She almost told Nathan that she still hated him sometimes but decided to keep that to herself.
“I still hate Lucy,” she said.
“I pity her. She was messed up.”
Emma wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her father’s jacket. She’d not realized she was crying.
“Nathan, do you remember Lucy’s mother’s funeral?”
“Beverly died when we were in the fourth grade. That was a long time ago.”
“But, you must remember it.”
Nathan remained silent for a long while. He kept his hands clutched in his lap when he finally spoke.
“I remember little things. I’ll never forget seeing my uncle Caleb cry. I didn’t think men did that. And little Lucy was so fierce in her grief. My mother had to hold her down to get her in that dress.”
“You looked so serious in your suit.”
“I had to read a poem in front of half the town.” He laughed. “I was scared shitless.”
“Lucy and I weren’t even close friends back then. Our mothers were always forcing us to do stuff together, but we didn’t get along.”
“She was a tomboy and you were a princess.” He held up her well-manicured hand. Her fingernails were long and painted pale pink. “Some things never change.”
“Everything changes.”
He intertwined her fingers with his one by one. “Anyway,” he said. “I always thought it was weird that she picked you out of the crowd that day.”
“At the church I gave her some candy to make her feel better. Next thing I know, I’m standing graveside at the heart of the Winfrey clan. At some point Lucy grabbed my hand.” Emma shook her head. “I didn’t realize what she was up to until she started running.”
“She tried to get me to come with her, but I wasn’t having any part of it.”
“It was the middle of March. We could have died from exposure.”
“But you didn’t. You got her back home safe and sound.”
“It wasn’t easy,” said Emma. “She fought me every step of the way. If I’d known that the next ten years would be more of the same I might have left her out there.”
“Half the town was out looking for you. Caleb had just lost Beverly. He was angry and worried all at once.”
“Lucy told me that she was running away to find her real father.”
“She was always throwing stuff like that in Caleb’s face. I don’t know why he put up with it.”
Emma shivered and Nathan noticed.
“Do you want to go in?” he asked. “You must be cold. It’s freezing out here.”
“I should try to sleep. I’ve been so wired since I got here.”
“I’ll keep you company,” he said. “Better than you sitting up all night by yourself.”
Their hands were still intertwined. His palms were heavily callused.
He kept his voice low. “Do you ever regret leaving?”
She pulled her hand away as she stood up.
“Emma?” he said.
“Sometimes, but it’s rare.”
Emma kept her father’s coat on even though the house was warm. She filled the kettle with water and switched on the burner.
“I’m making some tea. Do you want some?”
“Coffee would be nice.”
She opened the cupboard. “There’s only instant.”
“Coffee is coffee.”
“We could argue that point all night.”
“I’d rather not.”
She placed their mugs on the table and sat opposite him. “I’m surprised you haven’t settled down with someone yet.”
“It will happen eventually. What about you?”
“I’m not really interested,” she said.
“Don’t you want to have kids?”
“I’m not crazy about the idea.”
“Come on. Everyone wants kids.”
She was careful to enunciate every word. “Maybe I’m not everyone.”
He watched her from across the top of his coffee mug. “I suppose that’s possible.”
“My mother actually implied I was getting past my prime.”
“She’s probably worried because you’re on your own.”
Emma turned around. “How did you know that?”
“News trickles through. I also heard you had some sort of breakdown.”
“That’s a gross exaggeration. I went through a bad patch. Not quite the same thing.” She put her cup down, being careful to line it up with the flowered pattern on the tablecloth. “Three years and two cities later I’m cured.”
“You sure move around a lot.”
“When my company makes a new acquisition they send in a team to handle the transition.”
“So, you fire people.”
“I have to figure out how to make things work more efficiently. Generally speaking we try to keep people in their jobs.”
“We’re so different,” said Nathan. “It’s hard to believe we dated for three years.”
“If you want proof it’s all in my room. It’s a shrine to high school romance. There are pictures of us everywhere.”
He took hold of her hands again. “Emma, I was joking. I don’t need any proof.”
She made a real effort to look him in the eye. “I am sorry for how I went about things. I should have been straighter with you. The last year I was here was difficult.”
“I could tell you were just biding your time until you could leave again. I’m not going to lie. It hurt.”
“I thought things with Lucy would have calmed down a bit while I was away in England during our junior year, but it was worse when I got back. It felt as if I had to prove I was her friend over and over again.” Emma closed her eyes briefly. “She just kept raising the bar. It was like she was punishing me for going away. She couldn’t see past Walleye.”
“Lucy started partying a lot the year you were away. People were saying she was getting into some pretty freaky shit. Got so bad Caleb took away her car keys so she couldn’t go out.”
“That wouldn’t have stopped her. When Lucy wanted something she generally got it.”
“Apparently,” he said, raising his voice. “She wanted you.”
Emma looked down at her hands. He held them so tight it was starting to hurt. She kept her voice even.
