by Edwin Hill
“Good ol’ Lila,” Bobby said, cupping his hands at his chest.
“I got it,” Hester said. “She has big tits.”
“Pocket-size here has a temper.”
Hester took a step toward him, and when he laughed, Cheryl stepped between them and led Bobby to the sofa. “Sit down and drink some coffee. Maybe it’ll sober you up and make you human again. She barely knows Gabe. Met him yesterday. Came here today,” she added in a way that made Hester feel as though she was feeding Bobby cues. “Come and sit down, sweetie. He’s a jerk, but he’s harmless.”
Hester perched on the arm of a chair. Waffles jumped up beside her and tried to climb on her lap. “I’ll stay,” Hester said. “But don’t call me ‘pocket-size’ and don’t call me ‘sweetie,’ and you can either move your little go-cart when I’m ready to leave or I’ll drive my truck right over it. Got it?”
Bobby let out a long belch.
“Honestly, Bobby, you’d think you were raised by wolves,” Cheryl said.
“Wasn’t I?”
“Oh, do shut up,” Cheryl said. She took a sip of her coffee. “What’s Lila want with that boy anyway?” she asked. “Her brother? She didn’t seem very concerned when he disappeared. I figured she knew where he was all along. Didn’t you, Bobby?”
Bobby shrugged and seemed to resign himself to having a civil discussion. “It sure would have helped if she’d offered up some information then. I don’t know if she knew where those kids went or not, but I can guarantee she was thrilled they were gone. Lila’s not exactly the nurturing type. She didn’t tell anyone they’d left for weeks. She said she figured they’d turn up and only got worried when they didn’t come back in time for school.”
That answered Hester’s question about how hard Lila had looked for her brother. After all, it had only taken Hester a couple of days to find him. “Did she ever tell anyone about these?” she asked, taking the postcards from her bag and quickly explaining where they’d come from.
“That little cunt,” Bobby said under his breath as he thumbed through the cards.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Hester said.
“Yeah, that’s a no. She knew all along where they’d gone?”
“At least since the cards started coming,” Hester said. “What else can you tell me about Lila?”
Bobby let out a sigh. “Got a beer?” he asked. “I could use a drink.”
“Not at this time of the day,” Cheryl said.
“Cheryl here is always looking out for my best interest,” Bobby said, “whether I want her to or not.”
“No one else does,” Cheryl said.
“It’s good to have friends, right?” Hester said.
“When you want ’em,” Bobby said.
“So tell me about Lila,” Hester said. “Was she ever a friend?”
“Not exactly,” Bobby said. “She was a year behind me in high school, and we dated for a while. Went to the prom together, but I wouldn’t say we ever actually liked each other. She knew how to party, I’ll tell you that much. We went to Plymouth State together too, her first year, at least. She had to drop out when her parents died.”
“And how did she take that?”
“I’m not really sure,” Bobby said. “We weren’t exactly on speaking terms by then. I fucked that one up in the way only a horny teenager can.”
Hester returned the postcards to her bag. She asked a few more questions but didn’t learn anything she didn’t already know. Finally, she pulled a business card out. “I’ve taken up enough of your time. Call me if you think of anything. And thanks for your help.”
“I’m not sure if we helped much,” Cheryl said.
“More than you know,” Hester said, putting her coat on and heading toward the door with Waffles in tow.
“I’ll move my car,” Bobby said, grabbing his keys, but outside he didn’t seem in a rush. He leaned against the cab of Hester’s truck and ran a hand through his hair, and in that move, Hester could see him as a high school student, all confidence and swagger. He’d have been a boy whose attention Hester would have yearned for, and hated herself for craving it. Even now, it annoyed her to find him attractive.
“It’s cold,” Hester said, her breath freezing as she spoke. “And I should get going.”
“Nice ride,” Bobby said. “An F-150. How do you even drive this thing? Are you big enough to reach the pedals?”
