by Amy Engel
“Hi, Hallie,” I said as I approached. “I’m Junie’s mom. We’ve met a few times.”
“I remember,” she said, voice cautious. She clutched a notebook to her chest like a shield. Around her, kids peeled off toward the buses, eyeing us with curiosity but not slowing down.
“Can I talk to you?” I asked.
Hallie glanced at the buses and then nodded. “For a second. I don’t want to miss my bus.”
“Okay, sure.” I stepped away from the doors and Hallie trailed behind me. When I turned around, she was biting her bottom lip, her eyes on the ground.
“I’m really sorry about Junie,” she whispered. “And Izzy, too.”
I knew people were trying to be kind, but I was already tired of this ritual. Did people actually think their being sorry helped? That my hearing an endless litany of worthless words over and over and over again made anything better? But Hallie was just a kid, I reminded myself, the same age as Junie. I swallowed down what I really wanted to say and managed a thank-you instead.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” I said. “Was Izzy dating an older guy?”
Hallie’s eyes flew up to mine, and I knew right then she hadn’t been raised in a house like the one where I grew up. She had no poker face. My mother would have eaten her alive. “What?” she managed to stumble out, her cheeks flaring red. “No. I don’t know.”
I raised my eyebrows at her and waited. I figured it would take twenty seconds of silence to break her, but it only took ten. “I mean, she wasn’t like dating him. But she liked him.” Hallie paused, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “They messed around some.”
“Who was he?” I asked, my heart a steady drumbeat pounding got him got him got him.
Hallie shrugged. “I don’t know. Honest,” she added when she glanced at my face. “Izzy would never say.”
“Did Junie know who it was?”
“Yeah, I think so. But she always kept Izzy’s secrets.” Hallie took a step closer to me, lowered her voice. “They fought about it, though. Junie was threatening to tell someone if Izzy didn’t stop. She seemed really worried about Izzy.”
“Do you know how old this guy was?” I asked. Eighteen, I was thinking. Please say eighteen and not something worse.
“Old,” Hallie said. “I don’t know exactly. But maybe thirty?”
“Why would you say that?” I tried to keep my voice steady even as my stomach bottomed out.
“Just the way they talked about him. He wasn’t a teenager. Not even close.” Hallie looked over her shoulder, started shuffling backward. “I gotta go. I’m gonna miss the bus.” When she met my eyes again, I could see it there, something she wanted to say but wasn’t going to. Something that was trapped behind her clenched teeth.
“Hallie, wait.” I reached forward and snagged at the sleeve of her sweatshirt, but she pivoted away from me.
“I can’t. I have to go.”
I watched her walk away, her eyes on the sidewalk. Frustration pounded through me, and I could feel the part of me that belonged to my mama wanting to race after her and grab a handful of her red hair in my fist. Jerk her bald-headed until she talked. Someone yelled to her from the bus, and she picked up her pace, grabbing the handrail on the bus steps to swing herself inside. Just before she disappeared, she looked back at me. “Talk to your brother,” she called, barely loud enough for me to catch the words. By the time the syllables had sorted themselves out inside my head, the door was closing. As the bus pulled away, I caught a glimpse of Hallie’s face in the window, her eyes skating away from mine.
Cal. Who loved Junie like his own. Who’d grown up breaking the law—stealing food when I was hungry, fighting kids who wronged me, running drug errands for Mama so I didn’t have to—and now lived to follow it. Cal, who all the women wanted but could never seem to catch. He always said it was because he was focused on work or they were too needy, wanted too much of him—a shudder ran through me—but maybe they were just too old.
NINE
Thomas almost bowled me over with a stinking bag of trash when he barreled out through the back door of the diner. “Jesus Christ,” he said, pivoting to avoid me at the last second, the plastic bag thunking against my hip. “What the hell are you doing out here, Eve?”
I leaned sideways, wrinkling my nose at the smell. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to trip you.”
Thomas heaved the sack over the railing and into the open dumpster, the lid closing again with a hollow clank. He wiped his hands on his apron. “Didn’t answer my question,” he said.
