Summer didn’t know what to say. Of course.
Rachael handed her some more napkins. “Big deal. You know how long that road is? How many people live on it? You didn’t know who he was or who he was looking for.”
“But I should have.”
“Why?” Rachael dismissed her with a wave of one hand. “You’re being ridiculous. It wasn’t your fault. If you didn’t give him directions, the next person to come along would have. You know that. And if not last night, he would have taken her another time.”
“Maybe.” Summer still couldn’t shake the guilt or the accusing look on Damian’s face as he stormed away. She took a deep breath. “But that isn’t the only thing.”
Rachael frowned and waited for her to go on.
She squared her shoulders and laced her fingers together. “Remember how I told you I could never remember what happened the night Donnie died?”
“Yeah. What does that have to do with anything?”
She pressed her fingertips to her lips and fought for composure. She’d have to tell this story more than once. People needed to know, starting with her best friend. Get it over with. The first time will be the hardest. “This morning, I remembered. I was driving. The night Donnie died, I was driving Gabe’s car.”
“Wait—what?” Rachael stared at her. “But you didn’t have your license.”
“Exactly.”
Rachael sat back in the booth. “I can’t believe it. You’re wrong. You have to be.”
“I’m not, Rach. I think maybe with what happened with Dinah—it triggered it or something. I was thinking about her, and about Donnie, and then…I just remembered everything. I was driving because Gabe had been at a party earlier that night. He’d been drinking.” She gulped. “So I thought it would be better if I drove us home. Safer.”
“He went to jail,” Rachael whispered.
“I know.” Tears covered her face. “But why didn’t anyone tell me that? Why didn’t you?” Maybe she would have remembered sooner, or been able to change the outcome of the sentencing. Frustration and guilt seeped into her pores. She’d never be able to give those two years back to Gabe. Never.
Rachael rested her chin on one palm. “We didn’t talk for—what? Almost a year after you left. And when we did, you were so…fragile. Confused. I didn’t know what you knew and what you didn’t. All you talked about was college or your latest job. Never anything about the accident or your brother. And definitely never anything about Gabe.”
“I didn’t know where to start.”
“And now? What the hell are you gonna do now?”
She met her best friend’s gaze. “I have to tell people. They have to know the truth. I was driving, and I didn’t see the other car, and I was the one who didn’t stop in time. Not him.”
“Oh, Summer.” Rachael got up and slid into the booth beside her. She folded her friend in a hug, and they sat there a long time without speaking.
It is these small pieces that heal. The pieces you dig up, dust off and show to the light, hoping they’ll hold their form without shattering. One at a time. She closed her eyes and wept into Rachael’s shoulder.
“I want to go on Channel 6. As soon as I can.”
Rachael pulled back with a look of horror. “Are you kidding? You don’t have to announce it to the world.”
But she’d made up her mind. The only thing she needed to do was call the local cable station and find out when she could get airtime.
Chapter Twenty
Ginny Jameson, Channel 6 anchor, arranged her face and fluffed her hair. Summer stood across from her, frozen. The clock in the center of town chimed six times.
“I still can’t believe you’re doing this,” Rachael whispered from behind her left shoulder. “You don’t have to.”
Yes, I do. Summer looked out at the knot of people that had gathered near the steps of the Pine Point Central School. She was still startled it had happened so quickly. One call to the police, another to the central desk at the cable station, and a camera-and-lighting entourage hovered around them, ready for the evening news.
“Good evening. This is Ginny Jameson for Channel 6 News, coming to you live from Pine Point, where a startling turn of events has stirred up this small town.”
To say the least. Summer wound her fingers in her skirt and hoped she didn’t have to move. If she did, she’d catch a heel in the stairs and sprawl out for the entire viewing area to see. She squinted against the camera lights. She thought she saw Gabe standing at the edge of the crowd. She hadn’t told him about the news conference, but she was pretty sure Pine Point’s grapevine still worked as well as ever.
“Earlier today, eight-year old Dinah Knight was kidnapped from her home by her estranged father…”
Summer fought against tears. Don’t listen. Just figure out what you’re going to say. She could only deal with one tragedy at a time. Better not to think about Dinah, or Hannah and T.J., until later, when they were off camera. And better not to think of Damian at all. Ginny widened her eyes as she told the story of abduction, stringing together scant details. “…authorities have widened their search, but there have been no leads since early this morning.”
A movement at the edge of the crowd made Summer turn. Damian eased his way past the steps and behind a cameraman. The blood left her face. She hadn’t expected him to come.
“…anyone with information about a man resembling Theodore Braxton or a red pickup truck with Maryland plates, should contact authorities at once.”
They cut to a commercial, and a woman darted in to powder Ginny’s nose. Summer smoothed the hair at her temples and blew out a breath. She could do this. She had to. She looked across the tops of people’s heads, searching for Damian, but he’d disappeared.
“All set?” Ginny asked with a bright smile.
Summer nodded. The cameraman adjusted his light, and then she couldn’t see anyone in the crowd. Just as well.
