“John said you’d done a little searching on your own. What have you done?”
My efforts seemed pretty pathetic now. “I put up missing-guy posters, ran an ad locally, checked a few car and mailbox rentals, snooped through his drawers and computer files.”
“And found…?”
“Nothing. No dirty pictures, no leather underwear, no secret life. Even the computer folders were cleaned up. There was nothing except a hint that he was interested in taking up skydiving. What will you do to find him?”
“Pretty much what you’ve been doing, but I’ll use a wider net. I’ll make a lot of phone calls and fax out a lot of pictures. I’ll contact motor vehicle departments and I’ll buy lots of mailing lists to look for new subscribers fitting his profile. If he’s alive I’ll find him, and chances are I’ll never leave my office.”
“Never?”
“Well, I’ll go home at night and play wife and grandmother. Do you have a picture of your brother?”
I handed her the flyer and Jace’s morphed photo. “Before and after shaving. The flyer photo is real. The other one was done on a computer to show what he’d look like without a beard. A friend did it for me. I think it’s probably pretty good.”
“It’s wonderful. Could be very helpful. Now, I need one more thing from you.”
“Yes?”
“Tell me everything about yourself and Scott and your parents.”
“But that’s another reason I want to find him. I don’t know everything. At times, I feel like I don’t know anything at all.”
CHAPTER 19
“Three thousand bucks?” Kady dropped her spoon and stared. “They’re letting you spend that much money on a detective?”
“She prefers to be called an investigator. You have yogurt on your chin.”
“And my mother agreed to this?”
“Yup. There’s a time limit and a money limit, but she and John agreed. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.”
“Stuff about being your guardian she thinks is confidential. I had no idea. Three thousand. I’ve been going to every civic group in the county begging on my knees for scholarship money and you’re spending three grand to find a corpse. Why don’t you just burn it? Or give it away to one of these jerks.” She lifted her arm and motioned behind her, where most of the cafeteria population was looking in our direction.
Cody saw me, sneered, bit down on a sandwich.
“Most everyone in this room would blow it on a party,” I said.
“Three thousand,” she whispered. Stunned.
*
We had a sixth-hour pep fest to kick off the start of hockey playoffs. The Penokee Panthers went 9-12 during the regular season, but they’d won their last eight straight and the gym was raucous with hopeful fans. Kady was student council president and usually led the pep talks, but today she turned it over to one of the players and took a chair onstage by the team. While he gave a funny talk about Penokee’s hockey tradition, she looked over the audience until she found me. She stared.
I waved and made a face. She didn’t respond, didn’t even look away. Easy to read her mind: Three thousand bucks.
We were dismissed from the assembly and I went straight to the library for study hall. I was nearly caught up on missing assignments and had even started reading history again. More accurately, I was reading it for the first time. Maybe, just maybe, if I was caught up and promised to be a good girl, Ms. Penny would let me rejoin her class and I could avoid summer school, an earthly form of hell if there ever was one.
I was hunched over a table with eyes glued to a text when Kady entered the library, paused by my table, then went to one of the computers. I watched as she logged on to the Internet server and started typing. After a couple of minutes I got bored and returned to the fascinating facts about royal marriage patterns in nineteenth-century Europe.
I was packing my bag when the bell rang. Kady stood at the printer, waiting as it churned out a few pages. She placed them in a folder and put that into her backpack.
“Want a ride home?” It was routine, of course, but I needed a safe subject for conversation.
“Thanks. Jean said to tell you she’s staying late. Editorial deadline. I need to go to my locker. Meet you at the car.”
Routine, again. But there was nothing ordinary about the papers she handed me as she got out when we reached my house. “What’s this?” I asked.
“Just some stuff I found in the U medical library.”
I frowned. We had full access to all University of Wisconsin libraries through school, but the medical library?
“At the risk of ruining our friendship, I’ve decided that I have to be the one who gets you to face facts.”