“That stuff she wrote about me in her journal. I swear it never happened.”
“You needed to say that twelve years ago … it’s a little late now.”
For a long time neither of them spoke. Outside the world had slipped into shadow. Insects clung to the kitchen windows looking for light. A strong easterly blew through the orchard, stirring the fragrant cherry blossoms and rattling the little house.
“Nathan,” she said, noticing her whitening fingertips. “Could you please not hold on so tight? I’m starting to lose circulation.”
Nathan slid his hands into his pockets and watched as Emma gathered their cups.
“Is that all you’ve got to say for yourself?” he asked.
“I am sorry,” she stuttered. “A lot of things … I mean I should have handled things differently. I was young. If I could do it all over again, I would.”
Nathan pushed his chair back with such force it nearly toppled. “You never said a word when Caleb said all that stuff about you. You just took it.”
“That’s because I blamed myself. Lucy spoke to me the day she died. She begged me to come up to the house that same night.” Never taking her eyes off Nathan, she carefully placed the cups in the sink. “I took my time and she took her life.”
“You couldn’t have known that would happen.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “I knew she was capable.”
Nathan walked to the back door and stared out into the night.
“It was a long time ago. Maybe we should all try to move on.”
“What do you think I’ve been doing all these years?”
He placed his hand on the doorframe. “Running away isn’t the same
thing. You could have stayed and helped clean up the mess Lucy left behind. Everyone found out what was in her diary. I ended up looking like a fool.”
“You were at Lucy’s funeral. You saw what happened. And talk about not saying a word. You should have stuck up for me then and there, but you didn’t.”
“A funeral isn’t the time or the place for that sort of talk.” He stood over her. “I think you were looking for an excuse to leave for good and Caleb gave you one.”
“Your uncle humiliated me in front of the whole town and you make it sound like I had a choice.”
“There’s always a choice. You just made the wrong one.”
She turned away. “I’m going to bed. You can let yourself out.”
Nathan grabbed her by the arm and swung her around to face him.
“Don’t speak to me like that,” he said.
“Nathan,” she said, pulling away. “I’m not eighteen. I’m not going to put up with this shit.”
“You have no idea how much you hurt me.”
“Nathan, I understand you’re upset, but this isn’t the way to deal with it.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, holding his hands up in defeat. “I don’t understand what gets into me sometimes.”
“We were close for a long time. I know it’s hard to let go, but you have to. It isn’t healthy that you’re still hung up on what happened between us all those years ago.”
Nathan pulled her into a deep hug and pressed his lips to the top of her head. His words were muffled.
“I replay what happened at Lucy’s funeral in my head sometimes. I should have said something. Now it’s too late.”
“It may have always been too late,” she said, closing her eyes and letting him hold her.
Feeling more trapped than loved, Emma stood perfectly still. She feared he’d try to kiss her if she didn’t make a move soon. She didn’t know what she’d do if that happened. There was always doubt lingering inside her. She’d left him and Walleye far behind, but she couldn’t put her hand to her heart and swear she was happier for going. She felt so worn through with sadness that she couldn’t think straight. It would be easy to vanish into their past together, but she knew that she’d only end up leaving him all over again. Nathan hadn’t changed and neither had she. She could still string him along and he was still willing to follow her lead. He really had every right to hate her. She pulled away.
“Nathan,” she said. “You should go before we do something stupid.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, letting her go and walking away.
Emma listened to the front door shut softly in his wake.
“I guess you know where to find me now,” she said.
6
The director of the Flathead Valley opiate-addiction program led Macy into a small conference room where the center’s counselors had gathered to discuss the patients under their care. The east-facing windows were full of morning light and a coffee machine bubbled away in the corner. Julia Price was a heavyset woman with round cheeks and frizzy gray hair. She offered Macy a chair near the window.
“I’m sorry to interrupt the meeting,” Julia said to the room, gathering the folds of her flowing skirt and taking a seat at the head of the conference table. “Detective Macy Greeley has some news she needs to share with us.”
“Good morning,” said Macy. “I understand that Carla Spencer has been receiving treatment here for some time.”
A man with a slight frame and short-cropped hair held up his hand. “Carla Spencer is my patient.”
“Merle Hepworth?”
“Yes,” he said, his eyes shifting to his case files. Carla’s was on top. “I have an appointment with Carla later this morning. We were just discussing her progress. She missed group therapy this week.”
“Was that unusual?”
“She’s had perfect attendance thus far.”
“What did her therapy involve?”
“Weekly one-on-one sessions and group therapy. She is also required to attend four twelve-step Narcotics Anonymous meetings per week.”
Macy made a few notes. “Was she on methadone?”
Julia Price spoke again. “We find that buprenorphine is more effective for treating withdrawal symptoms. Patients can’t get their medication if they don’t attend their meetings.”
