Chapter 20 The Video
THE VIDEO
CARTER
It’s been three days since I’ve last seen or talked to Becky.
I’m trying not to dwell on the negative and focus on everything that went better than I could have ever expected.
This weekend was one of the longest, best, worst weekends of my life.
Saturday, Becky and I sat around her house and made a game plan to get Taylor out of our lives, or at least off our backs.
There are a lot of steps, but I know my part.
What she doesn’t know is I’ve already started.
Saturday afternoon I made her dinner, or I suppose it was a late lunch.
I’ve been practicing my cooking skills since the night everything fell apart.
One of the things I recognized when I was alone in my parents’ home these past few weeks, was how much responsibility she took on in our home, our shared life.
So, yeah. I practiced. Neither of us got food poisoning.
I count it as a win. Once we cleaned up after eating, we finalized a few key pieces, and I went back to my parents’ place.
Alone. Again. She didn’t reach out on Sunday, or on Monday, and I didn’t push it.
My mind comes back to the present when Benson Boone’s new, way overplayed, hit begins crooning from the radio.
I consider switching stations, but it’s one of the only stations in our area that doesn’t play country or Christian music, and I’m not really in the mood for either of those.
So, I keep it on. I’m on the main road, driving to work, and start tapping and bobbing my head to the music.
“You know, it’s kind of hard to hear over the sound of my truck.
” I say to nobody in particular as I turn it up.
I must black out, because the next thing I know, the people in the car next to me are staring because I’m sitting at our single stoplight in town, belting out the chorus of the song, no longer casually tapping my hands, but beating them against the steering wheel.
I don’t even stop when I notice them. Fuck it.
I’m feeling this song right now. I mentally add it to one of my playlists.
The song ends as I’m pulling up to Billy’s Auto, and Billy himself is waiting for me in the front.
The catharsis I felt melts away at the look on his face.
He’s a gloomy fuck most of the time since everything happened with his ex-ish wife.
I don’t know if they’re even divorced to be honest. His face right now looks more menacing and dangerous than usual.
I take my time parking my truck and head his way.
I check my pockets for my phone and wallet four different times.
He’s my friend, but he is still terrifying.
“You need to come with me.” He says with no preamble before turning and walking straight into the office.
“Okay…” I follow him in, and he shuts the door behind me. Then he closes the blinds and turns the lock.
What the fuck. I’m going to die.
He walks past where I’m standing awkwardly in the middle of the dark office.
The light from the monitor, which he turns to face me, is the only light illuminating the space.
On it is a recorded video of Paul working.
Well working at the desk. He’s probably just playing solitaire.
I look up and see the blinking light of the office security camera in the corner. This is fucking weird.
I turn my attention back to the video when a knocking sounds, and Paul calls out, “come in.” When I see Taylor walk in, I double check the date on the screen. This weekend.
“What the fuck?” I breathe out.
“Shut up, watch, and listen. But you might want to close your eyes for part of it.” Billy bites out. So I shut up, watch, and listen.
“Hey, baby.” Taylor purrs at Paul. What the fuck? I mouth it this time, eyes locked on the monitor.
“Tay tay baby, come here.” Paul says back to her, leaning back in the office chair.
I watch as she flips the lock and pulls the blinds before making her way to Paul and sitting in his lap.
One quick look confirms, they’re sharing the same one I’m sitting in now.
I stand up and shove the chair away from me, but keep my eyes on the monitor.
“Baby, I need you to do something else for me.” She whines while she runs her fingers through his hair.
“What else could I do? They’re already split, you’re getting her how you can in your little teaching job, you got the damn flower thing going—”
“They stopped delivering for me.” She interrupts him. “I called and some lady made a stupid fake fucking static sound and hung up on me. These small-town hick shops are useless anyway.”
I need to let Martha know she’s free to hex away.
Paul sighs and moves his hands around her body. Her little jump makes his hand’s destination clear as he asks his next question. “What’s in it for me this time sweetheart? Besides putting the little fat bitch in her place?”
This mother fucker needs to be hit once, or twenty times, in the fucking face. Taylor leans up in an uncomfortably familiar way and whispers in his ear. Based on the disgusting look on his face, Paul is happy with her response.
