by Cruise, Anna
“You have short-term memory issues?”
“No. I just wanted to see you.”
“Hmm.” He adjusted the hat on his head. “Pretty sure you can drive and talk on the phone at the same time. You seem like you'd do alright at that multi-tasking thing.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You're sounding like a possessive, over-bearing boyfriend.”
“Do I?” A slow grin made its way across his face. “Good.”
I rolled my eyes and sank down on to the bottom step.
“I take it you found her.”
I nodded.
“See something that scarred you? Maybe that's why you couldn't call...”
I fought back the smile that threatened. “Ha. No. They actually were grabbing lunch.”
“Wow. Didn't see that coming.”
“Yeah, me, either.” I was still holding the keys to Kyle's car and I slipped them into my purse. “We talked for a few minutes.”
“She tell you why she called Daddy?”
I set my purse down on the step between us. “Yeah.”
“And?”
I fiddled with a purse strap, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger. “Because I wasn't doing anything. Because I was spinning my wheels and letting Jorgenson call all the shots.”
Ty frowned. “What? That's about as far from the truth as you can get. We got the file. You've talked to Annie's parents.”
“I know.” I stared at the stitching on the leather strap, mentally counting the notches. “But I didn't tell her that stuff.”
“No?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Why not?”
I looked up and fixed him with a stare. “Seriously? Have you met my sister?”
“Yes. And I know she's totally self-absorbed. But this is important. All of this.” He pointed at me. “This is something that has haunted your family for years. You, in particular. And I know no one wants to stir this shit up. But you sorta didn't have a choice as soon as the sheriff came sniffing around.”
He wasn't telling me anything I didn't already know.
“And I know it sucks.” His eyes locked with mine and his voice softened. “I know this is the last place you want to be, the last thing you want to be dealing with.” He shook his head. “You're moving forward. You're going to school. Trying to leave all of this behind. But you need closure. All of you. And if we can figure out what really happened to both of those girls—prove that they were unrelated accidents—that might give you the peace of mind you need, Lily. That peace of mind I think you've been looking for your whole life.”
I felt my eyes fill with tears, felt the lump swell in my throat. Was I that easy to read? How was someone I'd known less than a week able to look at me and dissect my feelings, my emotions, my motives, so effectively? I wasn't an open book. I'd been guarded. Careful. And he'd been able to see through all of it, every last shield and barrier I threw up.
“I don't know that I can find it,” I whispered. “I don't know that it's here. All we have are more questions. Not answers.”
He nodded. “I know. But I think we're close.” He braced his hands on the step and slid down so he was sitting next to me. He put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close and I didn't think, just wrapped my arms around his neck and let the tears come.
“I think we're close,” he repeated, his mouth moving against my hair. “I think we're close to proving that what happened to your sister and to Annie were just accidents. Accidents. Not related. And that you had absolutely noting to do with them.”
FORTY SEVEN
I needed to find my dad.
I sat with Ty for a few minutes longer, getting myself under control. He stroked my shoulder and showered my forehead with kisses but there was nothing sexual behind it. He was comforting me, plain and simple. And it worked.
I straightened, pulling away from him. I wiped at my eyes and managed a feeble smile. “Sorry.”
“For what?”
“For being a total wreck.”
He smiled. “You're allowed.”
I just shook my head, wiping my wet hand on my shorts.
“If anyone has a reason to cry, to be emotional, it's you.” He folded his hands in his laps and looked at me. “So. What now?”
I said out loud what I'd been thinking. “I need to find my dad.”
Ty nodded. “Okay. You think he's still here? In town? I mean, he wouldn't have just taken off, right?”
I shook my head. “No. I don't think so. Not without saying goodbye.”
Ty considered this. “Okay. So where do you think he is?”
Jenna's comment had given me a big clue as to where I thought he might be. I was surprised and a little disappointed that I hadn't thought of it myself. He was back in Pelican Lake for the first time in ten years. Back in the place where he'd lost his youngest child, where life as he'd known it had ended.
I knew my dad. I knew that he wasn't like me. He didn't hide from the harsh realities of life. He didn't close his eyes and put his fingers in his ears and chant loudly to keep from having to see what was right in front of him.
I swallowed.
I knew exactly where my dad was.
Down by the water.
FORTY EIGHT
The sun was hot, the sky cobalt blue and cloudless as I navigated the trail that led down to the river's edge. My sandals kicked up dust as I walked, the dirt path bone-dry once again.
I was alone. Ty had wanted to come with, had frowned and tried to argue when I'd told him I was going alone.
“This is something I need to do,” I'd said, standing up.
“Agreed.” He'd stood up, too. “But you don't need to do it alone.”
“Yes, I do.” I'd looked at him, pleading with my eyes. “Trust me.”
He'd started to speak, then bit his lip, like he was physically trying to keep himself from talking. Wordlessly, he'd nodded.
I picked up my purse and held it out to him. “Put this inside for me? Please?”
He nodded and I turned away, my resolve as strong as it was going to be as I headed out to find my father.
