Porterville

CHAPTER FOUR

"Where the hell did this come from, Mom?" Britt asked. He was angry that someone had done this that someone had tried to frighten his mother.

Catherine's voice held just a note of uneasiness to it as she said, "I found it on the porch when I went out to get the paper. Someone had placed it on the step." She looked at her son, a worried look on her face and said, "Britt, who would do something like this? It's almost like a threat."

Britt thought he had a pretty good idea, but he didn't share his feelings with her. Instead, he said, "Who knows, Mom. Guess perhaps someone just needs to get a life for themselves. Make no mistake, Mom, this is a threat."

"Perhaps someone thinks you might be getting close to something and they don't want you to."

"Which would be what? So far I haven't come up with a damn thing."

"Maybe they think you will if you dig long enough."

"Mom, what about you? Is there something I might discover if I keep looking?"

"Everyone has something somewhere they wouldn't care to have printed in a book, I'm sure."

"What about us, Mom? What about you? Is there something in our past you wouldn't want made public?"

Catherine forced a smile to her face. "Britt, my life is an open book. You know that."

Britt hated to leave his mother alone. "What do you have planned this evening, Mom? Could you invite a friend over?"

"I have a good book I'm reading."

"Are you sure you will be okay?"

"Britt, stop this nonsense!" She pretended to scold him. "I'm a grown woman. I will be fine."

"I can stay home with you," Britt insisted. "I'm sure Devon would understand. I might invite him over here. If it's all right with you," he added.

"Britt, Devon would be more than welcomed here, but, I assure you, I will be all right. Keep the plans you've made." She stood to her feet. "I don't want to hear another word on the matter." She gave her son a smile. "Just promise to be careful. You're all I have left, and I don't want to lose you."

"You're not going to lose me, Mom."

By the time Devon arrived they both were feeling better. She promised to give him a call on his cell if she needed anything.

Devon came inside and greeted Catherine. Giving her a smile, he said, "How are you, Mrs. Williams?"

She smiled warmly and said, "I'm fine, Devon."

The two of them left a short time later in Devon's car. As he drove down the street, Devon said, "You okay, Britt? You seem preoccupied this evening."

"Do I? Sorry, I don't mean to be."

"Is everything all right?"

"I'm not sure," Britt answered after a moment.

Concern shown in Devon's eyes, and he asked, "Have I done something to upset you?"

Britt was surprised. "Have you done something? Hell, no."

Devon was quiet for a moment, causing the silence to hang over them heavily. Finally he said, "Has my mother or my father done or said anything to you?"

Britt decided to come clean with the man. "Someone left a warning note on my mother's porch this afternoon."

Devon was confused. "A note?" he asked. "What sort of note?"

Britt nodded. "I was warned to leave well enough alone before someone gets hurt. That's what sort of note."

Devon seemed lost in his thoughts. Finally he asked, "Do you think my parents could be responsible for this?"

Britt shook his head. "To be honest with you, Dev, I don't have a clue. It's true, both your parents have been verbal about me writing this book, especially your mother. Whether or not she had anything to do with this, I really can't say. Do you think it's possible?"

"Hell, I wouldn't put anything passed that woman," Devon declared. "The same goes for my father as well. They're quite a pair, as I'm sure you're quite aware of."

"To be honest, Dev, I've had more contact with your mother in the last two days than I have my entire life. I can honestly say I had nothing in common with her during my growing up years here in Porterville."

"You were lucky," Devon told him. "Damn lucky," he added.

"You seem to have very strong feelings about your parents."

"I often wonder just what my life would have been, had my parents been different people."

Even though the words were spoken without feeling or expression of face, they had a big impact on Britt. "Why would you even say something like that?" he asked. "It's not as if any of us has a choice where our parents are concerned. Parenthood just seems to happen."

"Maybe you're right. Who the hell knows?" Devon grinned and changing the subject asked, "Are you hungry?"

