Chapter Twenty-Eight Elsie
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Elsie
Elsie wasn’t sure if the cry she heard came from herself or someone else, but no doubt, a shriek was swelling inside her.
Sitting on the hood of the van, she gripped her cell phone and stared at the screen in horror.
The wind freed a shower of pine needles from the tree shading her, raining on her like pinpricks.
One of those seminude images had been posted on social media. Anonymously. She hadn’t been tagged in the image, but Willow had messaged her privately.
It was the same photo she’d been texted with the demand for money, taken in the bathhouse shower, an image from the back. She was smiling over her shoulder. Like she wanted the picture taken, when in fact she’d been totally unaware of the hidden camera.
She understood she’d just been grinning at Willow’s joke after a fun day boating at camp. But to anyone seeing the pic? It looked like she’d posed. More than ever, she was certain Porter was behind this, upping the heat to pry money from her.
Sweat beaded on her forehead.
Even knowing the Snapchat message would disappear when seen didn’t make her feel one bit better. If even one person took a screenshot before the photo timed out and erased . . .
Another shout split the air.
Definitely not from her this time.
Was that her mom? And barking too, but it didn’t sound like Dusty, and the working dog almost never made a sound.
“Elsie, Mom!” Rosalynn’s cries carried on the wind. “I need help.”
“Mom?” Elsie scrambled off the hood of the van and hopped to the ground.
Her mother shouted again, the cry sweeping aside Elsie’s panic over the image on her cell phone. She scanned the rest stop, with no sign of her mom. A handful of tourists wandered back to their cars, glancing toward the far side of the welcome center but keeping their distance.
Losers.
She sprinted toward the sound, tucking her cell phone into her back pocket. She passed the brick center just as Grammie rushed out from the restroom.
“Elsie?” Lillian gasped. “Where’s your mother? Did I hear her call out?”
“Yes. This way. Something’s wrong,” Elsie hollered over her shoulder, her feet pounding the ground as hard as her heart hitting her ribs.
She rounded the corner, behind the welcome center, and blinked in shock at the chaos. Her mom lay on the ground by a bench. Dusty was draped over her, and a big Great Dane–looking dog raced in circles around them.
A kid was clapping his hands. “Juniper, no. Juniper, come, girl, come . . .”
The child’s rambling shouts only amped the huge canine into running faster, a frenetic ball of leggy energy.
Her paws tore up the earth, sending clods of dirt every which way.
Rosalynn had her arms wrapped around Dusty until Elsie couldn’t tell for sure who was protecting who.
The thought of either of them being injured .
. . Elsie ran faster, hopping over a bush and sidestepping a trash can.
She didn’t bother wasting time on a plan. Lunging between her mother and Juniper, she grabbed the loose dog by the animal’s rhinestone collar. And wow, the big ole beast was strong. Hopefully she wasn’t a biter. Elsie shuddered.
“Enough. Sit.” She planted her feet firmer and prayed the dog would obey.
Thankfully, Juniper froze, then dropped to her bottom. Although her massive size nearly pulled Elsie over.
The gap-toothed boy scooped up Juniper’s loose leash. “Thanks, lady. Sorry. Come on, Juniper.”
Elsie kept her hold on the dog, not trusting this child could control such a massive animal. “Where are your parents?”
His eyes went wide. “Please don’t tell my mom. Give me the leash. I’ll hold on tight this time. I promise.”
Elsie understood all too well the fear of parental disapproval. Especially right now. Her cell phone all but burned through her back pocket.
But she couldn’t just hand over—
“Juniper,” a squeaky, panicked voice called out just before a harried-looking woman sprinted into sight, baggy T-shirt declaring I Love My Great Dane.
Apparently, she didn’t love her Great Dane enough to keep the dog safe.
The boy’s eyes went wider and he whispered, “Please, please don’t tell my mother it’s my fault.”
Grammie jogged up behind her, breathlessly. Lillian’s jaw jutted with an expression not too different from when she walker-keyed the car at the hotel.
The mom stopped short, her eyes going wide as she took in Rosalynn and Dusty on the ground, then the wheelchair beside the bench. “Are you okay?”
Rosalynn sat up, an arm still wrapped around Dusty. “We’re fine.”
“Thank heaven.” The mother took the leash from Elsie’s hand and glared at the boy. “Tell these ladies you’re sorry.”
“But Mom, I was just walking Juniper like you—”
“Say. You’re. Sorry.”
He scuffed his toe along the grass, kicking a dirt clod. “Sorry.”
