Greene comes back into the kitchen. “Ready to go?”
I steal another quick hug from Sam, then give Jess a longer one.
“We’re still sisters,” she mumbles, gripping me tightly. When we finally part, she looks like she might cry. Was her indifference earlier simply an act, a way for her to stay strong for a change to get through this? My heart almost splits in two knowing that although she’s fuming, she still aches and is terrified for me and the whole situation.
“Come on, Sam.” Her voice cracks. “We need to get ready for school.” She wipes her eyes and starts toward her bedroom.
“I’m going to wave goodbye.” Sam darts to the front window and stations himself there in his green dinosaur pj’s, which are now high-waters on him from his latest growth spurt.
“Okay if I grab a cup for the road?” Allison calls to Jess.
Jess points to a catchall cabinet above the fridge. I walk out with Greene. She begins telling me Alderson learned from the coroner thatClarissa died from blunt force trauma to the headbeforewater entered her lungs.
But I can barely track what she’s saying. The fierce grip of Jess’s hug, like she’ll never hold me again, takes my breath away. At the same time, Sam is completing our ritual—waving to me from the front window until I’m officially out of sight.
I flash a big smile and wave back, trying to act carefree. I’m anything but.
Outside, dawn is beginning to rub away the night sky, but it’s still dark enough to see through Jess’s front windows, the lights inside spotlighting Sam at the window. I wave again, but as we get into Greene’s black SUV, I’m picturing how tightly Allison gripped the key chain, her knuckles white. Wouldn’t anyone have held it out if I asked about it? What wasthatall about? I’m not positive Allison has Leon’s key chain, but I’m suspicious.
Ofwhat?
Why on earth would she have that poor dead kid’s key chain?
Have I gotten to the point in my life where I have nothing but enemies and can barely trust anyone in my orbit?
But I’ve heard a lot of lies during my time on both my jobs, and although I may not pick up on them all the time, when my senses wake up, there’s usually a reason for it.
And they’re tingling like hell.
“Mitchell, are you even listening to me?” Greene asks.
“What?”
“About Clarissa Hayes’s lungs. She died from a blow, not drowning.”
Greene puts her keys in the ignition and adds something about the DNA on the water bottle in Clarissa’s pack. I watch Allison come up behind Sam, holding her to-go coffee. Sam is beaming. She is not.
Like a lens on autofocus bringing an object into sharp relief, I make out her expression more clearly. It’s a complicated anxiety, like it’s not just for my safety, but an examining of me and Greene all mixed. There’s calculation in her hard stare.
Allison looks thin and gaunt, stressed in the same way Jess has been, like she’s been through the wringer. Newly formed deep lines etch around her eyes.
Images flash through my head like a skipping film.
Allison doodling at her desk, sketching a lynx on notepaper and me complimenting her, telling her how good it was.
Allison mentioning once that, in Casper, her hometown in Wyoming, when her older brothers were angry at her, they’d bully her by tying her up to one of the pasture fences after dinner, forcing her to stay out till dark in the relentless wind, listening to the coyotes yipping out in the field until their mom yelled at them to go fetch her. She told me her brothers always said if she ratted on them, they’d exact revenge, use her for target practice instead of the old aluminum cans.
Allison complimenting my earrings at the banquet, moving in closer to get a better look.
Allison at the shooting range:Try putting a picture of him on that bull’s-eye, she had said when we talked about Hartley, and I had laughed.
Allison raising her nephew after her sister deteriorated and passed on.
I never met the boy. By the time I joined the force, he was already in high school. I recalled how she sometimes left early for school events. How she talked about him with such warmth, bragged about him being smart and genuine.
“But her nephew?” I say this out loud. To myself. To see if I hear aclick. “Could it have been?”
“Mitchell?” Greene starts the car. “What are you talking about?”