Britt nodded. "I am. I've been so busy today I haven't had time for food."

"Good." Devon pointed to the basket sitting behind them. "I have enough food in that thing to feed an army." Then he smiled and said, "And I have a really nice dessert planned for you."

Britt suddenly felt his face grow warm. "Something tells me I'm going to like it, whatever it is."

"Oh, I have no doubt you will like it," he laughed. "In fact, I think you're going to love it."

Devon drove them back to his family cabin, and once inside, he dropped the basket of food and quickly took Britt in his arms. "God, I've missed you," he moaned. "All day long I've ached to feel your arms around me, to feel your heart beating against my chest." He kissed Britt, and the passion between the two men quickly took over their bodies.

Britt returned the kiss and both were instantly aroused. As they held each other tightly, they could feel the hot hardness that was suddenly between them, connecting their bodies as one.

Devon pulled back and said, "All in due time, Babe, all in due time. Right now, I have other plans for you. Come, follow me." He picked up the basket and led the way out to the big country kitchen.

Britt was still amazed how comfortable the room looked, how homey everything was. It was indeed a very nice room, and one he could spend a lot of time in if the opportunity rose.

Devon opened his basket and placed some cartons of food on the table. Then he selected two plates from a corner hutch. In a matter of seconds he announced, "This is it, plain and simple. Let's eat."

They sat across from each other and enjoyed the food. The moments they shared were both humorous and tender, and they quickly became oblivious of the outside world. It was as if they had always known each other.

The evening was wonderful and would remain in their memory forever. After their meal, they worked together putting the big old kitchen back to its rightful state, something Britt thought Elaine McKenzie would appreciate as well as demand them to do.

Devon quietly led Britt up the staircase once more and into the same room they had shared the evening before. He tenderly undressed him and then impatiently attacked his own clothing, removing it quickly. On the bed he took Britt into his arms, and they began an evening of hot and passionate lovemaking. They both reached the realm of satisfaction several times, and by midnight, as they were leaving, had decided perhaps this was leading to something else.

"Are you sure you want me in your life?" Britt asked as they were getting ready to head back int town.

"More than anything," Devon assured him.

"What happens when I'm through working here, and I have to go back?" Not for anything in the world would Britt hurt Devon, yet he was afraid that would happen when the time came for him to return to the city.

"Let's just wait and see how things pan out," Devon said. He brushed his hand gently across Britt's cheek.

The clock in the car read one a.m. just as Devon pulled up in the Williams' drive. He reached over and kissed Britt lightly on the mouth. "Thank you, Britt Williams, for the best evening of my life."

"I should be the one thanking you, Dev. I had a wonderful time as well. Thank you for coming into my life."

They said their goodnights, and Britt hurried up the walk. He unlocked the door with his key and hurried inside the house. He stood at the door and watched as Devon drove down the street. He felt a big wave of tenderness flow through him as he watched the tail lights disappear out of sight. He shut the door, slid the lock in place and headed down the hall to his room."

"Did you have a nice time, Britt?" Catherine Williams was standing in the doorway of her bedroom.

"Mom, why are you still up? I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself."

"I know," she smiled. "I just wanted to wait up and tell you how much I love you."

Britt reached out and gave his mother a hug. "I love you, too, Mom. It's late so scoot to bed." Britt had another thought. He said, "Mom did something else happen after I left?"

She shook her head and said, "Not a thing. It's been as quiet as a mouse. Just me and my book," she added with a smile. "How was your evening?"

"It was very nice," Britt answered.

"You really like Devon, don't you?"

He nodded. "Yes, I do. Very much."

"I've felt for quite some time you and he had a lot in common."

"Have you now?"

"Yes, I have. You just sense these things, I suppose."

"Did you ever sense it about me?"

"I did," she answered. "I think a mother just knows."

Britt was thoughtful a moment. Then he said, "Do you suppose Elaine McKenzie senses things about her son as well?"