There was no one else out walking the trails. This didn't surprise me. It was late in the afternoon, that lazy time between lunch and dinner, and I knew where most people would be. At the pool. In their campers. They'd venture outside soon, starting campfires and dinner, determined to enjoy the early evening hours before the mosquitoes came out in force.
Birds chittered and crickets chirped as I walked, the only audible sounds in the forest and on the trail. I tried to quell the butterflies in my stomach. I'd faced my demons at the water. Not by choice, but by necessity. It wasn't something I'd wanted, something I'd intended to do since I was stuck there, but fate had dictated I do it. Part of me was infinitely glad that I had. Not only because I'd been able to help Annie, save her from the fate that had claimed the life of my sister, but because it had forced me to stare my past in the face, demanded that I pay attention and make amends.
I wasn't sure how my dad would react. I knew he wouldn't be ranting and raving and screaming at the water that had stolen his daughter. He was quiet, more reflective in his grief. But I didn't know what standing at the water's edge would do to him. Would grief overcome him? Would he be there, sobbing? And would I be able to comfort him? Would I know how? And, more importantly, could I bring myself to try and do it?
I heard the trickle of the river before I saw it. A gentle rushing over the exposed rocks, purposeful but not in a hurry. My feet were soundless on the path and I saw my dad before he saw me. Sitting on a large rock, his legs dangling over the side. I stepped closer and saw his sandals next to him, his toes skimming the surface of the water. His eyes were cast downward and I wished I could see his face, see if he was crying.
I cleared my throat and he startled. He turned to me and I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw his smooth, calm expression.
“Hey.” He smiled.
I shoved my hands in my pockets and took another ste
p toward him. “Hey.”
He scooted over on the large boulder, making room for me, but I didn't sit.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
He cut his eyes back to the river. “Just thinking.”
“You been down here a while?”
He nodded.
“Is it...” I swallowed and tried again. “Is it hard? Being back here.”
He pursed his lips and thought for a minute, his brow furrowed. “No,” he finally said.
“No?”
“Not as hard as I thought it might be.” He dipped his toes into the water. “Rosie's gone. She's been gone for ten years. There's nothing I can do to bring her back.”
I didn't say anything, just digested his words.
“Doesn't mean I don't miss her,” he said. “Because I do. Every goddamn day. But I gave up on the what-ifs a long time ago. Looking for a reason, looking to blame.”
I knew this.
“But you girls?” He glanced at me and his eyes were filled with sadness. “I couldn't control how you reacted, how you processed it. I thought therapy would help. Hoped it would. And I think Dr. Shepard did some good. At least with you.”
“She did,” I said quickly.
“But Jenna?” My dad shook his head. “It was like it never happened. She wouldn't talk about it. Wouldn't let anyone in, let anyone help. Same as your mother.” His voice turned bitter.
“I'm sorry.”
“Not your fault.” He shrugged. “She needed someone to blame. Someone to be responsible for what happened.”
I nodded. “I know. Me.”
He frowned. “No. She didn't blame you.”
“Sure she did.” I could feel myself tense up. “If I'd been watching her, keeping an eye on her. If I'd been a better babysitter.” I knew what my mother had said, both to my face and in late night conversations with my father when she thought the house was sleeping.
“She was five. Not two.” He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and looked at me. “You were twelve. She went to get a game. It was an accident. Nothing more.”
It was my turn to close my eyes, but I was doing it to try to stem the tears that were pooling. He'd always been my biggest champion. And, despite the fact that I was pissed off at my sister for dragging him into the middle of things, I was happy to see him. To have him reiterate, over and over again, that he was on my side. That he believed me.
A voice behind us spoke. “We don't know that for sure.”
Both of our head swiveled.
Sheriff Jorgenson stood at the base of the trail, his hands perched on his hips.
FORTY NINE
“What are you doing here?”
Sheriff Jorgenson looked at my dad. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“My daughter and I are having a private conversation.”
The sheriff glanced around as he approached. His brown eyes were cool as they assessed us. “Isn't that a little hard to do in a public place?”
My dad lifted his feet from the water and swung his legs to the ground. He slipped his sandals on and stood. He and the sheriff stood facing each other, no more than three feet apart. Neither offered a handshake in greeting.
“What can I do for you?” My dad's voice was calm.
“Nothing.” Jorgenson glanced at me. “Unless you can convince your daughter to answer a few more questions.”
My dad looked at me.
“I've answered your questions, sheriff.”
“I have more.”
“I'm not answering them.”
My dad spoke. “I'm unclear as to why you're questioning my daughter.”
“I'm not sure if you're aware, Peter,” the sheriff said. “But we had an incident here a few days ago. Didn't we, Lily?”
I said nothing, just stared, stone-faced, at him.
He continued. “Another girl went into the river. Almost drowned.”
“I am aware,” my dad said. He stood tall, his back ramrod straight. “I'm also aware that Lily saved that girl's life. Pulled her from the water.”
“Perhaps,” Jorgenson said. He tugged at the brim of his hat but his eyes never left mine.