I shrugged. “Having a smoke.” Truth was, after talking to Hallie, I hadn’t known what to do with myself. I’d called Cal, but he hadn’t answered. I couldn’t stand the thought of going back to my empty apartment. The diner was the closest thing I had to a home. And if that thought wasn’t depressing enough, sitting out here with the smell of rotted trash in the air and broken bottles and cigarette butts at my feet really sealed the deal.
Thomas lowered himself next to me, wincing a little. He was getting too old to be on his feet all day, bent over that cooktop. But I knew he’d never give it up. Would work that kitchen until the day he keeled over on the cracked linoleum floor. “Since when do you smoke?”
“Since my kid got murdered.”
That would have shut most people up. But not Thomas, who never was shy with his opinion. “Nasty habit,” he said with a shake of his head. I felt him look at me, his dark eyes running over the side of my face. “How you doing, sweet girl?” he asked finally.
Tears pricked my eyes, but I blinked them back. I hadn’t seen Thomas or Louise since Izzy’s funeral, where I’d spotted them across the church and just as quickly avoided all eye contact. I could hold myself together around most people. People who didn’t really care about me or Junie. People who barely knew us or made mouth noises about how sorry they were. But Thomas and Louise had known Junie since the day she was born. Thomas had rocked Junie for hours when she had colic as a baby. Louise had been the one to teach me to talk to Junie even when she was too young to know what I was saying. My mama thought words were wasted on babies: What’re you talking to her for? Only thing she understands is your tit in her mouth. Without Thomas and Louise those early years would have been so much harder. They had held Junie in their arms and watched her grow. Loved teasing me about how smitten I was with my daughter. They knew the truth. Outside I was still a functioning human. But inside I was ripped to shreds. “Not so good,” I told him, flicked the cigarette away. I didn’t even know why I was smoking it. It was a nasty habit, made my mouth taste like my mama used to smell. Sour and edged with violence. It scared me a little how comforting that taste was right now. “I want to come back to work.”
Thomas mulled that over. I could see his brain working behind his eyes. “You sure that’s a good idea? I can float you a loan, you know. No need for you to do more than you’re able right now.”
I shook my head. “I can’t sit around all day. It’s making me crazy.” Making me think about doing things, things only my mama would approve of. I picked up a pebble and bounced it in my hand. “I promise I’ll behave. I won’t cry into anyone’s coffee, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Thomas made a gruff sound in his throat. “I don’t care if you sob all day long. It’s not you I’m worried about. It’s all the lookie-loos around here. Asking questions and sticking their noses in where they don’t belong.”
“I can handle it,” I said, but my words had the ring of bravado rather than truth. Thomas patted my knee lightly. “Why don’t you wait and see,” he said. “Give it a few more days.”
We sat in silence then, listening to stray bits of trash blowing up against the chain-link fence across the alley. In the distance I could hear occasional cars passing on the highway, the smell of the dumpster thankfully overpowered by the wind bringing a faint scent of spring flo
wers. It was surprisingly peaceful back here. I felt hidden, and part of me never wanted to get up, had a vague notion of roosting on these steps for the foreseeable future.
“Oh Lord,” Thomas said. “We got company.” He stood up, dusting off the seat of his pants. “And not the good kind.”
A police cruiser was easing down the alley toward us, tires crunching over old gravel. From the outline of the driver, I knew it wasn’t Cal. Too bulky, not tall enough, and my stomach took a steep dive even as I told myself to stop it. Nothing to be scared of. I was a victim’s mother now, someone to be handled with kid gloves.
The cruiser pulled up alongside us, and the driver’s window went down with a whir. “Hey there, Thomas,” Land said, eyes hidden behind reflective sunglasses.
Thomas didn’t respond other than a faint nod. Land’s job might have been to protect and serve, but those duties always came with a little dose of attitude when the person Land was protecting and serving had some extra pigment to their skin. Like he wasn’t doing his job, he was doing them a favor. And they’d owe him eventually. The half smile slid off Land’s face as he turned to look at me. “Eve,” he said. “We need to talk.”
“Okay,” I said without moving.
“In private,” Land clarified.
“Why don’t you two come on inside,” Thomas said. “Have a cup of coffee while you chat.”
