Eight weeks earlier
They rode in tandem, with Caleb and Avery taking the lead in his white convertible Jeep and J.R.’s BMW on his tail. Ethan rode in the back seat and Grace in shotgun. Avery learned from her father, a successful realtor in town, about an abandoned piece of property just on the outskirts of Timber Falls. It had fallen into foreclosure and was taken over by the bank a month ago. They turned down the long gravel driveway that led them into oblivion and away from any prying eyes.
“Nice find, Aves,” Caleb said as he cut the engine but let the music still play over his speakers. His hand slid to her thigh and gave it a light squeeze. No one, especially Avery, knew when she and Caleb were on and when they were off. But from the way he was looking at her now, she decided that at least for tonight they were together. She gave him a flirtatious smile as she hopped out of the Jeep, her cheerleading skirt replaced with jeans.
It was easy to see the two-story farmhouse once was filled with life and love but now looked fallow and dark. It was surrounded by acreage, as many of the homes in Timber Falls were. They were tucked away from the road, hidden among the trees where no one would see the lights of their cars or the hear the sounds of their voices.
Grace laid out blankets from J.R.’s trunk while the boys gathered branches and wood to start a fire.
It was after ten, and the night was getting away from them. Friday nights always began with a football game, and tonight the win had been against the Wolverines in a way that was just pitiful to watch. J.R. ran his team like a well-oiled machine, systematic and powerful. His arm was the engine, hitting his target without strain. Ethan’s hypersonic wheels ran that ball to the end zone while Caleb blocked the opposing team like a steel wall. They were unbeatable, and no team wanted to go up against them. Grace and Avery screamed from the sidelines, keeping the crowd chanting and entertained.
But now, as students gathered at parties where the stars were expected to attend, they chose to hide away from it all and congregated around the fire with a case of beer. Caleb’s mom, Kate, always kept a twelve-pack in the fridge, though she never drank. It was understood among Caleb and her that the beer was for him, though she never said it outright. It took the guilt off of her for officially supplying it.
Caleb passed the cheap cans around, and the sounds of tabs breaking intermixed with the crackling of the fire. The night was cooler than the night before as fall was creeping around the corner. It wasn’t as easy for them to pretend on these weekends that it was still summer, though they held on to it for as long as they could. The air was becoming crisper, the smell poignant with burning fireplaces and dying youth. This was their last year together. At least until they all made their way back after college, if they chose to do so. It was present among them, they could feel the ticking of the clock as if it matched the pace of their heartbeats. There was a craving for this part of their life to be over and another aching for it to never end. It’s all they had ever known.
Grace settled between J.R.’s legs, nursing her beer, and laughed along as they discussed tonight’s game in all its dignified glory. She may not have always understood the way the game was played, but she did know she was with the king of the team. The king of the town.
She had staked her claim on him in third grade, but he hadn’t noticed her until middle school. Even then, it wasn’t until freshman year that he officially became hers. Their name went together as though it were one. No one remembered what it was like before Grace and J.R. were a couple. Avery had never been good about hiding her jealousy over Grace and J.R.’s relationship. Not that she wanted J.R. for herself—no, he had always been too pretty for her taste. She just wished that Caleb doted on her the way that J.R. did for Grace. Grace told her the key was to keep the power in the relationship. She knew what J.R. wanted above all else, and as long as she held on to that, it would keep him on his knees. Avery’s problem was she gave it up to Caleb at every opportunity she had.
“Where’s that cute piece of ass you were playing with this summer, Ethan?” Caleb asked with a coy smile on his face. He knew Ethan wasn’t the type to just mess around. That’s what was fun about teasing him.
“Her name was Brittany, Caleb,” Avery said, giving him a jab to the ribs.
“Brianna,” Ethan clarified, taking a drink of beer. They all laughed at Avery’s mistake.
“Whatever,” Avery said with a roll of her eye. “How can we keep track when you don’t bring the girls you date around us?”
