by Amy Isaman
She ignored me but she did have the decency to wait until I shut the car door before she backed out. Barely. We headed south, the opposite direction we needed to go to get back to Elk Creek.
“Where are we going?” I asked again.
She shook her head and kept driving. It was a short drive. Carly pulled up to an apartment building near the university. “You can come or not,” she said as she climbed out of the car.
I followed without asking any more questions. I’d know what we were doing here or who she wanted to see soon enough. A few minutes later we were on the 4th floor, waiting for a response to her sharp knock on an apartment door. A young man I didn’t recognize pulled the door open. He looked at Carly without any recognition.
“I need to see Logan,” Carly said, her tone demanding.
“Logan? My nephew Logan?” I hissed as the young man turned and shouted into the apartment for his roommate.
A look of surprise was quickly replaced by wariness when Logan saw the two of us outside his door. “Hey, Auntie Trish. Uh, Carly. Hi. I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Neither did we until a few minutes ago. We need to talk, Logan,” Carly snapped.
“I’ve got class here in a few minutes. We were just leaving.” As if on cue, Logan’s roommate came to the door and excused himself. Carly stepped back, so he could leave. He hurried down the hall, leaving the three of us awkwardly staring at each other.
“Perfect. We can talk alone. This won’t take long.”
Logan took a step back and waved us in the door. When I walked by, he looked at me questioningly and mouthed, “What’s going on?”
“Alex?” I whispered, as I shrugged and threw my hands in the air like the “I don’t know” emoji.
He shut his eyes and momentarily looked like he might get sick on me.
I followed Logan into the living room. His apartment looked nothing like any apartment I’d ever lived in during college, or even anything Laurel had. “Wow, this is a really nice place, Logan.”
“Yeah, my mom decorated it. I didn’t want her to, but she didn’t want us living in another shithole, like I lived in last year. Her words not mine.” He tried to smile, but the tension in the room was palpable.
“Weren’t you in the dorms?” I asked.
“That was my first year. Last year, some buddies and I found a house that probably should have been condemned. It was cheap but pretty awful. This year I moved into something new.”
“Logan, this isn’t a social visit. You can chat with your aunt another time.” Carly interrupted our chit-chat. She sat on the couch and pulled Alex’s phone from her purse.
Logan sat across from her in a chair and watched her warily. “You found his phone,” he stated. “Told you I didn’t have it. Do you believe me now?”
“I believe that, yeah. But I don’t believe that you don’t know anything about what happened to Alex. And I have proof. Right here. Proof that you lied. Tell me what the hell happened to my son, Logan.”
Logan glanced at me, his brows drawn together in confusion. “I… I don’t know anything else. He rolled the 4-wheeler. He was drunk.”
“Carly,” I said as calmly as I could, furious that Carly was putting both of us in this situation. There were much better ways to handle this, I was sure. But then again, I did whatever I needed to do to save my daughter when we were in London. If anyone understood desperate-mom-mode, it was me. And I was also feeling protective of my nephew. “It sounds like Logan told you what happened that afternoon already.”
She glared at me. “Yes, and this time I want to hear the truth.”
“Logan, were you with Alex when he crashed the 4-wheeler?” I asked.
“No,” he yelled. “I’ve told her that. I was at home. My parents were there.” He turned and glared at Carly. “You know this.”
“I know that’s what you’ve told me. I also know that your dad is a cop in a small town, a man nobody would question. Alex didn’t drink, but his blood alcohol level was high when they did the autopsy that I don’t even know how he managed to get the key into the four-wheeler much less make it five miles out of town before the accident. You know how much he hated Frank’s drinking. There’s no way he would have drank alone. I’m going to ask one more time—tell me the truth before I take this to the cops, and you can tell them exactly what happened.” She held up the phone.
“Fine, take it to the police. I have no idea what you found on there, but I didn’t have anything to do with Alex drinking that day or the accident.” Logan stood up. “He was my best friend. You think I killed him?” His hands shook as he yelled at Carly. “You can get the hell out of my house. And you too,” he added, glaring at me.
