“Have you been here all this time?” she asked the girl.
Sadie nodded. Her eyes were puffy and red, but dry. She’d probably cried herself out by now. “I didn’t want to go home. And Sam needs some space right now, so…”
“And you need the opposite. One of the many differences between men and women. When bad things happen, we want someone to hug, to talk to, to comfort and be comforted by, to cry with. They want to lock themselves in a dark room and work it through inside themselves.”
“I thought it was just him.”
“No, it’s pretty universal, from what I’ve seen. Not that I’m the voice of experience or anything. Still, I hate to think of you sitting here alone all this time. It’s been what, four hours?” She looked at her watch.
“I went for a long walk, stopped at the library for a while, cried a lot.” She lowered her head. “I thought Sam would call sooner or later.”
“He hasn’t called me, either. But Gabe did. Left a message on my cell. I got it as soon as we got back within signal range. He took Sam to the cabin he’s renting. Says Sam’s been sitting on the deck looking at the lake and not saying a word. Gabe’s been staying out of his way.”
“He’s nice. Gabe, I mean.”
Carrie nodded. “I think he really is.”
“So do you think it’s okay if we go out there now?”
“I think we have to do whatever we have to do to get through this, just like Sam is. If that means going out there, then we’re going. And frankly, I think I need to hug my son right now about as badly as you probably do.”
Sadie blinked. “Don’t you have to go to the hospital? To…you know.”
“Nope.”
“But…?”
“I’ll explain on the way. Come on, let’s go.”
Sadie rose to her feet and picked up the stack of library books that were sitting beside her. They were all about the grieving process, one specifically aimed at the survivors of those who die young. Carrie wondered if they would help and supposed they couldn’t hurt. Sadie had made good use of her time alone, at least.
“You know, no matter what the shrinks tell you, everybody grieves in their own way,” she told the girl. “You have to give yourself permission to do that.”
“Oh, I didn’t get the books for me. I just thought…maybe I could help Sam through it if I understood a little more.”
Carrie frowned. “I hope my son knows what a special young woman you are.”
Sadie smiled, but her heart wasn’t in it. “I try to remind him on a regular basis.”
Taking her hand and pulling her to her feet, Carrie hugged the girl gently, stroking her hair as Sadie’s head rested on her shoulder.
After a long moment, they walked arm in arm to Carrie’s car and got in.
The cabin Gabe had rented was as beautiful and isolated as it was notorious, its previous owner having been a serial killer who’d died before the state had a chance to try him. Now it was in the hands of a gaggle of lawyers while various civil suits worked their way through the courts. In the meantime it was rented out, the money going to upkeep and taxes, which was lucky for Gabe. He thought the place was incredible, and it didn’t have any creep factor at all—not for him, anyway.
He had to admit that the day had messed with his emotions. Seeing Sam so devastated had shaken him almost as much as seeing that other poor boy’s body in the woods had done. A boy who could have been his own.
Okay, he admitted he didn’t have any reason to think Kyle had been Livvy’s missing baby. Just a birthdate that fit the right timeline. And yet, it was possible. And it twisted his gut into knots to think he might have missed the chance to know his son.
Besides, the death of any sixteen-year-old—blood relative or not—was cause to grieve.
But a lot of Gabe’s angst seemed to fall away when he heard a car in the driveway and looked out the window to see that it was Carrie. It felt as if the two-ton weight that had been on his shoulders throughout most of this day suddenly began to dissolve at the sight of her.
He didn’t allow a lot of stress in his life. Didn’t tolerate bad feelings. And he knew a lot of methods for getting rid of them on those rare occasions when they showed up. Long walks and gazing out at natural beauty usually did it for him. This, though—this bit about bad feelings melting away at the sight of another human being—was a new experience entirely.
Then again, it was also very similar. Natural beauty was natural beauty, after all.