He nods and quickly grabs the phone. “What do you need me to say?”
Taylor slips off his lap and falls to her knees in front of him. “You’re just calling the county’s School System Central Office as a concerned uncle. Your sweet nephew has been complaining about his teacher’s inappropriate behavior.” Taylor says as she undoes his belt.
I look away as she reaches into his pants and meet Billy’s dark eyes.
“Joey is one of Becky’s students, right?”
“Yep.”
“She’s not answering her phone.” I mutter to myself as I pace the tainted office.
Billy sits in the only remaining office chair. I threw the other one out of the office once the video finished. Billy said that nothing else was said, so I didn’t have to see Paul finish. Disgusting piece of shit.
“Why does he hate her so much?” I keep on muttering. I’ve always known Paul was scum, but this is beyond my imaginings of the depths of depravity he’d go to for some petty dislike. This is full on loathing.
Billy clears his throat from the other side of the desk, but when I turn back to him, he’s staring at his cellphone. Wait. I stop walking. “Call Becky! Maybe she’ll answer your call. Mine went straight to voicemail.” Billy nods his head in acknowledgement.
I expect him to ask me for her number, so when I hear him say, “It went straight to voicemail,” I narrow my eyes at him.
Before I get a chance to call him on it, he rolls his eyes at me. “You gave me her number ages ago when your dumbass left your phone at home. I ain’t got any designs on your woman, Carter. Chill the fuck out.” I let out a dry chuckle a little after he finishes what, for him, equals a speech.
“Yeah, I know. Shit man, I’m sorry. I’m a mess.” He only grunts in response. I start pacing again. His phone rings, breaking the silence of the dark room.
“It’s Joey’s school. Just a second.” Billy starts to get up, but I practically leap on him.
“What are you doing? Answer it on speaker!” I try to grab his phone, but he holds it up and out of the way. I lean over him, continuing to reach for it. “Dude, stop. What if it’s Becky or something!”
“Get off me you oversized toddler!” Billy snaps. One hand holds me back by my face while the other is holding the fucking lifeline to Becky out of my reach.
“Carter!” He shouts.
“What,” I snap back, voice muffled by his stupid giant paw.
“Let me answer the fucking phone.”
“Oh.” I back off immediately, and he answers the phone on speaker. Good boy. He cuts me a look right when I have that thought, and I nearly piss myself thinking I said it out loud. But then he looks down at the phone with a raised brow.
I try to ask “what” with my eyes, but it’s an obvious fail when his expression does not change. When I say nothing, he speaks up. “Could you repeat that please, Ms. Farris?”
A voice responds from his phone. “Of course, Billy. And honey, just call me Jill. I just know your boy is one of Ms. Duchamp’s students.
I want you to know that she was just sent home on administrative leave because of an accusation of inappropriate behavior.
” Goddammit. I start to say something when Billy slaps his hand over my mouth, again.
“I just wanted to know if that sounds like something your son would agree with or not?”
Hand still covering my mouth, Billy responds “Nope, not Joey, ma’am. She’s his favorite teacher.” He stops to let his words sink in. Then he asks the question I was needing the answer to. “She’s not in trouble now, is she Jill? I know that would really disappoint my boy.”
I nearly lick the fucker’s hand to get it off me, but he must sense the desperation I feel because he has the instinct to remove it first. Now free, I still remain silent.
A faint clicking comes from the other end of the line before she answers.
“Yes. She was just sent out of the school. My niece has it out for her. Ms. Duchamp is crude and annoying, but she works hard. These kids need teachers like her.”
Her words register, shocking me with multiple revelations at once.
First, I’m shocked if this is the Jill I’m thinking it is, with the peacock, then she’s someone Becky has always complained hated her.
She said witch a lot when describing her.
And peacock, of course. Secondly, she’s calling Billy to defend her in the most condescending way a person could.
Lastly, she just threw her family under the bus without a second of hesitation.
I vaguely remember Jill babysitting me. I think she did it one time. Supposedly, I was too strong willed for all the wrong reasons and couldn’t keep quiet long enough for a person to think. I’d had sitters say worse, so no hard feelings on my part.
