The Latchkey Girls

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The Latchkey Girls Page 11

by Leigh Irwin


  I knocked on her closed bedroom door and opened it without waiting for an answer. Emma was sprawled on her bed, textbooks spread around her.

  “Hey. What’s up?” she asked brightly. I stood just inside the room, leaning against the closed door, gripping my cell phone behind my back so tightly that my fingers ached. I wasn’t sure how to proceed.

  “I saw something on the news just now,” I said after taking a deep breath. Emma sat up, crossed her legs and stared at me.

  “Okay. What was it?”

  “I must have watched that footage of Dad being put into the police car a thousand times, but somehow it never registered until just now.”

  “What never registered?” Emma asked, beginning to look impatient. She drew her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them, staring at me with her big, round blue eyes. I joined her on the bed.

  “Just watch this,” I said. I skipped to the crowd scene. Emma watched the video as I played it for her several times.

  “What am I supposed to see?” she asked.

  “I wasn’t sure at first, but I am now. Your dad’s in the crowd.”

  “Where? I didn’t see him,” she said.

  “Look over to the far right of the crowd and play it again.” I handed her the phone, and she watched closely. “I still don’t see him. It goes by too fast. Wait! Let’s watch it on my laptop.”

  She grabbed it and found the news clip. I scooted next to her as we watched. Sure enough, there was Keith. Emma’s eyes widened in shock.

  “What’s he doing there?” she asked.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Well maybe he was there because your dad’s a friend…” Emma said doubtfully.

  “Maybe…. But I’ve got another question for you. Did your dad come home that night Mom was killed? I don’t think I saw him, but we went right up to your room, so maybe I just missed him,” I said. Emma squinted at the computer screen while she thought.

  “You know, I’m not sure he came home at all that night.” She set the computer aside and climbed off the bed. “But wait a minute. Now that I’m thinking about it again, I heard the garage door open and close in the middle of the night. It woke me up.” She stood at the foot of the bed facing me. “But why does it matter?”

  Chapter 26

  “You don’t think your dad helped my dad escape that night, do you?” I asked. Emma looked at me thoughtfully before answering. “Well, he’s somehow involved in all that China stuff, based on the sheet of paper we found. It was definitely his handwriting…. So, maybe he did help your dad. God, I hope we’re wrong.”

  I hugged Emma and went back to my own room, with no more answers than I’d had before showing her the video. Concentrating on homework was out of the question. I couldn’t get that fleeting view of Keith in the crowd out of my mind. Finally, I gave up and texted James. He called me right back.

  “Hey. What’s up?” he asked. Lately, whenever I called or texted, he responded that way, like he was sure there was something wrong. I appreciated the concern, but it was kind of disconcerting to know he thought of me as a disaster waiting to happen.

  “Not much. I just couldn’t concentrate enough to study. When and where are we meeting tomorrow?”

  “How about 10:00 at the park? I was thinking we could ride bikes along the coast. It’s supposed to be nice out,” he suggested, not sounding at all confident about the plan. He worked so hard to find things to take my mind off my problems, and my heart swelled in appreciation. He was definitely one of the good ones.

  “Actually, that sounds perfect. I need to get out of the house and quit obsessing about everything, and I haven’t worked out in ages.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll see if one of my parents can pick us up afterward, so we won’t have to ride back up the hill.”

  “Great. Thanks James. You’re the best!” I disconnected, smiling. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this hopeful, like things might actually get better someday. I tried doing my English assignment after I got ready for bed. The next morning, I was still holding the textbook in my arms.

  Pam was already awake and drinking coffee in the kitchen when I came down.

  “What are you up to today?” she asked. Emma joined us, pulling out a barstool and plopping onto it next to me.

  “James and I are going for a bike ride. I’m meeting him at the park at 10:00. I’ll be back before dinner though,” I said.

  “Sounds fun.” said Emma. Pam smiled and gave me a wink of approval.

  James was waiting at the entrance to the park when I got there, winded from riding up the steep hill. His face lit up in a huge smile, and we kissed awkwardly, still straddling our bikes, our helmets bumping.