“Can you blame him?” J.R. teased. He ran his free hand through Grace’s hair, the way she liked him to. “You two treat any girl Ethan dates like an outcast.”
“What?” Grace gasped. “We are just being protective of Ethan.”
“Exactly,” Avery added. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and smiled at Ethan. “No one has been good enough for him.”
Ethan laughed, his face flushed from the attention. “Thanks, girls.”
Ethan was used to being the third—or like tonight, fifth—wheel. It wasn’t that he didn’t have a list of girls begging to be next, but he kept his love life under wraps, unlike his friends. He had been seeing a girl over the summer from another school that he kept low key when talking about her to his friends. What he didn’t share were the many late nights that had turned into many first for both of them. He thought they could survive the school year being apart, but football always took first place in his life, whether he wanted it to or not. And she did not have the patience for it.
Caleb finished his first beer, letting out a loud belch as he crushed the can in his hand and tossed it aside.
“You are so gross,” Avery moaned, moving away from him. He slid an arm around her and brought her to his lap. She pretended to fight him off as though she didn’t love the attention.
“Didn’t your mom teach you manners?” Grace never understood Avery’s attraction to Caleb. Ethan was a much better catch and a lot hotter, too, with his wavy golden hair and hazel eyes. Why couldn’t she go for him? Grace always thought Caleb looked a little scary with his shaved head and narrow eyes.
“Nope.” Caleb grinned. “I’ve had to learn them all on my own, and not from my maid.”
Grace glared at him. J.R. felt her tighten in his arms and laughed to calm her down. “Okay, Weston, lay off.”
Caleb feigned innocence with a lift of his hand as to say, “What did I do?”
“Grace loves me.” Caleb smiled. Grace rolled her eyes but couldn’t deny it. For all his pomp and egotism, he was the backbone of the group. He had stood up for her on many occasions, like the time in eighth grade when Angela, the class bitch, stuck gum in her hair and Caleb told her that he had never hit a girl before, but he would if she messed with Grace again. Maybe she could see some of Avery’s attraction to him.
He lit a joint and passed it to Avery, who promptly took a drag before handing it to Ethan.
Ethan shook his head as he took a sip of beer. “I’m good.”
“Since when?” Caleb chided. Ethan never turned down a good joint.
“Since today,” Ethan shot back. “Is that okay with you?”
“No.” Caleb laughed and Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle.
Caleb narrowed his eyes at him. “Come on, Deadman.”
Ethan glared at him. He hated when Caleb pulled that shit on him. “You’re such an ass,” he said, reluctantly taking the joint from Avery.
He took a hit and blew the smoke slowly in Caleb’s direction, holding his stare and thinking back to the summer he and J.R. were ten and used to ride their bikes two miles from home to a field in east Timber Falls.
The field had been abandoned, though there was talk that new housing construction was to begin there. Both the Youngs and the Hudsons had banned the boys from going there. They spoke of druggies and bad kids who hung out in the fields, and wanted their prized children to be as far away from it as possible. But the boys also heard other talk of a hole in the field like a giant dirt skate ramp where kids would gath
er with their bikes to see who could ride it.
J.R. and Ethan would huddle with the other kids and chant on the boys, usually four or five years their senior, who would straddle their bikes at the edge of the hole and ride down the steep slope as fast as they could and up the other side. It was too deep to pedal out of. If you didn’t get enough speed to ride it in one stride, then you would slide down to the bottom of the pit. And that pit they named Deadman. Deadman’s Pit.
Neither J.R. nor Ethan were ever brave enough to ride their bikes, knowing if they got stuck at the bottom it was nearly impossible to get out on your own, and the ridicule you received at school was not worth the embarrassment.
Until one night.
It was after dinner, and the boys were due to be home when the sun set, but when they rode out to Deadman’s Pit, they found themselves alone for the first time. At first, their instinct was to ride home, until J.R. got a wild idea to try it.
“No one is here to see if we fail,” he’d said, looking over the edge, contemplating how far down it really was.
