so…”
“Come on, Kelsey.” Mary Rose took the girl’s limp hand. “We’ll go get the car. You and Trace can meet us in front of the station,” she told Kate, who looked nearly as dazed as her intoxicated daughter did.
Outside, the warm April night was scented with new grass and rain…and a hint of whiskey from Kelsey’s direction. Mary Rose didn’t pause to appreciate the atmosphere. Walking fast, she pulled the girl along behind her as she strode down the sidewalk. She didn’t know about Kate, but she was mad enough to spit.
With the doors shut, she twisted around in the driver’s seat of the Volvo to face her niece in the back. “What the hell are you trying to accomplish? Doesn’t your family have its share of problems already?”
Kelsey drew up her knees and curled into a ball. “I’m gonna be sick.”
“I hope so.” Mary Rose turned to the steering wheel and started the engine. “I hope you’re sick as a dog.”
Trace and Kate walked out of the police station as Mary Rose pulled the Volvo to the curb. Mother and son got into the car without a word. The five-minute drive up The Hill and to the LaRue house passed in total silence.
Once inside, the kids started up the stairs to their rooms. Mary Rose opened her mouth to protest but, thankfully, Kate beat her to it.
“Not so fast. We are going to talk about this. Both of you come into the living room.” Kate’s voice was harder than Mary Rose had ever heard it.
And that steely tone achieved the desired effect. Trace and Kelsey retraced their steps down the stairs, then went to sit side by side on the love seat, facing their stepmother as she stood in front of the fireplace. Mary Rose retreated to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Against her inclinations, she closed the door to the dining room to give them privacy, so the voices—mostly Kate’s, but sometimes the kids’ as well—came to her as wordless mumbles.
More than half an hour passed before footsteps thumped on the staircase once again, announcing that the kids had gone upstairs. A moment later, Kate struggled past the heavy dining-room door and wilted into a chair at the kitchen table.
Mary Rose put a mug of sweet, milky coffee in front of her sister. “Was it very bad?”
“Very.” Kate hid her face in her hands. “I ought to be stern and strong…but they’re so terribly hurt already. How can I punish them when they’re in such pain?”
That question didn’t have an answer. “Did they have reasons? Excuses?”
Straightening her shoulders, Kate dropped her hands to curl her long, slender fingers around the mug. “Something to the effect that Trace’s friends dared him to knock down the mailboxes and Kelsey didn’t think she should let the boys take a car since none of them has a license.”
“And she does?”
“Her learner’s permit.”
“What about the drinking?”
“Kelsey swears that she only had a couple of beers. She didn’t realize how even that would affect her, because she’d never tried it before.”
Damn. “Kate, that’s not true.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I saw her Thursday at the soccer game, Kelsey had been drinking.”
“At school?” Her eyes widened in horror. “How do you know?”
“I could smell whiskey when she hugged me.”
“Whiskey. And you didn’t tell me?”
“I was hoping I was wrong.”
“Oh, dear God.” Kate put down her mug and stared into it blankly. “What am I going to do?”
Mary Rose put a hand on the soft, brown hair. “Katie, honey, I’m not sure. But we’ll figure out something.”
After a couple of minutes, Kate sighed and straightened up. “The reality is that they’re begging for their father to notice what’s going