"About Devon? I'm sure of it. She would never admit it for the world. She's a proud woman."

"And you're not? Proud, I mean." It was a statement and not a question Britt spoke to his mother.

"I am very proud of my son," Catherine Williams said rather pointedly.

"Not just proud of your son, the author?"

"Of course not just the author! Just what are you getting at, Britt Williams?"

"Not a thing, Mom. I know how much you love me and how proud you are. Not only of my accomplishments in life, but those as a writer as well," he added.

"Thank you very much. I never want you to ask me that again. Am I clear on the matter?"

Britt nodded. "Point taken."

"It's getting late, and I have to be at the center in the morning by ten. Good night, my son."

"Night, Mom." He gave her another hug and walked into his room, closing the door behind him.

Britt stripped his clothes off and climbed between the sheets enjoying the feeling of being naked. He lay there thinking about Porterville. He thought about the McKenzie's, especially Devon McKenzie, and wondered just where it was all going to lead. Until his mother had shown him the note that afternoon, he had begun to wonder if he was hitting one huge dead end. Now, he felt certain something was out there, that indeed someone had something to hide. What it was, he had not a clue, but he felt he was heading in the right direction. He thought of Devon once more and hoped with all his heart that whatever he discovered, it wouldn't cause him any grief or pain. It was on that note that Britt Williams fell into a jumbled mess of dreams.

Britt wasn't the only one to be greeted when he arrived home at the end of his evening. As Devon McKenzie let himself into his own home, he heard his name being called. He walked into the drawing room and discovered his father sitting in one of the big wing back chairs.

John McKenzie pointed to a chair and ask his son to take a seat. "I'd like to have a word with you, Devon."

"What's going on, Dad?" Devon took his seat and said, "It's quite late for you to be up, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is, but I wanted to talk with you, and it seems lately that if I want to discuss anything with you, it has to be late at night."

"What do we need to discuss?" As always, Devon had his guard up when he spoke to his father. He had an idea this wasn't going to be pleasant at all.

"Just why is it you feel you need to spend so much time with Britt Williams? What in the hell can the two of you possibly have in common? He is nothing, Devon. He has nothing going for him. You, on the other hand, have everything, anything you need, all that you could ever want. You have your life before you."

"First of all, you're wrong, Dad. About, Britt, I mean. He has become a very good friend of mine, and I intend to remain his friend. As for my life, yes, there is a life for me out there. What I have, now, is the life you and Mother have planned for me. It's what you want, what you expect. You could care less if it's a life that makes me happy."

"You're wrong, Devon, damn wrong. We do want you happy. That's all we've ever wanted for you."

"No, what you've wanted is for me to make you happy, to be what you want me to be. We both know that."

"We're getting off track here. The entire point of this talk is to discuss Britt Williams. I want you to do whatever it takes to drop him, to leave him alone. I don't want the two of you keeping company any longer."

"Excuse me?" Devon could not believe what he was hearing.

"I said I think it best you forget about Britt Williams. He does not have your best interests at heart."

Devon stood to his feet. "You're right, not everyone has my best interests at heart, and for openers, let's start with you and Mother. My God, I am thirty-five years old, and I certainly think I am old enough to decide with whom I will be friends. I'm not a child."

Devon walked to the door and turned to face his father. "And another thing," he added, "I think I am long over due at finding a place of my own. I want and need my own space. I'm just letting you know, I'll be moving out as soon as I find something."

"There's not a place here in Porterville any longer that is suitable for you to live," his father said. "With the exception of the lake cabin and we need that from time to time ourselves."

"If Porterville is such a bad place to live, why do you stay here?" Devon's voice was cold as he asked his father the question.

"Because Porterville is our town and no one is going to push us out. Besides, the town needs us. Everyone knows that."