Carrie got out of her car, and he saw that Sadie was with her. Good. It was about time for Sam to let someone in. He walked through to the kitchen, opened the back door onto the deck. Sam sat there, staring down at the lake, dead silent, just as he’d been all afternoon.
“Your mom and Sadie are here, Sam.”
Sam sighed. “I need more time.”
“I get that. And I’m not telling you what to do. But when you care about people, sometimes you need to give a little thought to what they need. And I think they need you right now.”
He lifted his head, met Gabe’s eyes and blinked. “Sadie’s probably been alone all day.”
“Probably.”
“I’m an idiot.”
“You’re sixteen.”
Sam reached up a hand. Gabe took it and pulled the younger man to his feet. Then they went back through the house, entering the living room together just as the front door opened and the two women walked in.
Sam opened his arms, and Sadie rushed into them. They held each other hard, and Gabe thought they were both crying again. He turned from the couple to Carrie. She looked exhausted.
“I don’t know what you need,” he said softly. “But if you tell me, you’ve got it.”
She looked at the kids and then back at him. “That,” she said.
She didn’t have to say it twice. Gabe moved closer and folded her into his arms. Hers wrapped around his waist, her head beneath his chin. And he didn’t know about her, but it felt like relief to him. God, it felt…like relief where none should have been possible.
He held her for a long time and hoped it felt as healing to her as it did to him. Finally, she lifted her head. “Thank you. I needed that.”
“I did, too.” He put a casual arm around her shoulders. “I’m making dinner. Care to keep me company in the kitchen while I finish up?”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“People need to eat.”
“It’s very much appreciated.”
“Don’t be so sure until you taste it.” Gabe walked with Carrie into the kitchen, leaving Sam and Sadie to talk. “He’s going to have a hundred questions.”
“And I won’t be able to answer most of them. I have more questions than I did before you two left, to be honest.”
“Why?”
She swallowed hard. “Kyle’s clothes were clean. He was clean. In the woods six days, and as clean as if he’d just showered this morning. Dead only a matter of hours. Way too close to town to be lost. And…”
“And?”
She looked into his eyes. “I don’t know why I trust you, Gabe, but I do. I need you to keep this to yourself for now, all right?”
She trusted him. He heard that and almost winced. He was keeping a huge secret from her. That was a mistake, and one he needed to correct at the first opportunity. But now was not the time.
“I promise I won’t breathe a word. Ever, if necessary.”
“Okay.” She drew a breath, glanced into the next room to be sure Sam and Sadie were still out of earshot, and said, “Gabe, there were needle tracks in Kyle’s arms. Several of them.”
“You think he OD’d?”
“I don’t know. I mean, that’s what it looks like, but it makes no sense. I’m a doctor. I was around that kid all the time, and I never saw any sign that he was using.” She shook her head. “How could I have missed it?”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself. Wait until the autopsy is done.”
“Yeah, if I can even get ac
cess to the results.”
“What do you mean? I thought you were the M.E. around here.”
“I am, but this just became a State Police investigation. They’re bringing in their own forensic pathologist, and frankly, I think that might be for the best. They have expertise and experience I can’t match.”
“But they couldn’t possibly care more,” Gabe said. “Still, I can’t help but think you’re right. It’s for the best. For you, anyway.”
She lifted her eyes to meet his. “If I had to make a Y-incision in the body of my son’s best friend, I seriously doubt I’d ever stop having nightmares. But I’m a doctor. I should be able to put my personal feelings aside.”
“You’re a human being.” He looked at her and got lost in her eyes. “You’re a beautiful, caring, feeling human being. And one of the most devoted mothers I’ve ever met.”
Her brows rose, and she looked at him.
“I mean that. Sam…Sam’s lucky to have you.”
“Sam is my miracle, Gabe. He’s my miracle, and I’m the lucky one.”
“Voilà!” Gabe said as he carried the food out to the deck and set it down on the patio table with a grand flourish. “Chicken nuggets and curly fries.”
