by David Bell
A sound came over the line like Regan had placed her hand over the mouth of the phone. He heard muffled voices.
A man’s voice?
“Regan?” he asked. “Are you there?”
“I have to go, Jason.”
“Are you at work?”
“No. Not yet.”
“Where are you?”
“Bye, Jason.”
* * *
Jason expected Nora home after nine. Just after eight, a knocking came from the back of the house. Jason sat up straight on the couch, where he was trying to distract himself with a Reds game. They were playing in New York against the Mets, but nothing looked the way Jason remembered it. When he lived in the city, the Mets played at Shea, and so the sparkly new stadium reminded Jason of how far removed from that world he really was.
He muted the sound and walked through the house. The skin at the base of his neck felt pinched and tight. He pictured Rose Holland leaving poor little Pogo out there. And then an image of Jesse Dean slipped into his head—the feel of his hand against Jason’s throat, the sound of the threats.
Should he call the police just because someone knocked?
Jason almost wished it were Jesse Dean, that some news about Hayden would be delivered to his house, regardless of the messenger.
Jason pulled the back door open. Tricia stood there in her all-black clothes, a cigarette between two fingers of her left hand, her right arm across her chest. She looked like she practiced the pose in front of a mirror.
“Hey, man,” she said.
“What do you want?” Jason asked. “And why are you at the back door?”
“Whoa,” she said. “Mr. Hostility. Careful or you’ll stroke out one of these days.”
“Sierra isn’t here. She left with her dad.”
“I know that.” Tricia took a drag and let out a long plume of smoke. She was polite enough to mostly send it away from Jason’s face. “She texted me and told me.”
“When did she text you?” Jason asked.
“Yesterday. Day before. I don’t know.”
“Is that all she said?”
“Dude, can I come in the house? I want to talk to you.”
Jason examined the girl. Her eyes, inside the circle of heavy eyeliner, looked sincere, almost pleading. He pointed to the cigarette. “Put that out.”
Tricia leaned over and rubbed it against the side of the house, then tossed the butt into the yard. “Cool?” she said.
Jason stepped back and let her enter the kitchen. Tricia moved along the counters, stopping to pick up a couple of objects as she walked by. A piece of fruit, a bag of coffee. She seemed in no hurry.
“Do you want something to drink?” Jason asked, trying to be polite.
“What kind of beer do you have?”
“I’m not giving you beer. You’re seventeen.”
“Jesus. Uptight much.”
“What do you want, Tricia?”
The girl turned around and leaned back against the counter. She was rail thin and pale under the overhead lights. Jason wondered if she ever ate or if she just smoked instead.
“I know you’re looking for Jesse Dean.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know things. You think he killed your friend.”
“Did Sierra tell you that?” Jason asked.
Tricia’s foot bounced against the floor, the sole of her shoe making a squeaking noise against the tile. Her knee went up and down. She said, “Look, let me tell you something. I know Jesse Dean. I’ve partied with him. The guy’s an asshole. That’s why I’m here, okay? He fucked me over. He wanted me to do something for him, and then when I did it—or I tried to do it—he didn’t live up to his end of the bargain. You see? He screwed me over, so I’m here to give you the lowdown. You can do whatever you want with it.”
“What are you talking about? What did he want you to do for him?”
“It’s your fault,” Tricia said. “You stopped me. You and your wife.”
Jason couldn’t make sense of what she was saying, but the girl didn’t offer anything else right away. It slowly came together for Jason while Tricia continued to pump her leg.
“Sierra? He wanted something from Sierra?”
“Not something. Her. He wanted her. I was supposed to bring her to him the other night, but you stopped me.”
Chapter Forty-three
Jason raised his hands to his head and ran his fingers through his hair. He resisted the urge to grab hold and pull the roots right out of his scalp.
“What did he want Sierra for?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Tricia said. “Look, the guy approached me, okay? He knew Sierra and I were friends.”
“How did he know that?”
“I don’t know, but he did. He tracked me down. He came to my house. I live with my mom and her boyfriend. They don’t exactly care who my gentlemen callers are. But Jesse Dean showed up, and he tells me he’d like to party with me, so I did a little bit.”
“You went out with a strange guy?” Jason asked. He dropped his hands from his head and started pacing.
“He said he wanted to talk about my friend Sierra. Shit, I hadn’t seen her in a while, you know? But Jesse Dean said he knew Sierra, that he was an old family friend. And then he told me that he and I could party together. I know what that means. It’s like a code.”
“Sex?”
“Maybe sex. But drugs, man. He had some pot and some meth. I don’t use it that much, the meth, but I’m not going to turn it down if it’s free. Mom and her boyfriend were all over the house, playing kissy-face. I wanted to get out.”
“Did you give Sierra the weed that was upstairs?”
“I had to. My mom’s boyfriend steals mine. I figured you’d have a cow about that, but Sierra was just holding it for me. I lost all that stuff to the cops when they came here and searched. That’s why Jesse Dean’s offer was so appealing to me.”
“Where’s Sierra? Is she in danger?”