“I’m not going anywhere until I get the truth,” Carly said, crossing her arms and leaning back on the couch.
“Yes, you are,” I said. “We’re leaving. Now.” I grabbed Carly’s purse off the coffee table where she set it when she pulled Alex’s phone out. “I’m leaving. And if you don’t follow me, both Logan and I will be calling the police to have you removed. You have approximately five seconds to vacate this apartment.” I paused before the door and turned to my nephew. “I’m sorry Logan. I didn’t know that she was going to confront you like this. I didn’t even know whose apartment this was. I know that may sound lame, but it’s the truth.” I reached out to touch his arm. “I apologize.”
He didn’t respond, and I momentarily wondered if he’d ever speak to me again. I left and said a quick prayer that Carly would follow, and another prayer of gratitude when I heard her footsteps behind me, and Logan’s door slam shut.
As soon as we were out of the apartment building, I turned on her. “How dare you! He’s my nephew. You found an unsent text on Alex’s phone and you just assume that means that Logan got Alex drunk and put him on the 4-wheeler to drive and possibly crash? That makes zero sense. Did Alex not have any other friends? Or maybe, just maybe, Alex was drinking on his own. Teenagers do shit like that. And newsflash, they usually don’t tell their parents. In fact, every teen I’ve ever known, myself included, spends a pretty large amount of energy maintaining the ‘good kid’ status when it comes to their parents and hiding that stuff.”
“Give me my purse,” she demanded.
“So you can drive off and leave me here? Oh, hell no.” I unlocked her car and slid into the driver’s seat before unlocking the passenger door and letting her in. I started the car and headed toward home. Carly never uttered a word for the entire drive.
When I pulled out of her driveway in my mom’s car, she was still sitting in the passenger seat of her car, but she was no longer stony. Tears poured down her cheeks, which of course made them start pouring down mine, and my body began to shake. I’d held myself so stiff and still during the silent ride home. I felt for Carly. She’d lost a son and a husband, a somewhat estranged husband, but a husband no less. And she was searching for answers, someone to blame, someone to explain why all this shit was happening to her, but there was no one to blame, no one to explain it all. Sometimes bad stuff happened. That’s all. I didn’t believe it was past life karma or a vengeful God or punishment or that my thoughts created my reality which somehow included killing off those I loved most. It just happened. Because we were human.
And humans die.
Thank God, my mom kept not just little packets of tissues in her car, but a full-size box because by the time I drove onto her street, I was a sniveling wreck.
I audibly groaned when I saw Anne’s car in the driveway. I cleaned my face up as best as I could before walking into the house. I looked like a train wreck. My appearance merely matched my state of mind.
“Don’t you ever check your texts?” Anne demanded when I walked into the house.
“I’ve been driving for the last hour, so that would be a hard no.”
My mom sat in her giant chair and watched Anne warily. Mom had finally graduated from the hard wooden chair and upgraded back to her comfy and beloved Lazy Boy.
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“I wanted you to come to my house. We need to talk.”
“So… talk. But first, I need to go to the bathroom.” I fled down the hall where I could have a few minutes to regroup. It hadn’t even occurred to me that Logan would call his parents the second Carly and I left his apartment. I naively thought I’d go home and have a brainless late afternoon getting my mom her tea and watching the Ellen show while I did some research on the coins’ value. Because even if Carly never spoke to me again, I was still curious about the whole thing.
I splashed cold water on my face and sat on the edge of the tub to take a minute to regroup. All I could do was tell Anne the truth and hope that she believed me.
When I returned to the family room, my mom handed me a mug of tea before heading down the hall. “I’ll leave you two alone.” She squeezed my shoulder and slowly made her way out of the room.
“I’m guessing you talked to your son?” I asked.
“Of course. He’s upset. He has a mid-term this afternoon, and he’s a wreck. How could you?”