Sadie sent him a look. “You want us to eat that stuff, or should we put it out for bear bait?” It was one of several attempts she had made to lighten the dire mood. Most had been met with stony silence by Sam, but Carrie and Gabe tried to play along.
“Keep that up and I’ll put you out for bear bait,” Gabe told her.
Sadie faked a smile. “Well, then, I guess I’ll force myself.”
“No worries, Sadie.” Carrie plunked the large bowl she was carrying onto the table, as well. “I insisted on making a salad to go with, so we women wouldn’t be forced to indulge in the junk food.”
Sam looked up. “Don’t let them fool you, Gabe. They love junk food.”
It was the first time he’d taken part in any of their conversation, and Carrie went almost limp in relief. She suspected it was doing him a world of good, sitting out here. Though he seemed to be brooding, mourning in silence, he was surrounded by towering pines and blue, blue sky above, turning slowly into purple twilight now. In the distance, a serene lake, as still and silent as the sky, seemed to absorb pain and reflect back healing. And the roar of the falls, not far away, could be heard in the distance.
Sam sat up straighter in his chair and reached for the nuggets, then the honey-mustard sauce, putting some of both on his plate. Then he added a much smaller than normal portion of the fries and proceeded to drown them in ketchup. Finally he looked up at Carrie, who quickly shifted her eyes elsewhere.
“You can stop pretending not to be noticing how much I’m eating,” he told her. “I know your brain is calculating the nutritional value of every crumb on this plate.”
She smiled. “I gave up on counting up nutritional values long ago, when I realized that kids are somehow gifted with the supernatural ability to extract exactly what they need from whatever refuse they devour. I ought to propose a study to prove it.”
“That would make you famous,” Gabe said. “But it wouldn’t take a study to convince me.”
“Or anyone else,” she replied. “I mean, if it wasn’t true, they wouldn’t live to see twenty-one.” She closed her eyes as soon as the words were out. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry. That was an idiotic thing to say.”
Sadie dropped her fork, and it clattered to her plate. She was staring at Carrie with huge eyes. “I never heard you swear before.”
“I’ve never been this lousy a mother before.” Carrie looked across the table at Sam. “I’m at a loss. I just don’t know how to make this better for you, and I feel like I’m supposed to. I’m sorry.”
Sighing, Sam reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “It’s okay, Mom. I’m gonna be all right. I mean, I’m gonna feel like crap for a while, but I’ll get through it. And really, it’s no one else’s job to make me feel better. Not even yours. It’s mine. And I’ve got this. I promise.”
His eyes shifted to Gabe’s very briefly, and Carrie saw the nearly imperceptible nod that was Gabe’s response. She’d always thought Sam was exceedingly mature for his age, but this was above and beyond. She suspected it was Gabe’s influence taking root in the fertile soil of Sam’s sharp mind.
“I wasn’t going to bring it up,” Sam said, and he spoke slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “But it’s what we’re all thinking about, anyway. Mom, when will you know what happened to Kyle?”
She really didn’t want to discuss the autopsy with Sam. She didn’t think he needed that kind of image on his mind. All she said was, “I don’t know.”
“Well, aren’t you—you know—?”
“No, hon, I’m not. The State Police have their own doctor for that. He—or she—will be in town tonight and take a look at Kyle in the morning.”
“But they’ll let you be there. I mean, it’s your hospital and your job. They can’t deny you access, can they?”
She smiled at his innocence. “They can do pretty much whatever they want, Sam.”
“It’s just…this isn’t dinner conversation. Sorry.”
Gabe said, “The subject is sitting here like an elephant on the table, Sam. Pretending it’s not isn’t going to make it go away.”
Sam nodded. “I just want to know what happened to him, that’s all. I mean, he didn’t look like there was anything wrong with him.”
“I’ve been wondering that, too,” Sadie said softly. “I mean, how many things could kill a guy his age without leaving a mark on him?”
