The small house was still and silent as a tomb. Billie’s pain and guilt were palpable, her words so soft, both Lorna and T.J. had to lean forward to hear her.
“Hasn’t a night passed since that I haven’t wondered.” Billie’s gaze shifted and she stared out the window to her right. “Even now…”
“Where were you when Jason got home that night?” T.J. tried to steer the conversation back on topic.
“I was still there, out on the back steps. I heard the car pull up and I heard the door slam and I waited to see if he was going to come out, but he didn’t, so I went on into the kitchen.”
“Talk to me about that,” T.J. said. “About what happened when you went into the kitchen.”
“Well, it’s like I told Walker. I went inside and there he was, stumbling drunk. Pissed me off so bad, I could hardly see. I hadn’t had a drop since my girl disappeared, and there was my boy, drunk as a skunk at three in the morning. He’s there, looking for something to eat, and we have words. He’s fourteen years old and he’s shit-faced in my kitchen.”
“What did you say?” T.J. asked.
“What do you think I said?” Billie raised an eyebrow. “So he starts yelling at me, about the pot callin’ the kettle black. We stood around doing a lot of shouting, I remember that. He’s yelling at me, about me teaching him how to be a drunk, and I’m yelling at him to look at my life and learn from it. That I wanted better for him, that I may not have given him much in the past, but I was trying to give him something right then and there. Drinking like that ain’t no kind of life. I ruined myself and I ruined my children, but it could end with me, if he did better than what I had done. And then it just stopped.”
Her voice was thin, almost wistful, like a girl’s.
“The yelling just stopped. And I told him how sorry I was for the way things had been, for all I’d done to him and to Mellie.” Her eyes filled. “And he said, ‘That’s easy to say, now that she’s gone.’ ”
Billie wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Well, that was like a slap in the face, but one I deserved-I did-and I told him that. I deserved to have him hate me and I wouldn’t have blamed him one damned bit if he did.”
“And then what?” Lorna asked.
“And then my big, strapping, drunk fourteen-year-old man-child put his head on my shoulder and he started to cry.” She nodded her head. “Just like that. Jason started to cry. Hadn’t cried since he was maybe three, four years old. And I put my arms around him and I rocked him, just like I did when he was a baby. At least, I rocked him best I could, him being so much taller than me and all. But it was okay, he was okay after that. And I thought, ‘Maybe it’s not too late, for me to be more of a mother, him to be more of a son.’ ”
“Why did he leave, Billie?”
“Sir, I have asked myself that question a hundred times, I surely have.” She turned to T.J. “One second, he was all peaceful and resting his head right here,” she patted her left shoulder, “and the next thing I knew, he was cursing and running out the back door.”
“What did he say?” a puzzled Lorna asked.
“He said, ‘You son of a bitch,’ and went right on out the back door like he was being chased. I looked out the window, but I couldn’t see nobody, not even him. I don’t know why he started cursing at me after he’d been so calm, or why he ran out like that.”
“Where was the window in relation to where he was standing?” Lorna asked.
Billie thought for a moment, then said, “It was to my left.”
“Could you see out the window, Billie?” T.J. resumed the questioning.
“I couldn’t, no, I wasn’t facing it.” She thought for a moment, then said, “But he probably could have. His head was on my left shoulder, looking away from me.” She focused on them and said, “He probably could have seen out the window, but if he did, he wasn’t saying what he saw.”
“Did you hear anything? Voices, conversation, anything at all?”
She shook her head.
“When Jason didn’t come back in, I went out onto the back steps and called him, but there was no answer. And I didn’t hear nothing out there, nothing but the wind blowing through that field.” She bit her bottom lip. “I figured he’d started to remember how bad I’d been and it pissed him off all over again, and maybe he’d run away.”
“Had you seen anyone around that night? Heard any cars?”
“Just the one that dropped off Jason.”
“Billie, did anyone have it in for Jason?”
Billie’s eyebrows raised. “Mister, just about everyone who knew Jason had it in for him. He had a way, brought out the worst in everyone he met. That boy had a chip on his shoulder, big as the moon.”
“Did he mention anyone in particular?” T.J. continued. “Ever talk to you about anyone he was having problems with?”
“No. He wasn’t the type to tell you much of anything. Kept it all to hisself, mostly.” Her voice dropped slightly. “Guess when you know no one’s listening, you just stop talking.”
“The police report also indicates that the police spoke with your ex-husband, who stated he’d had no contact with you or the children in many years. Is that correct?”
Billie nodded. “Buddy didn’t have nothing to do with us at that point. He had hisself a new wife and a new family.”
“Did you ever seek child support from him?” Lorna asked.
“Not much point in that,” Billie told her. “He didn’t have nothing for me to get. I didn’t see much reason to bother with him. Once a man washes his hands of you, that’s pretty much it.”
“But they were still his kids,” Lorna protested. “He should have helped support them.”
“He wasn’t working for a long time. Never seen anyone get blood from a stone.”
“Any idea where he is now? How we can get in touch with him?”
“What d’you want with him?” Billie’s eyes narrowed.
“Well, the police interviewed him then, I’d like to speak with him now.”
“He didn’t have nothing to say on the subject back then. Chances are, he’d have less to say all these years later.”
“They were his kids,” T.J. reminded her. “A lot of times, when a child disappears, it turns out that the noncustodial parent has taken them.”
“I can guarantee you, right now, that Buddy Eagan did not take Melinda.” Billie’s jaw set. “And we all know where Jason has been, all these years.”
“Still, I’d like to speak with your ex.”
“Well, good luck finding him, then. I don’t know where he is.”