“You need to both go to the board meeting on Thursday this week. Push the issue. Tell them what you told me. I have to go. I’ll be making some more phone calls. Goodbye, Billy goat.”
I start cracking up the minute she hangs up, and once I see that Big Boy Billy goat is actually blushing, I completely lose myself to laughter.
He swings at me halfhearted and I dodge out of the way, but my clumsy ass hits the floor.
The moment I’ve gotten myself up to my knees to stand back up, the door to the office flies open to reveal Trevor standing there.
“So this is where—what the fuck are you two doing in here?”
I stop moving to take in the entire situation. One chair, door closed, blinds down, Billy in the chair, and me on my knees. Oh.
“I feel like I’ve been saying this too much lately, but it’s really not what it looks like.”
Billy snorts in response. He snorts. He really doesn’t give a shit if someone makes assumptions. Good for him, honestly. I realize I’m still on my knees when Trevor starts laughing, so I hop up.
“We need to make some more phone calls?” He asks, still grinning.
“Uh, yeah, the print out is over there.” I gesture vaguely towards the desk.
“We need to call all of her student’s parents from the last three years, including finishing up those she has this year.
We already have the majority of them covered.
Just get the ones that aren’t highlighted.
” I give him instructions now that I’m back up and pacing again.
He looks at the single seat in the room and heads back out to the garage to get the chair and bring it in. I don’t say a word. Neither does Billy.
Once Trevor is situated, we let him know about the video, and he opts out of seeing it, thankfully.
“You know that your brother could get into a bit of trouble if we go forward with this.” Trevor is cautious as he says it. He’s doing that mediator’s voice he does so well.
“I know,” is Billy’s simple response. “Start making your phone calls.” He grumps at me, then heads into the garage.
Yes, we are still working on cars, but the last few days, we’ve been contacting the parents of Becky’s students and current and prior coworkers in a little side-project of mine.
I started the day after my conversation with Vicky last week, and Billy picked up my slack in the shop.
Today, I’ve already contacted many surprised and happy to help people, and Trevor did some sleuthing and found Taylor’s Dad’s company.
He apparently runs a law firm, seems to make bank, and her mom is not in the picture.
He also found Taylor’s socials are public, so he’s been checking those for anything helpful.
Our goal has been to build up a case protecting Becky’s job and reputation at the school.
Unfortunately, this little shit and shitbird beat us to the first punch.
Trevor pipes up from his spot lounging back on the seat swiping through his phone.
“Looking through these thirst traps of a barely legal adult is making me feel a little—” He stops midsentence and stares up at the open door.
His eyes are wide and…I can’t read the emotion there.
I whip my head around to see Paige in the doorway, looking absolutely murderous.
The timing couldn’t have been worse if he’d planned it.
“Sick.” He finishes lamely, keeping eye contact with his furious wife.
Fire blazing in her dark brown eyes, she turns the heat on me.
“Becky is down at Joe’s. She’s waiting for Vicky and Sonya to get off work so they can all work together to figure out a solution for her job, and I know y'all are doing the same thing. Unless, of course, you got sidetracked.” She says this last part to me, but side eyes daggers at Trevor.
The guy cannot get a break.
“Paige, sweetheart, I—”
“Save it, Trevor.”
Billy, who followed Paige to the office, and I give each other a look, but then her spittin’ mad eyes hit mine again and I freeze out of self-preservation. This is a terrifying version of the soft, gentle woman I know.
“We are working at it. Trevor is—” I start.
“I heard plenty about what Trevor has been doing. This is about Becky. Do y’all wanna go to Joe’s and all work together or what?”
I check the clock. School’s out soon enough, if it isn’t already, and I need to get eyes on Becky. “Yeah, I’ll be there. Billy or the other guys can cover the shop. Have you been able to get a hold of her?”
“Yes.” Okay.
“I’ll just leave Patrick in charge and join you. Business is slow today anyway.” Billy, the workaholic recluse says.
Once we all agree to a plan to meet up, we lock up the shop and head down to Joe’s. Billy rides with me, and Paige and Trevor both drive separately.