“I manage,” Hester said. “I move the seat close and turn off the airbag. But thanks for pointing out my height. I love it when people do that.”
“What does one of these things go for? Thirty grand? Forty?”
“I don’t know. It’s my boyfriend’s. He uses it for work. I don’t even own a car. I don’t really need one in the city.”
Bobby looked toward Cheryl’s house, then out over the lake. “Sorry I was such an asshole inside,” he said. “We’re close-knit around here. We watch out for each other, and when Cheryl called, I guess I thought she might be in some trouble again. Hearing that DiPursio kid’s name dredged up bad memories.”
“Happens to the best of us,” Hester said. “And apology accepted. How do you even know Cheryl?”
“We go way back. I lived with her in high school. She’s always watched out for me. She made sure I went to college.”
Suddenly their relationship made more sense, the subtle give-and-take, the way Cheryl could scold Bobby without eliciting any anger. “You came through the foster system?” Hester asked. “You were one of her kids.”
“Yeah. And sometimes I feel like I still am.” Bobby turned his gaze from the lake to Hester. “Tell me. Why’s Lila interested in those boys again after all these years? Why now?”
Hester still had that same question, no matter what Lila had claimed. “She told me she’s selling her lake property. Half the money belongs to Sam.”
“Is that what she told you?” Bobby said. “Are you sure this isn’t about the body?”
Hester felt the cold creep into her coat as a chill ran down her spine.
“The one they found over by where Lila lives,” Bobby said. “It’s all they’ve written about in the news this week. They dug it out of a shallow grave on Saturday.”
The same day Lila had called Hester.
CHAPTER 9
Hester pulled into the icy driveway and cut the engine. Lila Blaine’s house was old, with a ragged stone wall that ran along the snow-encrusted property. Two outbuildings that looked like they might collapse leaned along the back of the yard, where a horse stuck its head from its stall and a brood of hens huddled together against the cold. Hester smelled smoke from a wood fire and for a moment heard only the gentle silence of winter. Then Waffles sat up, her bay joining a chorus of barks coming from inside the house. The side door opened. Five dogs ranging in size from small pony to teacup charged into the yard. The largest of the dogs leaped at the truck door as Lila followed, that braid hanging over one shoulder and a rifle cocked and ready to fire.
Hester sank into her seat. She rolled the window down an inch, as Waffles clawed across her lap. “It’s me. Hester Thursby. Sorry for the surprise.”
Lila snapped her fingers and the dogs surrounded her. She patted the biggest one, which looked like a cross between a Saint Bernard and a bear. “This one’s Samantha,” she said. “Then Professor, Taco, Ace. The littlest one is Soccer Ball. He’s the meanest of the bunch.”
“And the gun?” Hester asked. “What’s that called?”
“Clovis here? Ah, don’t worry about her.” Lila cracked the rifle and showed Hester the empty chamber. “She’s not even loaded, though I have some slugs in my pocket if we need ’em. I know guns scare your flatlanders.”
She snapped the rifle together and went inside. A moment later, she stuck her head out. “Well, come on,” she said. “It’s too cold to talk out here.”
Hester inched the truck door open and suffered the indignities of five curious noses while she tried to keep Waffles from leaping into the fray.
“They don’t bite,” Lila said.
Hester let the dog jump out of the cab and scamper across the snow. She followed Lila into the kitchen, where a fire glowed from a wrought-iron stove. Built from rough pine, the kitchen was lined with bookshelves and taxidermy, both large and small.
“Do you always show up unannounced like this?” Lila asked.
“Do you always greet strangers with a rifle?”
Lila ignored her. “We do have phones, even out here in the backwoods.”
“Sometime a surprise helps get straight answers,” Hester said. “It forces the issue.”
Lila stared at where Hester stood in the doorway. Then she filled a kettle with water and put it over a flame. “Still have that kid?”
“I do.”
“And how are things going with that?”
“Doing the best I can,” Hester said.