"You are one sick bastard. This town doesn't need you. It would be better off if the two of you disappeared off the earth." Devon turned his back to his father once more and hurried from the room. As he left the room, he could hear his father muttering that he would be damned sorry he felt the way he did. Damn sorry.

Devon hurried up to the wing that was all his. As much his as was possible, considering it wreaked of his parent's presence, especially his mother's controlling force. Even though he had his own world in this part of the house, he had never felt it was his, never felt the space was actually his own. He couldn't entertain guests without his mother knowing exactly who his visitors were, or if they stayed the night. Nothing was private in the world Devon McKenzie lived in.

There would be no sleep for him that night he decided as he fixed himself a strong drink and lay back on the couch. He had so much to think about, so many plans to make because by morning, he would know exactly what he was going to do. He knew he had to, because by then, his mother would know of his intentions, and she would be in full force, working her hardest to keep him from carrying them out.

Even though Britt had been late getting to bed the night before, he was up early the next morning, and was walking inside the office of the Beacon by ten o'clock. He greeted Alice Cooper with a smile. He had a favor to ask of her and hoped she would grant him his wish. On the way to the newspaper office, it suddenly occurred to him that perhaps it would be a good idea to visit Alice's mother, Margaret Cooper.

"Alice, I have a favor to ask of you. If you don't think it's a good idea, I won't pursue it."

"What's that?" Alice asked a puzzled look on her face.

"Would you have any objection to me visiting your mother? Something keeps tapping at my brain about her comment concerning the cemetery. I can't explain it, but I think she may know something."

Alice hesitated for the briefest of a second. Finally she said, "Britt, you are more than welcomed to visit Mother anytime you like. Just remember, however, that her mind wonders these days and she gets a little confused."

"I understand, Alice, and like I said, it's completely up to you."

"I have no problem with it. Just drop by the house."

"You think today would be all right?"

"That would be fine, Britt," Alice nodded. "She doesn't rise too early but around one o'clock is a good time for her."

"Thanks, Alice. I really appreciate this. Like I said, can't explain, but I do think she may have some information that might prove to be helpful in my project."

"Just tell her who you are. She remembers your mother very well, and often talks about how much influence she and your father have had in the community over the years."

Britt talked with Alice a while longer about ordinary happenings around town. He had been gone for so many years that most of the things she mentioned we foreign to him. It made him even more aware of that fact that he had been gone from home a long time.

Britt soon headed for the back room where he opened file after file containing the history of Porterville. Lost in his work, he was startled when his cell phone rang just before noon. It was Devon asking about his plans for lunch.

"I can go at any time," Britt answered. "I have an appointment at one o'clock, so guess I have about an hour to kill." He looked at his watch as he spoke.

"If you're free, how about lunch now? I have a few things I'd like to run by you."

"Oh?" He felt something kin to fear creep down his spine. "Is everything okay?" he asked. He couldn't keep the concern from sounding in his voice.

"Everything's fine. I'll tell you over lunch. Where do you want to meet?"

They decided to meet at a small restaurant located down the street from the Beacon office. Britt said he would be there in ten minutes.

He closed his files down on the computer and headed for the front office where he discovered Alice Cooper just leaving for lunch herself.

She gave him a smile, and said, "Britt, I've been thinking about your visit with mother. I think I will go home for lunch today and tell her about your visit this afternoon."

"I appreciate that, Alice," Britt grinned. "If she doesn't remember me, she might meet me at the door with a shotgun."

"Well, perhaps not a shotgun, but she might swing the toilet bowl plunger at you."

They walked out the newspaper office together. Alice got into her car and headed home, and Britt walked along the sidewalk until he came to the restaurant where he was to meet Devon McKenzie.

Inside he discovered Devon hadn't made it yet. He found a booth and waited for him to arrive. He was enjoying a glass of iced tea when Devon slid in the booth beside him.

"Hey," Devon greeted. "Thanks for meeting me."

"My pleasure," Britt assured him. "What's on your mind?"