Land’s gaze slid back to Thomas, or I assumed it did because his head turned that direction. “Nah, we’re fine out here.” He gestured to me with one hand extended out his window. “Come on, Eve. I ain’t got all day.”
I stood up, legs heavy, and started down the steps. Thomas’s hand shot out and caught at my forearm, bringing me up short. “You need me,” he said low, “I’m right inside.”
I nodded. It occurred to me for the first time that maybe I wasn’t the only one in this town with bad memories of Land, whose steps slowed every time he slid into view. I stood by Land’s passenger door until Thomas went back inside, had to take a quick step backward when Land shoved open the door and motioned for me to hop in with an impatient hand.
I settled into the passenger seat carefully, my body folded into itself. I hadn’t been inside Land’s car in years, and I’d sworn I never would be again. “You got any idea why I’m here?” Land asked.
“No.” Although I was pretty sure I did.
Land sighed. “I got a call from Hallie Marshall’s mama. Said you were harassing her girl outside of school today.”
I turned toward him. “I was not harassing her. I asked her a couple of questions, that’s all.”
Land mirrored my position, one beefy hand coming up to clutch the top of the steering wheel, sunlight glinting off the wedding ring he still wore, although his wife, Mabel, had died two years ago. Probably sick of looking at his smug face every day. Even across the car, I could smell stale coffee on his breath. “Since when is it your job to go around asking questions? You got a police badge I don’t know about? You need to let us do what we’re trained to do, Eve.”
“Okay, then,” I said, heat rising in my chest. “Have you talked to Hallie?” Land shook his head, and before he could say anything more, I plowed on, “Well, you should have. Did you know Izzy was involved with an older guy? A lot older? That could have something to do with the murders. If I waited for you all to fig—”
“We already know that,” Land said.
All the air went out of my tirade, my mouth left hanging open in the middle of a word. “Know what?”
“About the older guy. Cal heard it from Junie.”
It should have relieved me, Hallie’s words about Cal making sense now. She wasn’t pointing me toward Izzy’s older man, but toward someone who might know more about him. But I couldn’t wrap my head around it, the fact that Cal had known about Izzy and hadn’t told me. And I hated that Land was a step ahead of me. Always. “Who was it?” I demanded.
Land shook his head. “We’re still figuring that out. But I wouldn’t tell you even if I knew for sure. You don’t have any business getting involved in this.”
“She was my daughter,” I burst out. “How can you say it’s not my business?”
“I heard you went and confronted Jimmy Ray, too,” Land said, like I hadn’t even spoken. “That’s a bad idea, Eve. Don’t need to remind you how that turned out for you last time, do I?” His eyes flicked toward my wrist, his hand following the movement, and I snatched my arm away.
“Don’t touch me!”
Land pulled back, a smirk chasing its way across his face. “Jesus, calm down,” he said. “Every time you see me you’re like a cat on a hot tin roof.” He lowered his voice even though there was no one but me to hear him. “It was only a blow job. Can’t believe it’s still got you worked up after all this time. Know for a fact it wasn’t the first one you’d ever given.”
My throat burned at his words; my never-healed-quite-right wrist bones ached under my skin. My stomach heaved as if it were all happening right now instead of on a rainy October night almost a decade ago. It had been the end for Jimmy Ray and me for a while. We’d both known it, me because I wasn’t going to let him keep on hitting me in front of my daughter and him because it had reached the point where the fun of smacking me around was outweighed by what a pain in the ass I’d turned into. Calling the cops. Not fighting back, exactly, but resisting him just the same, no matter what he threatened. But with Jimmy Ray everything had to be on his terms. Even the leaving. And he wasn’t quite ready yet. Even after he’d split my lip and blackened my eyes, snapped my wrist bones between his hands, he hadn’t been ready to let go. Had told me he’d see me soon, winked as they’d loaded him into the back of the police cruiser, the spinning lights making the world tilt and whirl in front of me.
Land had taken me to the hospital because Cal was watching over Junie, tucking her back into bed and telling her lies about what had happened to her mama. Land had stayed with me until they’d wrapped my arm and told me to come back in two days for a permanent cast. And then he’d led me back out to his cruiser, parked on the dark edge of the hospital parking lot, and told me the drill.