“No way,” Ethan said, shaking his head. “What if we get stuck and can’t get out?”
“Don’t be a wuss,” J.R. chided. “Kids get out all the time. I’d help you.”
Ethan’s eyes widened. “Hell no. You go first.”
“Don’t you want to prove to yourself that you can do it?” J.R. continued. “Then we can come back and show those older kids. Think about what they would say.”
Ethan swayed back and forth on his bike. It was hard to reason with J.R. when he got an idea in his head, especially when he was right.
J.R. looked back over the edge, considering his plan. He really did want to do it, even if his palms were starting to sweat on his handlebars. If he could just convince Ethan to do it first.
“Let’s flip a coin,” J.R. decided, taking a quarter out of his pocket. “Call it,” he said as he flung it in the air.
Ethan closed his eyes. “Heads.” He held his breath, and when he opened his eyes, J.R. was staring at the ground with a smirk on his face.
Ethan cursed. Heads. “You swear you will do it after me?”
J.R. held out his hand. “Pinky swear.”
Ethan took that promise and then backed up his bike. The knot in his belly tightened, but he pushed it aside. He wanted to prove to himself, and mostly to J.R., that he could do this.
He rocked his bike back and forth before jumping on the pedals and pumping his legs as fast as he could go. He caught J.R.’s face just as he started down the hill, and the look of awe in his best friend’s eyes was worth all the terror he felt speeding down the slope. His hopes turned high as his bike began to climb the other side of the hill, and just as his front tire touched the tip of the ledge, his mouth opened in the wildest grin, knowing he had done it. But then, just as quickly as the top arrived, it faded when it became clear he did not have enough stamina to get the rest of his bike to the top. He began to slip back. His instinct was to pedal, but it was no use. He toppled off his bike and rolled down to the bottom of the pit.
He could hear the cries of J.R. through the ringing in his ears. For a moment he thought he was fine until he tried to move and his arm jolted in sharp pain. He screamed, and then to his embarrassment, the tears flowed.
“My arm!” Ethan cried. “I think I broke my arm, J.R..”
J.R. lay on his belly, leaning over the edge. “Ethan, you have to get up.”
“I can’t,” Ethan moaned. “Help me.” The pain was excruciating. At that moment, the fear of his parents finding out paled in comparison to his need for them. “You need to get my dad.”
J.R. was frantic. What if they got caught out here? He would be grounded for life. No football, no video games, no arcade.
“No way!” J.R. called down. “Then he’ll tell my dad.”
Ethan opened his eyes and glared at his friend. “J.R.!” he yelled. “Go get my dad!”
J.R. sighed, knowing there was nothing else he could do. If he tried to get Ethan out himself, then there was a good chance they could both get stuck.
He rode home and brought back Nick Young, who got Ethan to the hospital where he had to have surgery and a cast. Both boys were grounded for a month and forbidden to ever go back. They kept that promise until Caleb showed up in seventh grade.
When Ethan and J.R. told Caleb the story, he said he had to see this place for himself. Since the housing development fell through, the hole was still there, though rarely used anymore. They took their bikes out to Deadman’s Pit, and as Ethan and J.R. stood back from it, the memories of that night still lingered in their heads, Caleb jumped at the shot. He backed his bike up and set out at high speed. Ethan and J.R. called out for him to stop, but it was too late. He was over the edge and on the other side in a flash. He dropped his bike and howled at the rush of it all.
When he was back by their side, he patted Ethan hard on the back and said, “How’d you like that, Deadman?”
It was a reminder of Caleb’s bravery and Ethan’s cowardice. And he was never afraid to remind him of it.
Ethan took another drag of the joint and passed it back to Caleb. They shared an icy expression not seen by the others. They saw through each other in a way that was never spoken but clearly understood. Ethan had had just about enough with Caleb taking control of the reins.
Second day gone
Nearly twelve hours after everyone cleared out of the Hudson home, they were all back, as though they never left. And the room was filling up with others. The mayor’s house had become the unofficial volunteer station.