Seemed to Elsie the lady was the one who should be apologizing for not having control of her kid and dog. And maybe all those people in the parking lot who’d ignored calls for help should apologize for being pathetic humans.
The woman rolled her eyes. “Are y’all sure you’re okay? Looks like the dogs didn’t tussle too hard.”
Grammie took a step forward. She had on her lawyer eyes. The ones that had made Elsie confess at four years old when Grammie asked who ate all the cookies she was saving for after dinner.
Even though the look wasn’t directed at Elsie now, she had to look away in fear she would blurt out her current secrets—so much worse than stolen peanut butter crinkles.
Rosalynn rested a hand on her mom’s arm. “Not now. I don’t want this to explode into something that freaks out Dusty.”
Dusty was in full-on Velcro-dog mode, pressing against Rosalynn. Her mom was always extra careful about Dusty not being pushed too far for fear the stress might cause him to retire early.
The mother tugged her son by one arm, clutching the leash in her other hand. “Well, we’ll get Juniper out of your way.”
Once the leggy Great Dane ambled off, Dusty drew in a shuddering sigh.
Same, pup. Same.
Elsie crouched by her mother, trying to find a safe place for her hands to land but needing to check for injuries. “Are you hurt? Don’t move too fast.”
“I’m fine. I’ll have a couple of bruises—including one to my dignity—but I’m not injured. I’ve taken worse tumbles getting out of bed in the morning.”
Her mother was trying to minimize, like always in her Super Mom fashion. Somehow, though, Elsie knew Rosalynn wouldn’t be minimizing the sketchy photos and blackmail.
Lillian knelt beside them, her hands skimming Rosalynn’s legs and feet. “Where did you hit the ground?”
Rosalynn batted away Grammie’s hands. “I said I’m fine. I broke the fall with my arms.” She held up her scraped palms as proof, the skin all red and angry.
Elsie winced. “We need to wash those off. Let me help you back into your chair.”
Shaking her head, Lillian pulled out her phone. “No, I think we should just call for an ambulance.”
“Mother,” Rosalynn hissed. “I’m drawing the line. I don’t need a second visit from EMS in less than twenty-four hours. Help me get back into the chair. No more delays when we are so close to the end of the trip.”
Elsie rocked back on her heels and sat on the grass. “I don’t know, Mom. Maybe Grammie is right.”
“I’m more concerned for my dog.” Rosalynn picked a leaf from his fur. “If there’s a problem, I’ll have a doctor look me over once we arrive. Fair enough?”
Lillian crossed her arms. “Okay, for now. Although I reserve the right to change my mind.”
Elsie sagged in relief the matter had been settled, and that Lillian was there to make the call for help if needed. Then close on the heels of that thought, another iced through her.
What if something like this happened and Rosalynn was alone? Sure, her mom had a red emergency button in her house that was a direct line to 9-1-1, and Dusty knew how to smack it with his paws. But right now, that didn’t feel like reassurance enough.
Guilt swamped her for wanting to emancipate, to run away. She should have never put herself in the position where she had to leave. It sucked having control over her future stolen.
“Mom,” Elsie declared. “If you want to go, then that’s what we’re doing.”
Standing, Elsie slid her arms around her mother’s torso and lifted.
Grammie clasped one of Rosalynn’s hands to add balance.
The three of them worked together, hefting and shifting until her mother collapsed back into her seat.
Dusty hurried to her side, resting his head on her knee and plastering himself to her thigh again.
Elsie sagged onto the bench, her cell phone pressing into her.
At least her mom was okay. One thing to be thankful for in the middle of the doom threatening to swallow her whole.
Adrenaline seeped from her as her mind flooded with images of how much worse the loose-dog incident could have turned out.
Posted signs clearly instructed no dogs were allowed off leash around the welcome center. That kid couldn’t handle such a large dog and yet the mom had sent him off. Risking his safety too. No one had stepped up to help.
She thought of Grammie’s anger at the hotel when the woman boxed in their van, and finally, Elsie really got it. She understood her grandmother’s frustration with people who thought the rules didn’t apply to them. Folks who didn’t consider how those restrictions—hard won—were important to others.
Grammie had spent her life fighting for others, holding people accountable for bad acts. She didn’t stand by in a parking lot, looking the other way.
She was brave. She made her voice heard.
Right now, Elsie didn’t have a clue how she would find the courage to speak up about the threat on the other side of her cell phone, but she needed to find an opening to tell her mother and Grammie. Soon.
Because time was running out before someone tipped them off.