“Do you have evidence that suggests otherwise?” my dad asked.
The sheriff smiled briefly. “I'm not at liberty to discuss the details of the case.”
“Probably because there are none,” I muttered.
His eyes narrowed. “Oh? Are you willing to talk now?”
I could see my dad was struggling to maintain control. “Unless you plan to take Lily in for questioning, we're leaving.” He turned to look at me. “We can get a room in town. That little motel. We'll be right near the shop so when your car is ready, we can all be on our way.”
I wondered if he knew where I was staying. If Jenna had told him. Because I hadn't said a word.
“I'd like to officially request that Miss McMahon stay in town until my investigation is complete.”
“You don't have any grounds to keep her here.”
“True,” the sheriff conceded. “But it would look better in the long run if you cooperate.”
In the long run?
“Why don't we head back to the house?” he said. “Might be a little more comfortable.”
I didn't want to be comfortable. I didn't want to be anything other than free of the suspicions and accusations he was flinging at me.
“No,” my dad said but I held up a hand to stop him.
“Fine.” I glared at him. “You wanna ask questions? Let's do it.”
The sheriff raised an eyebrow. “Change of heart? Just like that?”
“I have nothing to hide,” I said, hoping I sounded as confident in that statement as I felt. “You want to ask questions, ask away.”
He smiled. “Excellent.”
“On one condition.”
His smile disappeared. “You aren't in a position to ask for conditions, young lady.”
“Yes, I am.” I tried to stand tall, to keep my voice strong and firm. “I'll answer whatever you ask. And then I'm done. I'm supposed to be heading to school. I'm ready to put this place behind me, once and for all. So I'll answer your questions, Sheriff. And once we're done, we're done. No more questions unless you plan to arrest me.”
He stared hard at me and I felt myself begin to wither under his unrelenting gaze. Finally, he nodded, so slight it was almost imperceptible.
“Fine,” he said. He turned back toward the trail. “Let's go.”
FIFTY
My dad and I trailed behind the sheriff, shuffling our feet as we made our way up the hill toward the house. His confident stride suddenly halted and I peered around him to see what he was looking at.
A group of people stood on the front porch. Jenna and Sven. Ty's dad and a petite, dark-haired girl I recognized from photos hanging on the walls of the Reilly's home. Mary, his sister.
We moved from the trail to the gravel driveway. Jenna spotted us first. She offered up her hand, a small wave of acknowledgement. Mary's head swiveled and a grin flashed across her face and suddenly she was racing toward us, her arms outstretched. She squealed and I wondered if she was mentally ill. Or maybe she really liked the sheriff. Neither made much sense.
But she raced past us and I turned to watch her go, just as she launched herself into Ty's waiting arms. He was just behind us on the driveway, coming from the direction where the RVs were parked.
“I missed you!” she shrieked.
He held her briefly before giving her a good-natured shove. “Bullshit. You were just trying to see if you could knock me over.”
She made a face and flexed her arm, showing off impressive biceps for a fifteen year-old girl. “Look at it,” she demanded. She dropped her arm and pouted. “I really thought I had you.”
He ruffled her hair. “Next time, short stuff. If you're lucky.” She glared at him but he didn't notice. His eyes shifted to mine and I could read his concern. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, even though i
t was anything but.
Jorgenson nodded at Mary in greeting and she smiled back. She had no reason not to, no reason to feel any animosity toward him.
“Let's talk inside,” the sheriff said to me.
“What's going on?” Ty asked.
I started walking, following the sheriff. Mary watched me with unabashed interest, her eyes the exact shade as her brother. She looked like she a million questions on the tip of her tongue, just waiting to be asked.
“I'm talking to the sheriff,” I told him.
He leaned close and whispered in my ear. “Why?”
I kept walking. “Because.”
Jenna's eyes narrowed as we approached the front porch and she took a step away from the door, pressing herself into a bored-looking Sven.
“What are you doing?” she hissed.
I didn't answer.
The sheriff shook hands with Colin Reilly. He reached for the doorknob, then stopped, fumbled in the pocket of his uniform. He produced an antiquated looking cell phone and brought it close to his eyes, scanning the screen.
He frowned, then turned to me. “Our conversation is going to have to wait.”
My mouth was dry but I managed to speak.“Okay.”
“Anything serious?” Colin Reilly asked.
The sheriff shook his head. “Not unless you consider three dozen chickens loose on County Road 21 serious.”
Colin smiled. “Not serious but it sounds like you might need some help wrangling them up.”
“Fitzwater's truck hit a pothole. Cages fell off the flatbed, popped open.”
Colin looked at his son. “Maybe you can take the truck? Help him out?”
Ty's eyes shot to mine and I knew what he was doing. Making sure I was okay. I nodded.
“Okay,” he said, but his heart didn't really seem in it. I knew the last thing he wanted to do was help Jorgenson in any way.
We all stood there, awkwardly, no one seemingly wanting to move or go save the chickens.
Sven swiveled his head in my direction. “Got the last part I needed this afternoon. I might have you ready to go before five. Tomorrow, I mean.”