“Facts?”
She wiped snow off the roof of the car with her coat sleeve. “Scott’s dead.” She nodded toward the folder I was holding. “That’s what the investigator should be looking for. That’s what he looks like.” She turned and crossed the street toward home.
I closed the garage door and went in the house. I laid the folder on the kitchen counter and turned on the lights. I nudged up the temp on the thermostat and hung up my coat. I made a sandwich and poured some milk. I opened the folder, looked at the top sheet, and nearly lost all the food from a lifetime of overeating.
Dead bodies. My dear old friend, sweet responsible Kady, had searched the libraries of the university system until she had found a book full of pictures of dead bodies. A medical pathology text, three pages from chapter seven, “Drowning and the Body.”
Bloated corpses, white waxy skin, empty eye sockets, missing parts.
I called the Drummonds, tapping the numbers in so fast I got a wrong number. Tried again. She answered. “Obviously, I’m not the one who needs help,” I said. “Did you have fun looking for these?”
“I just think—”
“I know what you think and I don’t care. I’m doing what I want to do, so all you have to do is shut up and cope with it. If you don’t, we just won’t be friends.” I hung up before she could respond to my threat. I crumpled the pictures and pitched them into the sink. My GPA, my business, Jace. Now I could chalk up one more loss to Scott’s little adventure: a best friend.
CHAPTER 20
“Arden, will you be my best friend?”
“I’m a little old for you.”
Hannah spooned heated fudge topping over her bowl of ice cream. “That would only matter if you were my lover.”
I sputtered, shooting drops of pop over the table.
“Hey!” she said, grabbing a handful of napkins, then handing them to me. “Clean it up.”
What had I been like at age six? Was I saucy? Quiet? Could I read? Had I known the meaning of the word lover?
Hannah was sleeping over. My idea, and three hours into the experiment, it was working out just fine. We’d watched one movie, made and eaten a large sausage and onion pizza, and fixed dessert, and were about to watch the second of our three videos, Meet Me in St. Louis.
We were probably the only people in town that particular Friday night. The Panthers, after their mediocre season, had made it into the state hockey tourney. Even the Drummonds, school supporters but hardly hockey fans, had traveled to Madison for the tournament.
“First and probably the only time,” Jean had said. “You’ve got to come with us.”
“Alone again?” Mrs. Drummond frowned.
“You can look over the university campus,” said Mr. D. “We’ll check out the art department”
Kady said nothing. She and I had kept a cool distance since the day last week when she’d dumped the pictures on me. She waited, probably anticipating that her family would change its plans to accommodate my wishes.
“I’ve offered to take Hannah for the weekend,” I said, thinking fast “Claire needs the break.”
True enough, though I’d only thought about making the offer and hadn’t actually done so.
“A six-year-old?” asked Jean. “Weird.”
&nbs
p; “How kind,” said Mrs. Drummond.
“Bring her along,” said Mr. D., probably hoping I wouldn’t.
“Suit yourself,” said Kady.
It suited me fine to be spending the weekend with a kid instead of cheering on the hometown team in the state’s favorite blood sport. Lately I’d felt like I’d all but disappeared from high school. Oh, I showed up daily and I was even doing the best work in years. But that afternoon as I sat through the second pep fest in two weeks, I realized that the appeal of high-school life eluded me. The games, the rah-rah convocations, the raucous playfulness in the cafeteria—what a waste. More often than not I’d sit alone in the lunchroom, looking at the kids I’d known since first grade and wondering, Who are these people?
Yup, Hannah was plenty good company.
She added still more topping to her ice cream. I frowned. “You’ve used five different spoons so far.”
“You don’t want me to use them again after I licked. You said so. Should we get our pajamas on before we watch the movie?”
“Okay.”
“I’ve got new ones. Mom made them.”
“She sews?”
“Of course. They have baseballs and gloves on them. I get to stay the whole weekend, right?”