“Where’s she today?”
“Morgan took her to day care. I didn’t think this was a trip she should come on.”
Lila spooned tea leaves into a flowery teapot that seemed too girly for the rugged woman. “Morgan? Is that a man or a woman?”
“Does it matter?”
“Not to me,” Lila said. The kettle whistled, and she poured boiling water into the pot. “Sit,” she said, waving to the bench at a long farmer’s table. “I don’t get many visitors this time of year. I’d offer you something stronger, but I put all that away once the time changes. If I take a sip in November, the next thing I know it’s May, and I have a pounding headache.”
Hester stepped out of the doorway, sat, and sipped the tea, then fished dog fur from her mouth. “Are the deer heads yours?”
“Most of ’em. I’m a pretty good shot,” Lila said.
“Killing things doesn’t make you feel bad?”
“They eat my roses,” Lila said pointedly. She put the teacup down so that it clattered against the saucer. “But it’s a long drive from Boston to here, so let’s quit the small talk. This is a tiny community. Even when we loathe each other, we still gossip. I heard you were over to Cheryl’s place asking questions.”
“And I heard someone found a body along the lake. I pulled over and read all about it on my way over here. Fascinating reading. They found the body down the road from your house on Saturday morning—the same morning you called me.”
“I have no idea what Cheryl or that stupid Bobby Englewood told you,” Lila said, “but that body has absolutely nothing to do with Sam or Gabe or me, or anything that happened that summer. And no, the body was not found on my property. It was in the next cove over, on conservation land.”
Lila stopped. Hester let silence fill the room for a moment before speaking. “Cheryl and Bobby said you didn’t report the boys missing till school started. Didn’t you tell me they left at the beginning of August? That’s a whole month they were out in the world, and you didn’t think to say anything?”
“Why is that any of your business?”
“You made it my business when you hired me.”
“That’s right. I hired you. I can fire you too. Cheryl told me that you talked to Gabe DiPursio yesterday down in Boston. Were you planning on telling me? Did you find Sam too?”
“Yes,” Hester said, and for the first time since she’d arrived, she saw Lila’s face soften as the news sank in. “He’s fine,” Hester added quickly. “Healthy. Handsome as ever. I haven’t told him yet that you hired me.”
“I can’t believe it,” Lila said. “After all these years, it didn’t even take you a week to find him.”
Hester reminded herself that stories had many sides, and that she hadn’t heard all of the sides of this one yet. “You were right about the name change,” she said. “He goes by Aaron Gewirtzman now.”
“Gewirtzman? What, does he celebrate Hanukkah? And why does he change his name anyway?”
“I wouldn’t know. We barely spoke to each other. Gabe goes by Barry something.”
“And they’re still friends?”
“As far as I can tell. They live together, at least.” Hester sat back and listened to the dogs barking in the yard. “Do you have coyotes around here?” she asked, suddenly worried about Waffles.
“Yeah,” Lila said, her mind obviously still on Sam. “They get the chickens sometimes, but Samantha can take care of them. Soccer Ball too.”
“Waffles is a city dog.”
“And you’re a city girl.”
“I am. A Masshole too.” Hester leaned forward. “So tell me about the body. What does it have to do with all of this?”
Lila shrugged. “I know what you know,” she said. “Remember when we had the nor’easter in November? A bunch of trees fell down around here. A guy over in Sandwich was walking his dog and found a tree that had lifted right out of the ground. The remains were under some roots. I knew they weren’t Sam’s because of the postcards, but …” Lila sighed. “A small part of me thought the body might be Gabe’s. I’d always worried that something … had happened to him. And yes, that’s why I called you. That’s why I got you involved, and that’s probably why we’re sitting here right now. But today the police released more information about the victim. They still haven’t identified who it was, but it’s the body of a middle-aged man, not a teenager. He was murdered with an axe.”