When the three boys didn’t arrive for their first class Monday morning, word began to spread quickly. First, it was the whispers among the students that turned into the questions that neither Grace nor Avery could answer. Soon, the teachers were talking, which finally reached the principal. He had a call in to Mayor Hudson before the end of the first period.
To Jameson’s dismay, he may have been wrong. Would his son really have had the gall to leave and not tell Anna where he was going? He thought back to only a couple days before, to the words that were shared between them, the accusations that flew with the rise of their voices. Could J.R. have let something as simple as a fight be enough of a reason to not return home?
The idea was absurd.
In his belly, he began to feel the turning as anger melted into anxiety, though he refused to show it. Anna was hardly holding herself together. What good would it do if he displayed any concern?
And then there was the chief, taking over his home and running it like a damn military outpost, separating over-eager volunteers into search groups. They had enough people to cover most of Timber Falls. Rex was looking at him now, his eyes clouded over as though he was searching for something in Jameson that he couldn’t quite find yet. He probably had a hard-on from all the action in the last forty-eight hours. More police work than he had to do in all his years as chief. Jameson kept this town clean, well respected, and clear of criminal activity. Now it was his own son making waves.
Where the hell are you, J.R.?
Rex noticed the way the mayor looked back at him, and it made him fume. In his eyes, it showed his lack of confidence in his work as the chief. Maybe he was right; maybe he wasn’t the best man for the job. But he was who Jameson and this town were getting, whether they wanted it or not.
Rex turned away long enough to answer a question from a volunteer, and when he looked up, Jameson was in front of him. It caught him off guard.
“Mayor.” His head jerked back to look up at him. “How are you holding up?”
Jameson reached behind him, and it was then that Rex realized he was blocking the coffee station. He took two steps to the side and wondered if the mayor had even heard him speak. Jameson poured a cup of hot coffee, keeping it black, and took a sip before answering.
“My home is overtaken by the public, Chief. How do you think I’m holding up?”
Rex took notice that the mayor didn’t mention a
nything about his son being gone, only the inconvenience of his home being disrupted. He looked over at Anna, who was nestled on the couch with her daughter Emma on one side and her youngest son, Drew, on the other. Drew was only eleven, the baby of the family, and a miniature version of J.R. and Jameson. Anna held tight to him. Rex thought she looked as though she hadn’t slept in two days, and maybe she hadn’t. Her face was red and blotchy from crying, her hair tangled in a clip on her head. He tried for a moment to think about what she must be feeling, but then he pushed that thought away.
He cleared his throat. “We have our first crew going out now, searching parking lots, abandoned warehouses, and the woods.”
Jameson, being several inches taller than Rex, looked down at him, his lips tight when he asked, “And just what is it that you think they will find, Chief? Are you telling me they’re looking for my son’s body?”
“I’m hoping we find any sign of them.”
The mayor shook his head. “No, what you need is people out on the road, looking for his car.”
“We have that, too,” Rex said patiently. “I’ve spoken with the sheriff and he has officers looking for his plate numbers.”
“What a fucking debacle,” the mayor said under his breath. And then the anger was back and he was damn certain that his son was going to walk in any minute, and he had to keep himself in check so as not to take him by the throat.
“Well, until we have a car, we see no reason to be alarmed,” the chief said to calm the mayor down. He could see the flare of his nostrils and the pink of his cheeks. He felt a hand on his arm and turned to see Anna.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, Chief.” But she wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes, bloodshot and puffy, were tilted to her husband. “James, I think we should send the kids to my mom’s.” When he huffed, she continued. “The school called asking if they would be out for more than today, and I think it’s important to not confuse them with this kind of chaos.”
Rex found this time to excuse himself only to quickly regret it. He met the gaze of Kate Weston as she walked through the door. He took a long drink of his black coffee, hoping the potency covered up the smell of the whiskey he had poured in it. She kept her eyes locked on him, holding him in place as she headed right for him.
Someone Knows Something Page 3