They both looked to Carrie, expecting her to be the one to give them the answers they so desperately wanted—and probably just as desperately needed. She met Gabe’s eyes briefly and took a sip of water to give herself time to gather her thoughts. “There are a few things that come to mind. He may have had a condition that was never diagnosed, I suppose. A heart issue or diabetes, or even asthma or a severe allergy we didn’t know about. He might have taken a minor fall and hit his head in a place not immediately obvious, maybe suffered an internal bleed afterward. He might have…taken something. Something he thought would be harmless that turned out to be—”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute.” Sam held up a hand and stared at her as if she’d grown another head. “You’re talking about drugs, aren’t you?”
“You asked what could cause death without leaving a mark. I’m just telling you—drugs are one of the leading causes of death among teens his age.”
“Not Kyle,” Sam said, and he said it with conviction. “No way, not ever.”
“Then it was something else. But I’m confident whatever caused Kyle’s death, the state’s doctor will find out.”
Sam took a long breath, blew it out slowly, and finally nodded. “I’d just feel better if you were doing it.”
“But how would she feel, Sam?” Gabe asked.
Sam looked up, met his mother’s eyes and then lowered his head. “I’m sorry. You’re right, that would be too much. I just—” He looked at Gabe. “She’s good at her job. She’s really good.”
Carrie blinked rapidly and felt her heart go soft. “I’ve never heard you say that before.”
“I figured you knew,” he said.
“I know I’m a competent doctor. I just didn’t know you knew it.”
“I’ve always known it, Mom. And you’re way beyond competent.” He looked at Gabe. “It’s no bull—she’s amazing.”
“Stop it already.” Carrie was going to burst into mom-tears if he didn’t stop praising her. “Eat your dinner.”
He ate a nugget, but he looked as if he was forcing himself to eat sawdust. Then he said, “When do you think they’ll have the funeral?”
“That will depend on…well, a lot of other things, hon,” she said. “Right now it’s impossible to say.”
“What are you going to do about the camping trip you guys have been planning?” Sadie asked him.
He shook his head. “I’ll talk to the guys. I really doubt anyone’s going to feel like going. Not without Kyle.”
“But you’ve been talking about it for so long,” Sadie said. “I think Kyle would have wanted you to go.”
“I don’t know.” Sam swallowed hard, then looked across the table. “What do you think, Gabe?”
Gabe put his napkin down, leaned back in his chair. “It’s probably too soon to decide. Give yourselves time to process everything first.”
“Yeah. That makes sense, I guess,” Sam said. But he didn’t look satisfied.
Carrie saw Gabe noticing that, too, and then he spoke again.
“I was in a similar situation once. I was older than you, but a few friends and I were planning to hike down the Grand Canyon. One of them, Ronny Dean, died just before we were supposed to go. Heart attack. No one saw it coming.”
“So what did you do?” Sam asked.
“Well, just like you, we were torn. We were grieving, you know, but yet we thought he would have wanted us to go. So we made it a trip in his honor. We told stories about him all weekend long. And it…it helped. I mean, at first, we had trouble getting the words out, but by Sunday, we were remembering some of the wild things we did and laughing. Actually laughing.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. We drank a toast to him before we broke camp. And I gotta tell you, it felt like he was right there with us.”
Sam nodded slowly. Then again, a little harder. “Thanks, Gabe. When things calm down a little, I’m going to run that past the guys, see what they think.”
“You’re welcome. Now why don’t you take your girlfriend for a walk down by the lake while your mom and I clean this mess up?”
“You guys cooked. We can clean up,” Sadie said.
“No.” Gabe pointed toward the water. “Go on. Nature…heals. Go on.”
“All right, but not for long.” Sadie looked at her watch. “I have cheer practice tonight, and they won’t cancel, not even with this. We have a tournament next week.”
“I’ll drive you back whenever you’re ready, Sadie,” Carrie told her.
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