“I read that too …” Hester waited for Lila to fill in the rest of the story. When she didn’t, she added, “And they think it was sometime between ten and fifteen years ago, right when Sam and Gabe left town.”
“I get it,” Lila said, her voice softening as if she was giving in. “But if the body isn’t Gabe’s, then I don’t know whose it is. I’ll leave that to the state police to figure out. All I need to worry about is what to do with Sam. What was he like when you met him?”
“Like I said, I only talked to him for a few minutes,” Hester said. “I had Kate with me and …”
“And what?” Lila asked.
“When we first met, you said that you and Sam got into a fight right before he left. What was the fight about?”
“We’re not going there,” Lila said with a quick shake of her head. “I don’t know you well enough to get into the gory details.”
“How about a few of them, then? If you want answers, then you have to work with me.”
Lila stared into her tea. “Wait here,” she finally said. A moment later, she returned with two helmets in one arm and Clovis the rifle in the other. She stuck her head outside and called the dogs. Waffles, in full pack mode, trotted inside.
“Ever ridden a snowmobile?”
Hester shook her head.
“Figures. Clovis here has a pal named Cynthia. You want to bring a rifle?”
“I don’t think so,” Hester said. “I don’t know how to use one.”
“You’ll need to borrow some orange tack. It’s the last week of deer season, and hunters are shooting whatever they can.”
A few moments later, Hester had left any misgivings she had about heading into the woods behind, and straddled the back of the snowmobile, clinging to Lila’s waist as they flew through the forest. They careened around trees. Blue sky peeked through bare branches, and all around, the world was soft and white. Lila drove them off the trail, over a road, straight down a hill and up the other side to where the lake, gray with ice, opened in front of them. “The surface froze a couple of days ago,” Lila shouted over her shoulder.
Hester squinted against the wind, trying to imagine the lake in summer, blue beneath the sky, with the sun dappling the shore in golden light. She’d have traded a day of her life right about then for a few degrees of warmth. Lila revved the engine. They sped around an outcropping of granite and into a clearing on the edge of the lake. A cabin, overgrown and iced in, was tucked into the trees. Lila pulled to a stop, swung off the snowmobile, and grabbed the rifle from where she’d strapped it to the back. Hester trudged after her through the eight inches of snow to the edge of the lake, where water had frozen right around the remains of an old dock.
“Gabe and Sam and I used to come here that summer,” Lila said. “We drank beer and smoked cigarettes. We spent practically every day here.”
“It’s beautiful,” Hester said.
“It is,” Lila said. “I’ll be sad to see it go.”
“Why sell, then? Couldn’t you fix up the house and rent it out?”
“Sure, if I had the money. But this place takes every cent I have in taxes. They cost me forty grand last year. That doesn’t leave much for fixing a roof or putting in a septic system.”
“Forty thousand dollars?”
“Welcome to New Hampshire.”
“What do you do anyway? How do you pay for this?”
“Whatever I can find,” Lila said. “Turnover work in the summer, cleaning lake houses and making sure they’re ready for the next renters. The rest of the year, I pick up what I can. I’m pretty handy, though you wouldn’t know it looking at this house. I can fix a stone wall or build a deck. This is a place where the rich move and the poor are stuck and anyone in between leaves.”
“And that’s why Sam wanted out?” Hester asked.
“I haven’t a clue why he left. That’s what I hired you to figure out.”
“You must have some idea,” Hester said.
Lila looked out over the ice. “Gabe and Sam used to sneak out at night. They thought I didn’t know, but I did. We had a canoe down here, and they’d take it onto the lake and go to houses that Sam knew were empty for the week. We did turnover work then too, so it was easy enough to know who was here and who wasn’t. Sam liked to pretend that he was rich. He’d sip their gin and practice a Brahmin drawl. He’d take little tokens that I’d find in his room. He’d go through their things and try to figure out how they’d become the people they were.”
“And that’s why he ran away? Because he couldn’t become who he wanted to be if he stayed here.”