“Right.” Which would mean about three more trips to the video store and at least one more run for groceries. I’d seriously underestimated the appetite of the child.
“If I don’t have to go home until Sunday, can we go to the Mall of America tomorrow?”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
Why indeed? After all, I’d driven to Canada on a whim. “I made a promise to someone that I wouldn’t go anywhere without asking her. She’s out of town until Sunday.”
Hannah set down her spoon. “You have your own car and your own house and you need permission?”
“Yes.” She shook her head sorrowfully, and together, as we ate our sundaes, we contemplated the injustice.
*
I got permission.
“What a wonderful idea!” Mrs. Drummond said. “And how lovely that you and Hannah are getting so close.”
“She’s an okay kid,” I said. “May I have more of that pot roast?” Mr. Drummond handed the platter to me, passing it right across Kady, who didn’t seem to notice the beef under her nose.
“Anyone want to come along?” I looked right at her. “Please?”
“Not me,” said Jean, sitting across the table. “I intend to do some serious sleeping this weekend. Besides, I hate the place. Crass commercialism, the worst of America all under one roof. Noisy, expensive, crowded, artificial. Should I go on?”
“No, thanks,” Kady said. “To both of you.” She rose. “I set the table. Someone else can clean up.” She left the room without having said a direct word to me the whole meal.
Well, I’d tried.
CHAPTER 21
I was pink-slipped in algebra again, “Not another session with the shrink,” I muttered.
“I’ve been so good and obedient, Mrs. Rutledge,” I blurted as soon as I entered her office. “I haven’t put up a flyer in a couple of weeks, I haven’t sneaked into Duluth, and I only call the detective every other day.” Of course, I’d sabotaged a budding romance and a lifelong friendship, but she didn’t have to know all that. She motioned me to a chair and closed the door.
Closed door, grim counselor. This was bad. “What’s up?” I asked.
“Al Walker called me. He and John Abrahms are on their way to— Oh, Arden, he asked me to pull you out of class and tell you personally. Some men were fishing close to where the Gogebic runs into Lake Superior. With all this warm weather we’ve had the past few days, the river is running hard, even under the ice cover.”
“What are you saying? Where have John and Al gone?”
She twisted the rings on her left hand. “County morgue in Ashland. The fishermen found a body in the water.”
*
She called Kady and Jean out of their classes to take me home. Jean shouldered my book bag and Kady handed me my jacket after removing the car keys from a pocket. “I’ll drive,” she said.
She not only drove but guided me out of the car and into her kitchen, made me tea, called her mother and father with the news, put together a plate of nutritious munchies, and left a message for Al at the police station that I could be reached at her house. Not once did she say, “I told you so.”
The three of us sat together on the long davenport and waited for something. Kady on my right, Jean on the left, both turned toward me. I faced the wall across the room, looking at their family pictures, all arranged in a circle around a large photo of Mr. and Mrs. D. on their wedding day. Jean reached under a cushion and pulled out three beanbags; they had practice gear stashed in every room. She tossed them a few times, then sent one over my head to her sister, who grabbed it with an angry slash and put it away. “Not now,” Kady said sharply.
I folded my hands and spent a few minutes studying the neat way fingers fit together. Nothing neat about my nails, though. Fix-up time. Maybe a new color. Red? Pearl? Something glittery? Black might be suitable.
“I guess this is it,” I said. My first words since leaving school. “Yes,” said Kady.
“At least we know what the body will look like, huh?”
“That was awful of me,” said Kady. “I can’t believe I did it.”
“Did what?” asked Jean.
“You meant to be helpful,” I said.
“I meant to shake you awake. I should have known it would happen soon enough.”
“Am I included in this conversation?” Jean asked.
“You didn’t keep them, did you?”
“Keep what, or don’t I get to know?” Jean asked.
“I made a fire and burned them in the sink.”
Jean held her hands in front of her face and turned them from side to side. “Gosh, I don’t seem to be invisible.”