“Listen. So the dude takes me out and we get high and everything, and once we’re good and high, he says that he needs to see my friend Sierra. He told me that he’s friends with Sierra’s mom. Your sister. He didn’t say what he wanted from Sierra, but I got the feeling it had something to do with her mom. I’m not sure. He mentioned her a few times.”
“How long ago was this?”
“A few days. Right before I came here that night.” Her foot stopped pumping. “Jesse Dean said if I could bring Sierra to him, then he would give me some more meth and weed. In fact, he said he’d give it to me either way, as long as I tried. That’s when I came over here to hang with Sierra.”
“Didn’t it occur to you that you were putting Sierra in danger? The guy’s a criminal. He’s doing drugs.”
“He knew her mom. He said something to me, something that made me think he’d been hanging out with her recently. I don’t know. Trust me, it seemed safe.”
“Are you crazy?” Jason asked. “You should have called the police. Or told an adult.”
“Listen. I can take care of myself. I’m not a child. I don’t call an adult whenever there’s trouble of some kind. But when I came over here that night, you all wouldn’t let Sierra out of the house. I was going to take her to Jesse Dean right then.”
“Did you tell Sierra?”
“No. I told her I had some friends we could hang with. I figured you’d told her how dangerous Jesse Dean is, so if I mentioned his name, she’d freak out. She didn’t really want to go anywhere. She’s not much of a partyer.” Tricia crinkled her nose a little when she said that. “She would have gone, though. But you all blocked it. You wouldn’t let your precious little niece out of the house. So I went back to Jesse Dean and told him I tried and struck out. And then guess what he does?”
“Did he hurt
you?”
“The asshole doesn’t give me the stuff. He said he’d give it to me either way, but he didn’t. He said I failed, and he told me to get lost. That’s why I’m here now. I figure if he can’t play straight with me, then I’m not going to play straight with him. I’m going to rat him out to you. He can live with the consequences.”
Jason realized his hands were trembling slightly. He felt like he had little control over them. He stepped forward and pulled out one of the chairs and sat at the table. “Sierra’s dad showed up the next day, the day after you were here. He’s friends with Jesse Dean.”
“I didn’t see Sierra’s dad. I don’t know what he has to do with it.”
“And you never found out why Jesse Dean wanted Sierra?”
“He just acted like he wanted to talk to her,” she said. “You know, Jesse Dean didn’t really give off the creepy sex vibe to me. He’s a creep, but not that way. He didn’t give me that look that creepy guys give. I can feel when that’s happening.” She shivered. “He wanted something else from Sierra. I promise.”
Jason stared at the tabletop. He felt the weight of his actions pressing on his shoulders. He let Sierra go with Derrick. He handed her over. Derrick had to be working with Jesse Dean. Why else would he show up the day after Tricia had been sent to get Sierra? Derrick was Jesse Dean’s backup plan when Tricia couldn’t get Sierra out of the house.
“You keep acting like you knew how to find Jesse Dean. You said you went and saw him. Is this at his house?”
“No. He said his wife is staying there. No partying with her around.”
“Then where is he?”
“I don’t know where he is now. I met him in town once, and then the other time he took me to his little getaway.”
“Where was this?” Jason asked.
Tricia didn’t answer. She started pumping her foot again.
Jason stood up, pushing the chair back. “Where is he?”
“Do you know where Barnes Hollow is?” she asked.
“No. I’ve heard of it, but I don’t know where it is.”
“South of town.”
“I know it’s south of town, but I don’t know where exactly.”
Tricia shook her head. “Typical. You haven’t even bothered to get out of town.”
“Where is it?”
“It’s about ten miles south of here. You take County Road Three Hundred. People hunt there in the fall. They have cabins and things. People, kids mostly, go out there and party other times of year. It’s a lot of rednecks to be perfectly honest. That’s where Jesse Dean was hanging out. I assume he owns the place he was staying in.”
Jason walked across the room. “I’m calling the police.”
“Then I’m out of here.”
“You have to tell them what you know.”
“No, I don’t.” Tricia started for the back door, moving quickly. Jason moved faster and intercepted her. He reached out and grabbed her arm. “Ow.”
Jason felt his fingers dig into the soft flesh of the girl’s biceps. She looked up at him, her face a mixture of surprise and pain. But he didn’t let go.
“You have to,” he said. “Sierra could be hurt.”
“Get off of me.”
She squirmed, twisting her body to try to break Jason’s grip, but he didn’t let go.
“The police won’t bother you,” he said. “Just tell them how to get there.”
“Fuck you.”
Tricia delivered a solid kick to Jason’s shin. He jumped back but still held on. The pain shot up his leg, and he recognized the absurdity of his physical struggle with a seventeen-year-old girl. But he wouldn’t let go.
“Then tell me where it is,” he said. “Just tell me.”
“I don’t know the street names back in the Hollow,” she said, her squirming easing.
“Then show me. Just show me.”
“No.”
Jason loosened his grip but didn’t let go. He felt sweat forming on his forehead. His clothes felt tight and bunched.