“We’re back in Pine Point, where a little girl was taken hostage early this morning.” Ginny began her recap in a somber tone. Her smile of thirty seconds earlier had vanished. “But that isn’t the only cloud hanging over this town tonight, where friends and neighbors wait and pray for Dinah Knight’s safe return.”
The newscaster paused and turned to face Summer. “Ten years ago, another youth disappeared, this one the victim of a deadly car accident. A local man served two years for manslaughter in the case, but today, the sister of the boy came forward to claim responsibility for the accident.”
Ginny thrust her microphone in front of Summer. “Is it true that you were driving the car the night your brother died?”
The voices around her swelled with surprise. Whispers turned into murmurs and became a chaos of chatter. Summer couldn’t see the residents of Pine Point, but she knew they stood there gaping at her.
“Yes.” She lifted her chin. “I was with Gabe Roberts, but I was driving his car. We were dating at the time. I went into shock right after the accident, and I didn’t remember anything for years. Until just a few hours ago, really. But…”
She said the rest as quickly as she could. Don’t blame him anymore, she begged the town. It was never his fault. Only once did she try and focus on the faces around her. She thought she saw Gabe with a restless smile on his face that disappeared when someone moved in and clapped a hand on his shoulder. Within minutes, the crowd had obscured him.
“…and I’ll be returning to California within the week,” she finished. That had been the only easy part of this whole decision. She didn’t belong here. She could make amends, but she couldn’t carve out a new existence for herself. Just the thought of it exhausted her. Gabe and the town, Damian and his mother and sister—they all would be fine without her.
Ginny wrapped up the segment with another plea for information about Dinah’s kidnapping, which Summer echoed. It couldn’t
happen twice, she thought. This town couldn’t lose two children. The universe couldn’t be that cold. The setting sun cast shadows across the crowd, but she saw so many faces she knew. Teachers from the school. Tellers from the bank. Neighbors she’d grown up with. Friends she’d turned her back on.
She stumbled down the stairs as the news crew packed up their vans and headed over the hill to Cedar Crest. No one waited for her, but it didn’t matter. She’d done the right thing. Now she needed to do a second right thing. She needed to go back to the police station and see if there was anything she could do to help. Man the call lines. Even make coffee for the cops pulling night duty.
Donnie might have died, but she’d do everything in her goddamned power to make sure Dinah came back home to Pine Point safe and sound.
* * * * *
He was leaning against the brick wall of the high school, half-hidden by shadows and basketball hoops.
“Hey.”
Summer froze.
A car drove by, the lights above them flickered and Gabe materialized a few feet in front of her. “You didn’t have to do that.”
She hugged herself against a chill. “Yes I did. People needed to know.”
“I think most people got over it a while ago.” He took a step closer and she could smell his cologne. She didn’t recognize it; it wasn’t the same stuff he’d worn in high school. Probably just as well.
“Doesn’t matter. It was still the right thing to do.” She edged next to the wall to put a little space between them. The feeling of standing beside him, looking up sideways to catch his grin, tossed her back ten years in a heartbeat.
“Ah, Summer.” He met her gaze.
“Have you heard anything about Dinah?”
He shook his head. She checked her cell and wondered if Damian or Hannah would call her. She wondered if she could dare believe she meant that much to them.
Gabe leaned back against the wall. Their shoulders brushed. “You hungry? You want to grab some dinner?”
“I don’t think so.” She couldn’t think about eating. Again she saw Damian’s cool gaze move across her, then away, as he listened to her confession. She turned toward Gabe, meaning to ask him something about the accident, but the words died on her lips when she saw the way he was looking at her.
Curious. Familiar. Caring.
A second later he leaned down and kissed her. Her fingers curled around air. She leaned into the kiss for a moment, remembering the dozens of times he’d touched her exactly the same way. Then she pulled back at the same instant he did.
He stuffed his hands into his pockets, and his smile crooked a little. “Not there anymore, is it?”
She shook her head, surprised. She always thought she would hold a piece of her heart for Gabe Roberts forever.
“You love him? This Damian guy?”
She lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know.”
“You should tell him how you feel.”
“Not sure it’s really the best time.”
“You should tell him anyway.” Gabe paused, then leaned over and placed a chaste kiss in the center of her forehead. “There isn’t always a best time, or a best way, or a best anything when it comes to stuff like that. But time gets away from you before you know it. It’s tough to say things after too long, especially when there’s a couple thousand miles between you.”
I know.
Summer stood there a long time after he left, thinking.
* * * * *
Damian stared out the window of Zeb’s Diner, where his mother had sent him for coffee after the press conference.
“You can’t stay in the house and pace,” she’d said. “You’ll make me crazy.”
Then he saw Summer pull up and park outside the police station, and his throat closed. He was glad when she didn’t come into the diner. He didn’t know what he’d say to her. He’d watched the whole live news segment over at the school, and though he knew in some way hers was a noble gesture, he couldn’t see past the fact that she’d lied all those years ago and let someone else take the blame. So she was leaving town, huh? Maybe he didn’t know Summer Thompson at all. Maybe no one did.