Kady tossed the beanbag back, hitting her hard on the shoulder. “You don’t want to know.”
“Yes, I do. Arden, please tell!”
“I’ll tell,” Kady said. “I downloaded some pictures from a medical library and gave them to Arden. Drowned bodies.”
Jean hugged an embroidered throw pillow. “That’s sick.”
“I just felt so frustrated, Arden, that you were ignoring the truth.” I nodded. “Can’t ignore it now. So what do I do? I’ve never planned a funeral.”
“Mom and Dad will help.”
“Oh, girls,” Jean said, “aren’t we forgetting one small thing?”
“What?” I asked.
“No one has actually said the body was identified. What if it’s not him?”
*
Al and John arrived while we were eating supper. No one had eaten much, probably because of the prevailing mood, or maybe it was the heavy dose of hot sauce Jean had mixed into the scrambled eggs.
I was first to the door after the bell rang. The guys stood there, tired and grim. I motioned them in. Who would speak first?
Al unzipped his jacket “It wasn’t Scott.”
John walked in and nodded to the Drummonds, who had clustered behind me. He collapsed on a chair. “Worst thing I’ve ever had to do. I’ve never been to the morgue before. God, Arden, I hope you’re right. I hope he is alive. I hope he doesn’t look like that. You have no idea.”
Kady and I exchanged glances.
“Yes, she does,” Jean muttered.
Some internal Betty Crocker alarm went off in Mrs. D. and she slipped away to the kitchen. Probably whipping up some nonspicy eggs for the guys.
“Who was it?” I asked.
“Don’t know,” said Al. “Someone who was in the water a lot longer than Scott. Couple of sea kayakers disappeared last summer. Maybe it was one of those guys.”
“How did you know it wasn’t Scott?” I asked.
“It was so battered,” said John, more to himself than us. “There was nothing human about it. There wasn’t even a fa
ce.” The twins simultaneously crossed arms and flinched.
“This body was a male Caucasian,” Al said to me, “and it washed up close to the mouth of the Gogebic, so the deputies up there right away thought of Scott. This person, though, was at least six feet tall. Lots of things happen to a corpse in water, but it doesn’t grow six inches.”
Hope was renewed, but it was hard not to think that the waiting would soon be over for someone else.
CHAPTER 22
Do I look wonderful?” Hannah spun around, modeling a new haircut and sweater. Her hand swiped across the table in their kitchen, sending a mug wobbling toward the edge. Her mother lunged and made the rescue.
“You do. Quite beautiful. Who made the sweater?”
“Mom. I picked the yarn. Can we go now? You’ve talked so long.” Claire and I exchanged smiles; I’d been in their kitchen for maybe five minutes.
“Words cannot express my gratitude,” Claire said. “Ever since Scott mentioned to her that they might go to the Mall, she’s been anxious. I went once, years ago, and have no desire to do so ever again. So I’m grateful, but I wish you’d let me pay for it.”
“My treat, don’t argue. It’s you and me, kiddo,” I said to Hannah. “I guess we’re the only people in Penokee who know how to have fun.”
“Mom doesn’t. She’s working. They’re making bird feeders today.”
I turned to Claire and raised my eyebrows.
“The last day of an Elderhostel. We’re snowshoeing, bird watching, and then making feeders. Twenty senior citizens and me.”
I grinned. “Good thing you’ve got that master’s degree in biology.”
“Don’t wait up,” Hannah shouted as she pushed open the door.
“Ha,” I said. “We’ll be home by eight.”
Hannah waved an envelope in my face as I buckled my seat belt. “Look what I got,” she said.
“I can’t look because you’ll poke my eyes out. Put that down. What is it?”
“I got a card from my dad yesterday. Last weekend I called him and told him we were going to the megamall today. That was before they found that body. I heard Mom talking to Al about it. If it was Scott’s body would we be going?”
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