"Let's order first, and then I'll spill my guts."

Full of curiosity, Britt ordered a BLT, a sandwich he hadn't eaten in years. A bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich sounded good to him. He listened as Devon turned in his own order, waiting to hear what was on the man's mind.

"I'm moving out," Devon declared.

"Moving out?" Britt asked his voice full of surprise.

Devon nodded. "I've had it with my parents. They have controlled me long enough, and I plan on putting a stop to it."

Britt wondered if moving out would actually keep the McKenzie's from controlling their son's life. Aloud he asked, "What brought this on so suddenly?"

"When I got home last night, my father was waiting up for me. He had lots of things to tell me. He said that it seemed these days if he wanted to catch me, it had to be late at night or not at all."

"That would be my fault, huh?" Britt said with a grin.

"Oh, according to my father, everything is your fault."

"My fault? What's my fault?"

"It seems my parents think the two of us are spending way too much time together, and they want it stopped immediately."

"They want what?" Both surprise and disbelief could be heard in Britt's voice.

"My dad seems to think you and I have nothing in common and therefore, we shouldn't spend any time together."

"What the hell brought this on?" Britt asked. "Is it because of my book? The one that doesn't even exist at the moment, I might add?"

Their food arrived at that moment, and Devon waited until their server had left before he spoke. Then he nodded. "I think that has a great deal to do with it."

"You think there's more," Britt pursued.

Devon was silent for a moment before he answered. Finally he said, "Yes, I do. I think that with the resources my parents have, they have discovered that you're gay. And, since they fear their one and only son is gay, well, you know, `birds of a feather flock together', as the saying goes. They want to believe that I'm not that way."

Britt was quiet for a moment, processing everything he had heard. Finally he said, "You think I should back off a bit?"

Devon looked sharply at Britt from across the table. "What the hell are you talking about, Britt?"

"Do you think it would be a good idea for the two of us not to spend so much time together? I don't want any trouble for you, and something tells me if we continue seeing each other, that is exactly what will happen."

"First of all, I will have no one, and I mean no one, not even my parents, telling me who I can and cannot see. I told my father last night that I was thirty-five years old, and by God, I would see whomever I choose, that it was up to me, and not my parents to decide who my friends were."

"I just don't want any trouble for you," Britt said quietly.

"Well, I'm afraid there's going to be trouble. Especially after what I did this morning," Devon added.

"What did you do this morning?"

"I signed a lease on an apartment here in town."

"You did what?" Britt could hardly believe his ears.

"I said I signed a lease on an apartment this morning. I'm moving within the next few days."

"Oh, my God! Does your mother know?"

"Oh, yeah, she knows. I told my father last night I was going to do it, so she met me first thing this morning, something she never does. My mother never rises before nine o'clock unless there is a reason."

"She had a reason to be up early this morning, I take it?"

" I actually think she thought in her mind I would simply listen to her requests, which were actually demands that I remain where I was; that it made more sense than moving into town where absolutely nothing at all was available that was suitable or good enough for her son to live in."

"So this evening should be very interesting for you, I would think."

They had finished their lunch by this time, and the empty plates had been removed. "Yes, you are absolutely correct," Devon agreed. "I think by the time this evening is over, we're all going to feel as if we've been through a big war."

As they were leaving the restaurant a few moments later Devon said, "We've been talking so much about me, that I almost forgot to ask about your one o'clock appointment. Something to do with your book, did you say?"

Britt nodded. "I'm going to see Margaret Cooper. She's lived in Porterville all her life, and I am wondering if she might have some information for me."

Surprise showed on Devon's face. "Margaret Cooper?" he asked. "I have heard her mind is not very clear. What could she possibly know that would help you?"

"I'm not sure. She has given me one tip through her daughter, and I checked it out. I just want to see if she knows anything else."

Devon reached his car. He offered Britt a ride, but Britt declined.