“You’re causing me a lot of trouble,” he’d said. “This business with you and Jimmy Ray.”
“Me?” The word coming out smushed and garbled between my swollen lips. “I just want him to go away. We’re over. I don’t understand why you can’t make him leave me alone. Isn’t that your job?” I wasn’t worried about myself. What was one more beating in the scheme of things? But Junie, every day she was growing older, cataloguing more of the world around her, remembering. And I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep Cal contained, promising him I could handle it, swearing I’d never speak to him again if he put himself in the middle, risked his job over an idiot like Jimmy Ray. Secretly, I worried he’d try something and end up dead. Cal was smart and strong, but Jimmy Ray didn’t care about anything except his own survival, and that made him the more dangerous man.
Land had sighed, his default expression of choice, and turned toward me. Both his mustache and his belly were smaller then, but he still had the outlines of the same man. One who’d worn his authority for so long, and with so little resistance, that he took it all for granted. “Well, that’s the thing,” he said. “I can’t do my job, not the way I’m supposed to, when you’ve got me at odds with Jimmy Ray.” He spread his hands in the darkness. “He and I, we do for each other. You understand?”
I’d heard rumors about the arrangement between Jimmy Ray and Land. Hell, everyone had. That they scratched each other’s backs. That whatever they had worked out was the reason Jimmy Ray might get arrested for beating a girlfriend or drunk driving, but never for anything more serious. And never for anything that wouldn’t quietly go away the next morning.
“No,” I said. “I don’t understand. Are you not going to help me, then?”
“Look,” Land said, his voice s
low, like he was talking to a child. “I know what Jimmy Ray does. But he keeps it away from this town. He keeps his people in line. No drug murders. No dead bodies filling up my streets.”
I snorted. “Yeah, because he dumps them in the woods instead for the wild hogs to eat.”
“I don’t care what the fuck he does with them, long as they don’t show up on my watch. No one gives a shit about what happens to those people, anyway. Ones that are all mixed up in Jimmy Ray’s world. Good riddance, far as I’m concerned.” One of Land’s hands inched closer to my leg, not quite touching. I watched it the way you would a spider skittering toward you. Knowing it was coming, but hoping for a detour at the last second. “That’s the deal we got. He keeps his business under control, and I look the other way. Neither one of us wants a war. It’s better this way.”
“Better for who?” I asked, shifting my body away from that creeping hand.
“For everyone,” Land snapped. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” The rain had picked up, sharp taps on the roof and a steady stream across the windshield, closing us in. “And now you’re wanting me to disrupt all that.” Land shook his head. “It’s a problem, Eve. It’s gonna cause me some grief.”
My stomach sank. I knew what he meant. A little tit for tat. How many times had I seen my mama caught in the same trap? It seemed the fate of women the world over. “What do you want?” I said, voice flat. I’d heard whispers about Land for years, so I already knew. But I was going to make him say it, at least.
Land eyed me for a second and then took my hand, limp and cold, in his and pressed it against the front of his pants. Rubbed my slack palm over his hardening dick. “But with your mouth.”
I swallowed, kept my eyes on the rain pelting the windshield. “And if I do?”
“Then I take care of Jimmy Ray for you. Make sure he stays gone.” He pushed up into my hand, his breath coming faster.
I wanted my hand to come alive, pictured my numb fingers closing hard, nails digging into flesh. Leaving blood and permanent damage behind. But Junie is what stopped me. The vision of her face, eyes wide and cheeks streaked with tears. Her tiny voice—Mama?—as she watched Jimmy Ray crush my wrist in his fist and heard me scream out in pain. I hadn’t been able to protect her from that. But this could be a secret. She would never have to know, never have to see with her own eyes what I’d been reduced to. We’d be free of Jimmy Ray, once and for all. And I’d be the mother she needed from now on, the mother she deserved. No more mistakes. It seemed almost like poetic justice, in a way. Jimmy Ray was my fault, my moment of weakness. This would be my punishment.