“I think you know the one I mean. The conversation about what we’re doing here.”
“We’re having lots of sex in the woods.” It isn’t what she wanted to say. She wants to tell him about the feeling she had in the car on the way here. That this is the real thing. Tell him what she loves about him and have the courage to be honest and just hope he feels the same way. The snark is a habit, ugly and cowardly, the way she is with the guys at the station. Always has her hackles up.
He takes a breath. She’s gone a step too far and she knows it. “Okay. I’ll go first. I really like you. But I can’t gauge whether this is a serious thing for you or a diversion. If I had it my way, you’d be my girlfriend. You’d keep a toothbrush in my bathroom. I’d make some space in my dresser for you to keep some things to wear so you didn’t have to leave early all the time. You’d meet my friends. My sister. And we’d see how that feels. You know what? No. I know how that would feel. It would be awesome. But I get the feeling that you’re not ready for that.”
“Is this why you brought me out here? So I couldn’t avoid your questions?”Stop, Callie, she thinks.Just talk to him.But her mouthis a step ahead of her mind. She’s not going to drag this good man into her messy life, into the dark morass of her heritage. He deserves better than that.
“I’d say you’re doing a pretty good job avoiding them now. Which I suppose is its own kind of answer.” He shifts onto his side, and a little bit away from her.
She moves closer to him, closes the space. Takes a deep breath. “I want this. I do. But things are complicated. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stay at my job. Jane and I had a fight. And I don’t know how to stay here without one of those two things. Jane, or a job. Because right now it’s not looking like I’ll have either. I… like… you too.” Coward, she chastises herself. The wordlikeso small. “I’m happy being with you. But I can’t pin my whole life on one person.”
“I’m here. I’m all in on this. I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it.”
“I know… but that’s scary for me. Too scary.”
His hand had been on her stomach. He takes it back and she can only feel the cool air rush over where his warmth had been. “So you’re leaving, is what you are saying.”
“No. I’m thinking about leaving. It’s different.”
“When were you going to tell me?”
“I’ve had a lot on my mind. I just wanted to enjoy this trip, to be with you.”
“A last hurrah.”
“No! It’s not like that.”
“Sure feels like it to me.” He sighs, sits up. How did you screw all that up so fast?she thinks. He cocks his head like he’s going to say something else.Please, she wills him.I can’t speak anymore. I only make everything worse.
“I’ve gotta get some air,” he says.
There’s a blast of frigid night air as he unzips the tent. She watches the zipper work all the way around the edge. How careful he is to close it up completely, not let any more cold in.
When he comes back he says that he’s tired, wishes her a goodnight but does not touch her. She spends the next hour, two, on herback listening to the noises of the woods. She’s finally about to drift off when she hears a howl, high and clear. A coyote. She puts her hand on Adrian’s arm but he doesn’t stir. The animal howls again, louder, and the noise makes her shiver from within the sleeping bag.
The next morningthings have thawed a little. He kisses her on her cheek when she wakes, a chaste peck, tells her he’s made coffee. They sit in camp chairs by the edge of the water and the silence, if a little fraught, doesn’t feel awkward, or punishing, the way it had the night before. He tells her about the kayak route he has planned. That the last time he took it he saw an eagle’s nest. She tells him that sounds good, but finds herself distracted. She’s thinking of Sabrina’s notebook, wishing she had brought it with her, but she had left it at Jane’s when she stormed out after Jane’s confession, and she can’t bring herself to ask for it back, to talk to Jane just yet. The star drawing had looked so familiar to her, but she can’t place it. A logo? A symbol from a band? Where would she have seen it before?
“Hey,” he says. “You with me?”
“I—no. Sorry. It’s this case.” He turns from her, looks at the river with his hands on his hips. She waits for him to tell her to go. That she knows the way. She can leave the kayak with the car, find a way home.
“Tell me about it.”
“It’s—It’s pretty upsetting. A baby was found dead in the woods. It’s been unsolved for thirty years. Are you sure you want to know?”
“You can give me the basics. If it’s on your mind this much maybe you need to talk about it.” He sets himself in the camp chair again. “So. Let’s talk.”
So she does. She tells him about Jenna disappearing. About the DNA results linking her to Baby Doe. She describes finding Annabelle. The tap on her window. All the things she didn’t get to tell Jane, has been holding close. She’s so tired of secrets, her own and everyone else’s. If he wants to be in her life he deserves to make an honest choice, to know every ugly detail.
“I don’t know how to move forward with this one, how to find Sabrina, without offering up Annabelle. Without blowing her cover. And I don’t want to do that. I thought I did, at first. When she was still an abstraction to me. But now? She’s made a life. Has three kids. What good would come of her being punished? What does justice look like for someone like her? Even if she’s tried and not convicted of anything, the disgrace, the shame… it would ruin her. But I also get the sense that there’s something I’m not seeing about Sabrina. Something glaring and big and I just need a little more time and I could do it all—spare Annabelle, find out what happened to her sister. She’s convinced he killed her. And if he did.… then, I’m the daughter of a murderer. The daughter of a lost mother and a very bad man.”
Adrian is quiet for a long time, and she feels it coming. The same conclusion Jenna’s men always made. That there is too much drama, too much damage, for them to contend with.
Adrian clears his throat. “Shit, Callie. I’m so sorry. And to think you’re letting me sit here going on about eagles.”
“I like hearing about the eagles. I just… I’ve never had this feeling before. Like I don’t know how to do my job. That it’s my job to keep people from finding out the truth. That I don’t want to know the truth.”
“Well, you have time to figure that out, right? It’s not like you need to track someone down before they do it again, some crazy serial killer on the loose. Like you said. She’s a mother. She’s got a life. And as far as finding the father goes… Whoever he is, he’s got nothing to do with you.”