"I'm just a couple of blocks down the street and the exercise will do me good. When I'm home I work out at least three times a week and something tells me that won't be the case while I'm here."

"As if you even have a problem," Devon grinned. "I'll catch up with you later."

"Do that. I'm anxious to hear how it goes with your parents."

"So am I. I'm curious to see if you find out anything from Margaret Cooper."

"I'll give you a call this evening," Britt promised.

The two parted with Devon returning to his office, and Britt walking back to his vehicle. As he stepped from the curb he looked at his watch. It was five minutes to one. He would have just enough time to make the drive to the Cooper residence and meet with Margaret Cooper.

At exactly one o'clock, Britt pulled into the Cooper drive. He shut the car engine off, got out of the car and slowly made his way up the walk to the small cottage where Alice lived with her mother. There were lots of flowers growing along the front of the home on either side of steps leading to the center of the porch. He wondered if it had been Alice or her mother that had done the planting.

He walked up the steps and reached out to push the button. He was about to ring the bell a second time when the door slowly opened, and he was he face to face with a short but stout looking woman. She appeared to be looking him over without saying a word.

Britt gave her what he hoped was a very winning smile. "Mrs. Cooper? My name's Britt Williams. Did Alice mention to you that I was stopping by?"

A smile suddenly appeared on the woman's face. "Britt Williams, I remember you quite well. Your father was one of the best men to ever live in Porterville. He certainly did a lot of good for the town back in his younger days."

She opened the door and invited Britt inside. "How are your parents? I don't think I've seen them in years."

As Britt took a seat on an old fashioned, yet very comfortable sofa, he said, "My mother is doing very well. She goes to the Center here in town about three days a week and volunteers work her tune. They quilt for people, I believe. My father died a few years ago."

A sad look suddenly replaced the smile on Margaret's face. "I remember that now. Sometimes I tend to get things mixed up. They tell me it's my age," she finished, the smile returning to her face once more.

"Mrs. Cooper, I've come here to talk to you about some things."

"Like what?" Margaret asked.

"You mentioned to Alice that I might go looking for information out at the cemetery. Well, I went there, but can't say as if I found anything at all. Just a lot of Porterville history through people's lives, some that I remember, and others I had never heard of before."

The look on Margaret Cooper's face suddenly changed and a hard, almost vicious look appeared, replacing her smile. "Then maybe you should go back out there and look some more. I feel sure you might find some interesting facts, should you look hard enough."

"What do you know, Mrs. Cooper? If you know something, please, help me out here. Just tell me what you know," Britt said.

"Oh, it's not for me to say, nothing I can talk about. However, it could be worth your trouble. Might make a difference to a lot of people, especially the McKenzie's," she added at the last. Her voice dropped to a whisper.

"Did you say the McKenzie's?" Britt asked. The old lady's voice had been so soft that it had been hard to hear the words she had spoken.

"Alice tells me you're a writer."

"That's right. I've written several books over the past few years."

"And you say your father has passed on? That's funny, I could have sworn I saw him walking in front of the house not too long ago."

At first the words startled Britt, and he wasn't sure what to say. Then he remembered Alice saying that her mother often got confused, so he thought this must be one of those times. Finally he said, "Well, the years have a way of getting away from us, and you've just forgotten. My dad's been gone around five years or so."

Surprise shown on her face, and she said, "You don't say! Hum..." Her voice trailed off and her eyes displayed a blank look.

Britt had an idea Margaret could tell him what he needed to know and save him the trouble of going back out to the cemetery, but he doubted she would. A short time later he told her goodbye and left her house.

Backing out of the Cooper drive, Britt made a decision. He would return once more to the Porterville Cemetery, and if necessary, would spend the rest of the afternoon looking for whatever it was that he was supposed to discover, whatever it was that Margaret Cooper knew about, yet would not tell him.