“What do you want? Money? Is that it?”
Tricia looked at him, her eyes wide but the anger there easing. “I don’t want anything.”
“Fifty bucks,” Jason said. “A hundred bucks. Is that what you want?”
“Let go.”
He did. He released the girl and straightened up. She rubbed her arm with her opposite hand and pulled her shirt down and back into place. But she didn’t make a move for the door. She studied Jason, her mouth a thin line.
“A hundred dollars,” Jason said. “Cash. And I won’t back out like Jesse Dean. Here.” He reached around and brought out his wallet. “Here’s fifty to start. I’ll give you the other fifty when we get there. Okay?”
Tricia stared at the two twenties and a ten as if they were magic. It took her a long moment to make a move for them, but she reached out and grabbed the bills from Jason’s hand.
“You ready to get the other fifty?” he asked.
Tricia tucked the bills into her pants pocket. “How do you know I just won’t run as soon as we walk out the door? How do you know I won’t fuck you over?”
Jason leaned closer to the girl. “Because despite all evidence to the contrary, I think you’re worried about Sierra too. I don’t think you came here to screw Jesse Dean over. I think you came here to try to help Sierra. Right?”
Tricia didn’t answer.
“And because you want that other fifty dollars so you can buy more meth or pot or whatever it is that floats your boat. Right?”
“No cops,” she said. “I can’t get busted again.”
“I’ll call the cops after you show me. You can leave then if you want. Okay?”
“Can I smoke in the car?”
“Roll the window down.”
“Fine,” she said. “Let’s go. This conversation is getting really boring.”
Chapter Forty-four
They drove south into the darkening night. Jason gripped the wheel with both hands, his shoulders hunched slightly forward. He left the radio off and listened instead to the steady thump of the tires against the road. Tricia sat next to him in the dark, remaining silent for most of the trip. She didn’t speak until Jason started asking her questions.
“Aren’t you going to smoke?”
She shook her head. She sat low in her seat, her arms folded across her chest. After she shook her head, she lifted her hand and used one fingernail to dig at another on the opposite hand. She looked tiny and shrunken, so small and defenseless it might have made sense to have her ride in the back, like a child.
“Did you really just come to the house because you’re pissed at Jesse Dean?” Jason asked.
She shrugged, then shifted her weight. “I like Sierra. She’s the kind of friend my mom wishes I had more of. Smart, you know. A good kid.”
“I know,” Jason said.
He tried to think ahead to the cabin in the woods, the place where Sierra might be with Derrick and Jesse Dean. He couldn’t imagine what he would do when he arrived there, except hope that he found Sierra and brought her home. It was possible she was gone, and also possible that if she was there, she might not want to go anywhere with him. She might be perfectly content to stay with her father and Jesse Dean.
The tops of the trees grew over the road, making a canopy that blocked out the stars. They passed few cars going the other way. Once, a rabbit or a raccoon showed up in the cone of the headlights, its eyes a quick flash of red in the dark.
“Your turn’s coming up,” Tricia said.
“Where?”
The girl leaned forward, straining against the seat belt. She squinted.
“There,” she said, pointing.
Jason slowed, his foot shifting from the gas to the brake. As he flipped the turn signal on, he saw the weathered, wooden sign.
BARNES HOLLOW. The sign looked somewhat familiar to him. He’d passed it a time or two as a kid or a teenager but never understood what went on there. His father didn’t hunt. His friends partied at the Bluff if they partied anywhere. Barnes Hollow might as well have been in another state.
A narrow road cut through the trees. Jason slowed and turned on the brights. His tires crunched over the gravel, and the car jounced on the uneven ground. They hit a pothole, one Jason didn’t see coming, and the bump almost knocked his head against the roof.
“Jesus,” he said, slowing down more. He didn’t need a flat or a busted axle in the middle of the woods with Jesse Dean waiting nearby.
“The road sucks,” Tricia said. “It’s not big-city living.”
“Roads suck worse than this in most big cities.”
They approached a fork. Jason saw it coming and said, “Which way?”
Tricia hesitated. “Left, I think.”
“You think?”
“I was high.”
Jason went to the left. The tree cover started to thin. On the right, back from the road, Jason saw a cabin. It sat dark and apparently empty. Then farther on he saw another cabin and another on the opposite side of the road.
“Are we getting close?” Jason asked.
“Couple more turns.”
“How far in are we going?”
“Deeper.” Tricia pointed again. “There’s the next turn. Right.”
Jason took it, and then just a few hundred yards farther on, they came to another fork. Tricia pointed to the left, and they turned that way.
“Slow down a little more,” she said. “We’re getting close.”
The car eased almost to a crawl.
“Turn the lights off,” Tricia said.
Jason started to object, but then he followed her instructions. When he flipped them off, the only glow came from the dashboard, a neon green wash across their faces. Outside it looked like they’d driven into a cave or fallen off the edge of the world.
“Pull over here,” Tricia said.
Jason guided the car into the grass and weeds on the side of the road. When they were stopped, he turned the car off, dropping them into greater darkness.