He wrapped his hands around a cold cup of coffee and eyed an empty Main Street. As the wind shifted, clouds scudded across the sky. A half-moon glowed down, and from where he sat, he could almost see the end of Main Street, where it turned into Red Barn Road. If he squinted, he could make out the third-floor windows of Summer’s house. Dark. Silent and empty. Like he felt right about now.
For the first time all day, thoughts of T.J. and Dinah vanished. He forgot the fear and worry crawling up his skin and lingered over the memory of what had happened at that house less than twenty-four hours earlier. Cream-colored toenails. A hand that rested on his shoulder and a smile that asked him to play for her. A mouth that reached to his, that breathed him in and asked him to stay without saying a word. A naked body beneath his.
My God, she is poetry. She is music under the moon, pieces of a puzzle I want to curl my hands around and move together with my own.
Yet he hadn’t said a thing to her. He’d stood there at the school, less than ten yards away, and stared at her without words. He’d wanted to take her in his arms. He’d wanted to blame her. He’d wanted to kiss her. He’d wanted to hate her.
He’d simply wanted her. Still did, more than ever.
Damian shook his head. He couldn’t afford to think about her that way. Not now. He checked his watch. Why hadn’t they heard anything? His leg jounced with nerves. He couldn’t stay here any longer—even staring at the gray walls of the police station was better than watching couples hold hands over milkshakes.
“Damian?”
He looked up. You gotta be kidding me. Not her. Not tonight. Before he could say a word, Joyce Hadley slid into the booth beside him.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“What are you doing here?”
She waved toward the front counter, where one of her look-alike sisters was picking up takeout. “Getting dinner.” She paused. “I saw you over by the school. While Summer was on the news.” Her leg pressed against his. He didn’t move away. “I never knew that, about the accident. Guess no one did.” She clicked her fingernails on the table. “Can’t believe it. Gabe was a good guy. Is a good guy.”
But Damian didn’t want to talk about Gabe Roberts. He’d watched the guy while Summer talked. He’d seen the history on both their faces.
“You haven’t heard anything?”
He shook his head. He could smell Joyce’s perfume. For some reason, it didn’t make him gag tonight. She wore less makeup than usual, and without all that eye goop he could actually see light blue irises surrounded by dark lashes. A picture of Summer lying beside him beneath white sheets circled around his brain and fell away. She’s leaving town. It’s too late, anyway.
He tried to speak but his tongue felt thick, and suddenly Joyce metamorphosed into two faces instead of one. He blinked a few times. Shock, maybe, or delayed fatigue, he thought.
“Have you eaten anything?” Her voice sounded far away.
“No. Can’t.”
“Let me order you something.”
“No. Really. I’ll wait ’til we hear something about Dinah.”
Joyce reached under the table and took his hand. He let her. “She’ll be okay. They’ll find her.”
But Joyce didn’t know that. No one did. “It’s my fault.” He didn’t mean to speak, but somehow the words found their way out.
“What’s your fault?”
“That he found us. That he took her. I couldn’t protect Mom or Dinah.” His knee jiggled. “That’s my job, to protect both of them, and I couldn’t.”
Joyce produced a tissue from somewhere and handed it to him. “You can’t have known this would happen. I’m sure he was waiting for the right time,
when you weren’t there.” She ran one finger along his wrist, and loneliness, powerful as a tidal wave, swept over him.
“Let’s get some air.”
* * * * *
Summer stood in the doorway of the Pine Point Police Station. Nothing but shadows and streetlights. Even the sirens were silent. She felt wrung out, exhausted, as if the little life left in her this afternoon had vanished.
“Ah, there’s a statute of limitations on involuntary manslaughter,” the captain had explained to her a few minutes ago. “Plus, we can’t charge someone else with a crime when the first person’s already done time for it.”
Summer stared straight ahead and realized again the enormity of the sacrifice Gabe had made for her. She could do nothing else to repay him. Nothing to give him back the time he’d lost sitting in a jail cell for something he didn’t do. Strangely, the only relief lay in knowing that Pine Point finally knew the truth. Anyone who hadn’t watched the six o’clock news would catch the late-night recap in another hour. That person would tell someone down at the gas station, and those people would relate the tale at the beauty parlor or the frozen foods aisle or the hundred other places stories took root. Within a week, everyone living in a fifty-mile radius would know the truth.
She smiled. Knowing that lifted the burden from her shoulders and her heart. The truth, after all, would count for something.
“You okay?” Rachael stood at her elbow.
“Yeah. Thanks for being here.”
“I’ll come back with you,” Rachael offered. “We’ll buy ice cream and stay up all night like we used to. If you don’t want to be alone, or…”
Summer shook her head. The police had promised to watch the house, and Rachael couldn’t help her with the other pain she felt. This was nothing like the grief they’d nursed in grade school. Back then, a cold shoulder from a boy she liked or a rotten grade on a midterm exam warranted two spoons and a carton of chocolate-chip ice cream. Locked away in Rachael’s attic bedroom, they’d eat away the sadness until laughter replaced tears. Talking into the early morning, giggling at Cat and his pimple-cheeked friends, Summer had always emerged on the other side of sunrise with a refreshed heart.
Summer's Song: Pine Point, Book 1 Page 18