A short time later he drove inside the cemetery grounds for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. He parked his car and started out walking on foot, reading each stone he passed by. He had spent the better part of an hour walking around when he discovered the Porter family plot.

Britt gave a whistle when he saw all the grave markers inside the plotted area. "Wow, I didn't realize the Porter family had been such a large one," he said aloud.

One by one, he read each grave marker. There was Samson Porter, his wife, Amelia Sands Porter beside him. There was Jonathan Porter, and his wife, Louise Maxwell Porter. Next there was Donald Porter, and his wife, Marlene Townsend Porter. This would be Elaine McKenzie's parents. There were several markers after that which meant nothing to Britt. They were names that had not even been listed in the early day files of Porterville.

Britt was about to leave when he discovered a small flat stone hidden in the grass. Curious, he dropped to his knees and pushed the grass away. He tried to make out the dim letters on the stone that obviously had been there for quite some time. He squinted his eyes and tried to focus on the words before him.

DDM

"DDM," Britt said, reading the letters slowly out loud. He repeated them over and over, yet they made no sense at all. Not that he had seen a lot of grave markers during his life time, but he had never seen one like this. They most always had the full name, and the year the person had been born and had died. This one simply had the three letters. D D M. What could they stand for, he wondered?

"Mr. Williams, you do seem caught up with our cemetery."

Startled, Britt looked up. He wasn't surprised to discover Elaine McKenzie standing behind him. As she had the day before, she had again approached him ever so quietly, catching him unaware of her presence.

"And you do seem determined to meet me here, do you not?"

"I told you yesterday, I come here a lot. It gives me great comfort to spend time with my love ones."

"I see," Britt said quietly. He looked down at the small stone and said, "Please, tell me, Mrs. McKenzie, who this small stone might belong to? I'm sure it must be family, given the fact it's in your family plot."

Elaine McKenzie looked down at the marker where Britt pointed. A cold guarded look came over her face. "Not that it is any of your business, Mr. Williams, but that poor grave belongs to a cousin of mine. It was sudden, and he needed a place to rest, so my father let him be placed at the end of the family plot."

"A cousin?"

"That's right, a cousin. Any more questions?" she asked coldly.

Britt stood to his feet and turned to walk away. "Thank you, no. You've been very helpful." Not knowing exactly why he had said it, Britt felt that somehow his words would antagonize the woman even more, and he felt a great deal of satisfaction.

"Mr. Williams, I want you to know that I blame you completely," Elaine McKenzie called after him.

Britt turned back and faced the woman. "And just what is it that you blame me for, Mrs. McKenzie?"

"For my son's behavior. Ever since he has come into contact with you, he has changed almost over night. He is not the same loving son he was before he met you."

"I'm sorry you feel that way. Devon is a good friend of mine, and I enjoy his company very much. However, as I think he pointed out to both you and his father, he is old enough to befriend whomever he chooses. I don't mean any disrespect to you, Mrs. McKenzie, I really don't. I do believe it's time you sat back and let Devon lead his own life. He is a grown man."

"Mr. Williams, I think it's high time you stepped out of the picture and stopped meddling in the lives of people in Porterville. Your mother is a nice woman, and your father, God rest his soul, was an excellent citizen of Porterville. I admire them greatly. You, however, seem to be determined to dig into other people's lives, and that simply will not be tolerated. Do you understand me?"

"I certainly do. You want me to stop before someone gets hurt, is that not correct?"

Britt had purposely repeated part of the warning note found on his mother's porch. If there was any recognition on Elaine McKenzie's part, she kept it hidden quite well.

"I repeat, just stay away from my son. Just because he thinks he's moving into this so called apartment does not mean that I am going to let you continue to ruin his life. I will not permit it. Do you understand what I am saying?"

"All too well, Mrs. McKenzie, all too well."

Saying those words, Britt Williams turned his back on the woman and slowly made the trip back to his car. Although he had no clue what it might be, he felt he was finally close to something. Of what, he had no idea.