  The ride down Hawthorne Boulevard to Palos Verdes Drive always made me a little nervous. It dropped off steeply as it rounded several curves. Even though there was a bike lane, the cars that sped past always went too fast, and I was constantly worried that one would veer into our path. At the bottom of the hill, we decided to go north, toward the high school. The road sloped gently uphill, and the breeze was in our faces, keeping me cool. I pedaled along feeling content, James just behind me, and blocked out everything but the motion of the bike and the gentle sunshine on my back. We rolled onto the street that ended at the high school, and rode onto its grounds. We unbuckled our helmets, grabbed our water bottles, and lay flat on our backs in the damp grass.

  Seagulls flew overhead in groups of two and three. I watched several of them circle and land on the grass just a few feet from us. They strutted about, eyeing us suspiciously, before taking flight again. James rolled over to face me and smoothed my hair out of my eyes.

  “How’s it going?” he asked, looking at me with concern.

  “It’s still pretty bad, but it’s getting a little easier every day. I think I’m ready to get back to school, and I want to start getting my life back together, too.” He kissed me tenderly.

  “Good. I’ve been very worried about you,” he said.

  “I know, and I’m really sorry about that. You’ve been great though, the best. I’m sure I’m not easy to be around these days.”

  “You’re worth it, even if you are a pain in the ass!”

  He smothered me with kisses until I was breathless, the damp grass soaking the back of my T-shirt. I gazed up at him, loving the happy look on his face, and pulled his face to mine. Nose to nose, we stared into each other’s eyes. Suddenly, my stomach growled loudly, and we laughed.

  “Get off me! I’m starving!” I pushed him aside, stood and brushed the damp grass off my clothes.

  “Okay then. Back to work!” James jumped to his feet, and we climbed onto our bikes. The return trip was much easier, since we were helped along by the breeze at our backs, and we were on a gentle downhill slope going that direction. We grabbed sandwiches and water at Trader Joe’s and sat on the edge of a large planter, eating and waiting for James’ dad to pick us up.

  Back at Emma’s, feeling mellow and happy, I took a quick shower and helped Pam put the final touches on dinner. Emma had gone out with Tom, and I still had plenty of homework. My concentration was awful at best, but I would try again. Keith was still at work. He didn’t return until well after we’d finished dinner. Pam and I bantered back and forth pleasantly while we ate, and she kept me company while I cleaned up the kitchen. I headed upstairs, happy to have some time to myself.

  A couple of hours later, I heard Pam’s cell phone ring. As soon as she answered, I tuned it out, going back to my math homework. Suddenly, I heard Pam exclaim angrily, “Who is this?” I dropped my pencil and ran to my closed bedroom door, straining to hear what was going on. There was a long silence, which ended with Pam announcing loudly, “No comment.”

  I couldn’t resist. I opened the door and tiptoed to the top of the stairs. A distinct feeling of deja vu came over me. I shuddered, remembering all the times I’d stood in this exact spot at my house, listening to my parents argue.

  “Who was that?” K
eith asked, joining her in the kitchen.

  “A reporter from the LA Times,” she said in a flat-sounding voice. “He wanted to know if I had anything to say about a story that he was publishing.

  “What kind of a story?” Keith asked.

  “He said there’s evidence that you helped John escape the other night.”

  “What? That’s just ridiculous! What evidence could there possibly be for something like that?” His voiced quavered, and they both fell silent for a moment. My breath caught and I gasped. I leaned on the railing and stared through the picture window into the darkened street. The houses across the cul-de-sac sat silently, bathed in eerie yellowish light. This was starting to sound like my family all over again.

  “Keith? Is there something I should know?” Pam asked, sounding like a parent questioning a wayward child.

  “Of course not,” Keith said in a clipped, defensive tone. “Actually, I was just about to tell you that I have to go back to the office. I forgot to bring something home with me—I’m such an idiot! It has to be done before my meeting on Monday morning.” I heard his voice travel from the kitchen, down the hallway toward the garage. “I won’t be gone long. Promise!”