Macy pointed to the stacks of files in front of each counselor. “How many patients are treated here?”
“At the moment we’re maxed out at one hundred patients each. The wait time for a place in the program is up to three months. The good news is that we have funding to hire four more counselors so we’re expanding.”
Merle raised his hand again. “May I ask what this is all about?”
“I’m afraid that Carla Spencer and her husband, Lloyd, died from an apparent drug overdose early yesterday morning.”
“Painkillers?”
“We’re pretty sure it was heroin.”
Merle dropped Carla’s file on the table. “I really thought we were making progress.”
“We’re not ruling out foul play.”
“You think she was murdered?”
“We have reason to believe a third party was involved, but it still may have been accidental. The medical examiner should have more information by this afternoon. I need to know about the other patients who attended her group therapy sessions. We’ll be speaking to her twelve-step sponsor as well. At this point I just want to know if there was anyone Carla Spencer was friendly with. They may have insight into why this has happened.”
“I’m sorry,” said Merle. “These are my patients. I can’t give you their names without a court order.”
“Fair enough,” said Macy. “Don’t name names. Was there anyone in the group who worried you? They may have had previous convictions. They may have also missed sessions in the past couple of weeks.”
He nodded. “I’ve got a name in mind.”
Julia Price picked her way through the stack of files in front of Merle.
“Joel Edwards,” she said, holding the file up in the air. “He’s just been kicked out of the program for violating parole. He failed to check in with his case officer two weeks running.”
Merle sat back in his chair. “How come I wasn’t notified?”
“I only received the e-mail a few minutes ago.”
Macy wrote down his name. “What’s the story on Joel Edwards?”
Merle scratched his neck. “He attempted to rob a doctor at gunpoint when he was off his head on a cocktail of Oxy and Xanax. After serving his sentence he started using again. When he was arrested on a possession charge the courts said it was the drug treatment program or prison.”
“Did you notice if he and Carla were close?”
“Yes, they were pretty tight. I know they went for coffee a few times after the sessions. He was struggling, but I got the impression Carla was really pulling for him. She seemed to be completely focused on her recovery, which makes her death even more upsetting. She was on buprenorphine. She shouldn’t have been craving.”
“But she missed a session.”
“She called to apologize so I arranged for her to pick up some at the pharmacy.”
“Is it common practice to prescribe such strong medication without seeing the patient?”
Julia Price answered. “We have patients who travel more than two hours each way to reach this center. Cars break down. Medicaid vans don’t show up. We can’t punish a patient unduly when they have a legitimate excuse for missing a meeting.”
“What was Carla’s excuse?”
Merle looked at her file. “Her husband and son had a physical altercation. She didn’t feel it was safe to leave them alone together in the house. Her attendance had been perfect up to that point so I gave her the benefit of the doubt.”
“Did she talk about her husband in her therapy sessions?” asked Macy.
“She wanted to leave him but didn’t see how she’d ever manage. I got the impression she was scared of
him. He was still using, which made her recovery particularly challenging.”
“Is it common for addicts to move from painkillers to heroin?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” said Julia. “As both are opiate based it’s a natural progression and now that prescription painkillers are becoming more difficult to obtain it’s becoming a real problem. Heroin used to be the type of drug you only found in urban areas, but now it’s in the suburbs, our schools, and in rural communities. It’s cheaper but far more dangerous. The plus side of prescription painkillers is that you know exactly what dosage you’re getting.”
Macy started gathering her things. “You’ve been incredibly helpful. I wish I could have brought you better news.”
Julia walked Macy to the door. “We’ve had to develop some pretty thick skin working in this business. Thankfully, we’ve had quite a few success stories recently, so I would like to think that we’re finally turning a corner.”
Macy shook her hand. “Thank you for all the work you’re doing here. I’m sure it’s making a difference.”
* * *
As she made her way back to the police station Macy peered in the window of a children’s toy shop on Main Street, making a note to stop in when they were open to pick up something for Luke. She’d been wondering how her son would feel about spending more time in the Flathead Valley. Aiden had invited them to stay for a couple of weeks over the summer. Macy had made a point of explaining exactly what having a two-and-a-half-year-old living in the house would mean. Luke couldn’t be left on his own. They wouldn’t be able to go to Murphy’s Tavern until two in the morning. They’d also have to forgo mountain biking, rock climbing, and sleeping in. Aiden had said he didn’t mind, but Macy wasn’t convinced he was ready for fatherhood, temporary or otherwise. With the exception of his job, which he took very seriously, Aiden seemed to move through life with very few constraints. The truth was she didn’t really understand why Aiden was so prepared to give up freedoms she sometimes wished she still had. Luke may have been three hundred miles away and well cared for, but Macy never lost sight of the fact she was his mother. It colored every decision she made. She worried constantly that she wasn’t good enough so she overcompensated. At the moment Luke came first and her job came second. She wondered how Aiden would feel about third place.
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