Sutherland by Karen Trailor Thomas

Author:Karen Trailor Thomas [Thomas, Karen Trailor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781634865180
Published: 2017-12-14T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

There was no need for Jennalee to sneak out because her parents were rushing from their room, Gerald half into his bathrobe, which gave Jennalee a view she’d rather not see: plaid pajama bottoms beneath a bare chest scarred down the middle with the red line that marked her father’s heart operation. Why’s it still red? she wondered, but then her mother was taking the lead, flying along without any robe, clad in tasteful pink short-sleeved pajamas and barefoot. By the time the three got outside, police and medical personal had spilled from cars filling the circular courtyard.

Guests were slowly emerging, creeping around the main building’s edges to gawk while Gerald demanded to know what in hell was going on.

“You tell me,” said the police officer who Jennalee noted hunky. “We got a call of an assault in progress.”

“Assault? Good God,” said Gerald. “I know nothing about that. One of the guests must have called, but there’s been no screams, no commotion. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“All quiet then?” The officer cocked his head to take in sounds of the pool party that still persisted at one A.M. “Come on,” he told his deputy, who looked maybe twenty-five to Jennalee, or maybe twenty. Then again, maybe even high school, he was so fresh-faced and skinny. She wondered about his penis, small and pink.

Gerald, Jane, and Jennalee trooped behind the two police officers and a pair of medical personnel who had jumped from their ambulance toting equipment apparently good for any mishap. At the pool, most heads failed to turn with the invasion. A Sutherland man lay face down on an inflatable raft in the deep end of the pool while a couple stopped making out in the shallow end; the man, sighting the invaders, quickly adjusted something below the water. “What the hell?” he called.

“Assault,” said the officer. “We were called about an assault in progress.”

The making out woman, in her forties, began to laugh. “No assault here,” she slurred. “Just the opposite.” She reached down and did something below the water that caused her companion to flinch. He batted away her hand and she laughed all the more.

Others around the pool, several sitting in the grass passing around a bottle, were questioned, but nothing was gained. Whatever assault was taking place was a quiet one. Once all parties at the pool had been taken into account, the officers, medics, and trailing owners, now followed by pool folk in search of new entertainment, took the winding path to Buildings Two and Three where nothing was stirring. It was when the little crowd reached Building Four that a weeping Anita Southerland stumbled into view. “Help me!” she cried. “Help me!”

“Ma’am,” the officer said as she fell into his arms. “Are you the assault victim?”

“Yes, oh yes, I am truly the victim.” Her dark-rooted blond hair was disheveled, as was the whole of her, like she’d been sleeping in her clothes, or maybe assaulted. Her face was flushed bright red, her eyes swollen from crying.

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