“First, let’s back up.” I filled Anne in on the entire day including the coins and Carly finding Alex’s phone. “She’s looking for anything. Her son died, and she wants to know why and how. I get it. It’s exactly how I felt about Bret. Had I found some sort of message that he was in trouble but it hadn’t sent, I would have responded in the same way. The guilt would be horrifying, and it’s gotta be much worse when you’re dealing with the death of a child.”
Anne nodded, but her body language hadn’t yet softened. She still sat on the edge of the couch, her back straight and her arms crossed in front of her.
I continued. “And honestly, Carly didn’t tell me where we were going. We went to the bank and then to get something to eat. When we left the restaurant, I thought we were going home until she pulled up to Logan’s apartment building. Even then, I didn’t know where we—”
The front door flew open, slamming into the wall. Anne yelped and jumped to her feet as her red-faced husband, Brian, charged into the room. “What the hell, Tricia?” he yelled.
I stayed in my cozy corner of mom’s L-shaped couch, refusing to be intimidated by him, though dressed in his full police officer regalia, gun on his hip, he was pretty damn intimidating. I turned to Anne. “You wanna fill him in?”
“No,” Brian barked. “You’re going to tell me what the hell you were doing with Carly, at my son’s apartment, making all kinds of accusations.” He moved closer until he loomed over me, his arms crossed, and legs spread wide, cornering me. So much for refusing to move or react in order to hold my ground. Now I just felt trapped. I knew he was a bit of a bully. He was that dad who got out of line at his kids sporting events, but he seemed to think that made him a good dad. It didn’t. It made him an overgrown ex-jock immature asshole.
“I’m waiting,” he said, his tone steely.
“Yeah. Me too,” I replied, trying to keep my voice nonchalant.
“What the hell are you waiting for?”
Spittle flew from his lips and landed on me. Lovely. But it was what I needed to get angry. I stood up, inches from his chest. “I’m waiting for you to back the hell up, get out of my space, and act like an adult.” He stood his ground. “Now,” I snapped.
“Brian, please,” Anne pleaded with him. She got up and reached for his arm. As soon as she touched him, he swung his arm back, knocking her onto the couch where she kept her eyes on him as she cowered.
He clenched his fists and continued to glare at me, but after shaking his head in disgust, he took a single step back. “Now talk.”
I scoffed. “Do not order me around, Brian.” My heart racing, I walked by him toward the kitchen, refusing to bend to his caveman behavior which Anne clearly did. Before he arrived, she sat tall and straight, furious with me, and now she looked like her spine had vanished. She went to him like a puppy that was in trouble, head down, shoulders slumped in.
“Brian, let’s just calm down.” She put her hand on his arm and flushed when he shrugged it off. And I finally got it. He hit her. I slammed my mug down on the counter in a fury. If I was right, what could she do? He was in law enforcement in a small town. Did they even have services for battered women here? And did I not know any of this?
But I also knew, to the core of my being, that no matter what I said right now, Anne would take the fall for it later. His anger would be my fault. My refusal to bend to his will and grovel enraged him even more, and since I was her sister, bam… my fault. I swallowed back a huge wave of nausea as it became clear. Of course, Anne resented me. She was stuck here, or at least in her mind she was. Who knew what he threatened to do to her or the kids if she ever left him? I wanted more than anything to tell Brian to eff-off and get the hell out of my mom’s house, but that probably would only make the next few days a living hell for my sister, unless I’d lost every intuitive cell in my body, which I knew I hadn’t.
We all turned as my mom shuffled back into the room. She leaned heavily on her cane and her voice sounded weary when she finally spoke. “Brian, it’s time for you to go.”
He scoffed. “Sorry for the yelling, Phyllis, but I’m not going anywhere until I find out what the hell Tricia was doing at my son’s apartment today.”
I leaned on the kitchen island and studied him. He hadn’t moved other than to turn to face me. A wave of pure disgust and hatred came over me, but I had to talk to him in order to get him out. What could we do? Call the local cop for help? He was standing right here.
“You spoke with Logan, then,” I stated.
He nodded.