  “Are you sure? It’s already after 9:00. Can’t you get it tomorrow?” Pam sounded surprised, but also dubious as she followed him into the garage. The garage door opened.

  Keith’s voice was desperate. “I have to go right now, before it gets any later. This project’s gonna to take me all weekend, and I wanna start first thing tomorrow.”

  The car door slammed and the engine roared to life. As I watched through the foyer window, Keith backed out of the driveway and disappeared up the street. My hands shook, and my legs suddenly felt like rubber. I sank to the floor, gripping the railing.

  Chapter 27

  A few minutes after Keith took off, I stood up and walked downstairs, hesitating at the bottom step. I took a deep breath and stepped onto the cold tile, glancing around for Pam. She was in the den, sitting on the couch, head in her hands. I cleared my throat as I entered the room, not wanting to startle her. She looked up, hurt and confusion on her face.

  “Sorry, but I couldn’t help hearing what just went on,” I said, and perched on the arm of the chair across from her.

  “I’m the one who’s sorry,” she commented wryly, sitting up tall and squaring her shoulders. “I can’t believe this! And I’m so sorry you had to hear it.”

  I slid onto the chair and sat cross-legged. “Do you think it’s true? Did Keith really help Dad escape from the canyon?” I asked. I held my breath.

  “It sounds like he did.” Pam sat back on the couch and let her head fall back against the cushion. “Apparently, before his arraignment, your dad implicated Keith, and the information got leaked to the press.”

  I stared at her, shivering as cold permeated my entire body. I hugged myself tightly, trying to control the shaking.

  “I don’t understand. What’s gonna happen now?” I croaked.

  “I don’t know, but at this point, there’s nothing we can do. I suppose there’s still a small chance that Keith’s telling me the truth, although he wasn’t at all convincing. He always was a shitty liar.”

  Her voice sounded bitter. She dropped her hands to her sides, palms up, and sat completely still, her eyes trained sightlessly on the ceiling overhead. She reminded me of a limp rag doll, a vision that made me shiver again. Pam was always so self-assured and full of energy. In fact, she never seemed to hold still. Even when she was on her computer or phone, she constantly tapped a foot or fidgeted with something.

  Emma suddenly burst into the room, smiling broadly, her cheeks glowing with happiness. When she saw the two of us, she stopped dead in her tracks, and the smile evaporated.

  “What’s wrong with you guys?” she asked, standing before us, her purse dangling from one hand by its strap.

  Pam sat up and patted the space next to her on the couch.

  “Come sit down,” she said softly. Emma complied, then looked at each of us in turn, her eyes wide with worry.

  Finally, she said, “Okay. So spill it. What’s going on? You guys look awful.” Pam sighed and put a hand on Emma’s shoulder.

  “We think Dad may have helped Keith escape the police that first night.” Emma leaped to her feet, and stared at Pam, horrified.

  “I don’t believe it! How could you even think something like that?” Tears filled her eyes, but she stood her ground.

  I stared at Emma in amazement, my mouth hanging open. There was no way her dad wasn’t involved in this whole fiasco. For one thing, he was on that news video. Besides that, his handwriting on that piece of paper proved it. He had nothing to do with Mom’s death, but the two of them were in deep with the Chinese, and whatever they were doing had to be illegal. Maybe Keith felt the only way to protect himself was to protect Dad. If that were true, Keith’s plan had backfired big time. I tore my eyes from Emma’s pale face and tuned into Pam’s voice.

  “It all started after dinner tonight when a reporter called me. He said a reliable informant gave him the tip, and they were running the story. As soon as Dad heard that, he decided he had to go back to the office again. I’m not sure when he’ll be back.” Pam reported it all unemotionally, her eyes glued to Emma’s face.

  “So, there’s nothing to worry about. He’ll be back home again, probably in just a few more minutes,” Emma said, glancing hopefully at her mom and then at me.

  “It would be wonderful if you’re right, but the reporter was very convincing.”

