“I was hoping she ran away with a boyfriend or something like that,” says a woman I don’t recognize.
I’ve suffered many miscarriages and grieved for my babies without even getting to see and know them. I can’t even imagine what Brittney McLaren’s parents must be going through.
“She was killed.” Dolly brings her hand to her mouth. “There’s a murderer in our town.”
Chapter 2
I’m drained when I arrive home at two o’clock, earlier than usual.
Since hearing about what happened to Brittney, I’ve been trying to reach Alex. He didn’t pick up my calls and didn’t return them.
It was chaos at the salon. After the breaking news, nobody was in the mood to work, so Delores closed up shop and we all stayed inside for hours, some talking about what happened, some sitting in silence.
The tragic news about Brittney has affected everyone. Even when I left work, a dark cloud of sadness hung in the air outside. People were gathered in cafés, bars, and restaurants, their eyes glued to the TV screens.
I’m desperate to have Alex’s arms around me. Brittney was not my child, but the pain of loss still cuts through me.
When I park in front of the house, I call him again. Still no answer. I’m not surprised it’s hard to reach him. It must be crazy at the school. Maybe the police are questioning everyone.
I let myself into the house and head straight to the couch. I sit, staring into nothing until my eyes burn with exhaustion. What I need is sleep, hours and hours of it, but I doubt I’ll get much of it today.
I reach for the remote and switch on the TV. On the local news channel, reporters, students, teachers, parents, and police are gathered outside the high school. Some sobbing students are seeking comfort in each other’s arms.
My eyes grow blurry when I catch sight of my husband emerging from the building. I wipe away the tears in time to see the two police officers on either side of him. Only then do I notice that Alex has his hands behind his back.
My stomach drops when I read the words on the screen.
Aston High School janitor arrested for the murder of Brittney McLaren.
My hand flies to my mouth. “What? No. No.”
My entire world comes crashing down. I’m sitting in one place, but my body feels like it’s spinning in circles and I’m unable to stop it.
My mouth is dry as I rise to my feet and pace the room, confused about what to do, too shocked to think straight.
“Alex has been arrested for murder.” My mouth goes dry with fear as I mumble the words.
I run to the TV and place my palms on the screen.
He can’t see me. He can’t feel me.
I grab my phone and call him again. Then it hits me that he won’t be able to pick up his phone. I drop the phone again and clasp my hands together at the back of my head.
They think my husband is a murderer?
It doesn’t feel right. There has to be a mistake.
I grab my phone and keys and run out the door. Behind the steering wheel of the car, I feel so lightheaded I’m afraid I might pass out. I’m in no state to drive.
Like an intoxicated person, I stumble out of the car and run to one of our neighbors’ houses. I need someone to drive me to the station.
Laura Jones has always been kind to me. She will help.
Wrong. She’s home, but she doesn’t open the door. There’s a shuffling noise on the other side of the slab of wood, but it remains shut.
She believes them. Everybody believes that Alex is a murderer.
I gaze at the other houses on the street. I feel their eyes on me, the wife of an accused murderer.