“Then you know exactly what I was doing there. Carly found Alex’s phone in Frank’s stuff.” I wondered if Anne told him about the safe deposit box and me going with Carly, but I doubted it. “There was a text message on it that Alex wrote the afternoon that he died but it hadn’t sent. The message indicated that he thought he was in trouble and needed help. Logan was Alex’s best friend, and Carly wanted to talk to him about it and see what he knew. As I’ve said, I didn’t know whose apartment we were at until she asked for him. And I tried to get her out. Logan told her he was at home that day and didn’t know anything. That’s it. I got her out as quickly as I could. It was pretty obvious how shaken up Logan was.”
I watched Brian the entire time I spoke to see his reaction. Because honestly, I didn’t know what to believe. Everyone assumed that Alex had gotten drunk by himself, climbed on the 4-wheeler, and crashed it alone. But what if a friend like Logan been drinking with him before he went on his little joy ride? Why would he try to text his safe word if he was alone? Or, was someone else there who made him feel unsafe? Was Brian covering for his son? I honestly didn’t know. And then there was the final question that played at the edges of my mind all night, did any of this have anything to do with Frank’s death? Or the missing gold?
“Now you know why Tricia was at Logan’s. So, you can leave.” My mom pointed toward the door with her free hand.
Brian eyed all three of us, one at a time, an ugly grimace on his face, shook his head in disgust, and stalked toward the door before pausing and turning to his wife. “You better be home in ten minutes.”
I swear even the house exhaled with the three of us when the door slammed shut behind him.
As soon as it closed, Anne ran to the kitchen window and picked up her phone. “Madison,” she said, her voice shaky. “Are you at home?”
She paused. “Dad’s on his way home. He’s in one of his moods. You need to get to grandma’s. Before he gets there. Get in your car now. He’ll be there in five minutes.” Anne closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her temple. “I’ll stay on the phone with you. Just… hurry.”
Chapter 11
ANNE SET THE PHONE down and leaned on the counter.
“Do you want to go get her? I can go with you.”
“No, she knows what to do. She’s already on the way.” Anne glanced down at her phone, pressed a few buttons and studied the screen for a minute
before sliding it over to me. A little dot lit up on a map halfway between Anne’s house and my mom’s house.
“Is Madi that dot?”
My sister nodded. Madi would be here in a few minutes.
I had no words. Twenty years, monthly phone calls, yearly visits and I’d missed this completely. I thought life was rough as a widow and single mom. But my husband was my beloved soul mate. He never raised a hand to me, and I never felt fear for my own safety or my children’s safety when we were with him. Even when he was struggling with the depression and anxiety that ultimately took him, I never felt threatened by him.
Ever.
Anne lived in fear every damn day, and I never knew. And I didn’t know what to do now. I did know enough not to ask why she didn’t leave. If she felt like she could, she would have. I hoped. Anne stared out the kitchen window until she saw her daughter’s small economy car coming up the street. When Madi slowed and pulled to a stop, Anne ran outside to escort her daughter into the safety of the house.
I turned to my mom who now sat in her chair, an afghan thrown over her lap. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“Well, a few reasons. It’s not mine to tell, and your sister has done a damn good job of keeping it secret. I didn’t even know until a few years ago. I think that’s when it got bad. After the gold vanished, and your sister’s business started to slow. That’s when she went back to doing hair and why she works so many hours at the salon now. But she won’t tell me about their financial situation.”
“Why does she stay? I’m not going to ask her that, but do you know? Why doesn’t she think she can leave?”
“I have no idea. She could support herself. She’s bright and a hard worker. She could always stay here. The only thing I can figure is that he’s threatened her.”
“Would he hurt the kids? Does he?” I asked. He was a bully and an asshole, but I also knew that he loved his kids. Or at least that’s what I’d always thought.
“As far as I know, he’s never hit them, but who knows? Logan won’t come back to Elk Creek. He comes up with all kinds of reasons. Christmas his freshman year of college was the last time he spent any time here. If you ask me, I’d guess that Brian has laid into him a few times. I don’t know about Madi, though.”