  Emma’s face crumpled again, and she sank to the floor, rolled herself up into a tight ball and cried. I sat down by her side and patted her on the back, but she turned angrily and swatted my hand away.

  “This is all because of your screwed up family! You got us into this! Get away from me! You don’t belong here!” she screamed. My mouth opened wordlessly. I scooted away from her, got to my feet and fled to my bedroom.

  I slammed the door behind me, shaking so hard that I just barely made it to the bed before collapsing. Fear coursed through me, replacing all rational thought with an overwhelming urge to flee. I jumped to my feet, my hands sweaty, and texted James: “Can’t stay here. Come get me ASAP!” and hit the send button. A split second later, my phone rang. I answered, sobbing so hard that I had trouble getting the words out.

  “Sam! What’s wrong?” James asked, sounding panicked.

  “I can’t stay here anymore. Emma hates me, and now her dad’s in the middle of this mess, too. I’m leaving. I’ll be at the park. Please let me stay at your house. If you won’t, I don’t know what I’ll do,” I cried.

  “Okay, okay, just calm down. Give me a minute. I heard him running, followed by a muffled conversation with his mom and dad.

  “Meet me at the top of your street in ten minutes. You can stay here tonight.”

  I ended the call and glanced blankly around the room before quickly stuffing a set of clean clothes and sweats into my backpack. I opened my door silently and tiptoed to the stairs, stopping to listen. Pam was murmuring and Emma was still sobbing. They were both in the den. I crept downstairs, rounded the last step and opened the front door as silently as possible. It made a soft clicking noise behind me, and I cringed, but I didn’t stop. I ran to the top of our street.

  A car was just coming down the hill, its high beams cutting through the darkness. I stood and watched it approach. Tears blurred my vision. James jumped out of the front seat and led me to the back, tossing my backpack inside the car before helping me in. He climbed in next to me and put an arm around my shoulders, holding me close. I noticed his mom watching us through the rearview mirror. Her eyes were dark and unreadable.

  We drove to his house without anyone saying a word. Tears still streamed down my face, trickling from my face onto my neck. I couldn’t seem to stop them. I’d never forget that look of hatred on Emma’s face when she pushed me away.

  I’d stopped sobbing by the time we came through the front
door. James led me down a long hallway, and set my backpack onto a large bed in what must have been a guest room. He closed the door behind us, took my hand and led me to the bed. He held me close while I told him what had just happened.

  He left me sometime after I’d fallen asleep, and I awoke the next morning, still fully dressed, lying on top of the duvet. I rubbed my eyes and looked around the room, noticing a door, half ajar, that led into a bathroom. I used the toilet and washed my face and hands, rinsed my mouth and raked my fingers through my hair. My pale, splotchy face looked back at me from the mirror, and I turned away from it, trying not to cry again.

  I picked up my cellphone and noticed there were seven messages and calls. Scrolling through them quickly, both Pam’s and Emma’s names popped up. I left the phone on silent, stuck it into my back pocket and found my way to the kitchen.

  James and Janie were sitting at the kitchen table, eating toast and drinking juice. Janie dropped her toast and leaped up, hugging me hard around the waist.

  “Sam! This is so great! I didn’t even know you were here till I got up this morning!” She beamed at me, and I couldn’t help smiling back as I hugged her. Their mom, whose name I finally remembered was Kim, leaned against the kitchen counter, a faint smile on her lips.

  “I bet you’re starving,” said Janie. “Mom, don’t you think Sam must be starving?”

  Kim smiled, looked at me appraisingly and said, “I wouldn’t be surprised. Would you like something to eat, Sam?”

  My stomach rumbled. I tried to smile, feeling shy and unsure.

  “Thanks. That’d be great. Anything’s fine.” I sat across from James and Janie and ate my toast and drank my juice so quickly that all three of us finished at the same time. Kim had poured herself another cup of coffee and left the room.

  “Let’s take a walk,” James suggested.

  “I wanna go, too!” Janie said, bouncing in front of us excitedly.

 

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