Noah nods in understanding. “Ryan’s new girlfriend has been hanging around?”
“It was her following us that night we walked to the lake. Did I tell you that?”
“No. When else have you seen her?”
“She followed me to the grocery store one day and gave me shit about stuff. Stood on the opposite side of the street another time and did some intense staring. And she was probably responsible for when you found the side gate unlocked. The day you were fixing the fence.”
“You think she’s been looking in your windows or something?”
I shrug. Because it’s as good a guess as any. “My security cameras record over their data every twenty-four hours if you don’t save it. She won’t be on there. And it’s not like it’s illegal to go grocery shopping. So I have no real proof this is actually happening.”
“And today’s the first time you’ve talked to Ryan in all these years?”
“Yes. That letter you brought me the first time we met was from him. He likes to write me creepy notes now and then. Let me know he’s got someone watching me and reporting back to him. He name-drops places I’ve been and comments on my hair and stuff.”
A muscle pops in the side of his jaw. Big feelings are happening, but his voice remains calm. “He really lost his shit there at the end of the call.”
“Yeah.” There’s not much I can say about it. “I didn’t know I was involved last time. That I knew the killer and could possibly affect what was happening. But this time I know that I am somehow involved and it’s still not helping.”
“Baby, you can’t affect anything.” His use of the endearment makes my heart skip a beat despite this fucked-up situation. “You’re not responsible for what’s happening and none of this is under your control.”
“I don’t want to hear that.”
“I know.”
“There really is nothing I can do to help her,” I say, my shoulders slumping.
“No. Not right now.”
“Shit.” There’s every chance if I do any more deep breathing, my lungs will collapse. Just die from overuse or something. “You’re still here. Are you sure you don’t want to run screaming? No one would blame you.”
“I’m good.”
“Yes, you really are.”
His shit-eating grin sure is something. “Now you’re just trying to make me blush.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” I almost laugh. It’s a close thing. “But I’m fine with you taking it that way.”
He smiles and gently sets Auggie on the ground. The good dog heaves out an almighty sigh. So hard being him. Life ruined. Again. “We need to eat. Then what do you say we get out of here for a while?”
My head turns toward the lurking media outside. “Not sure if going out there is a good idea.”
“Trust me,” he says, holding out a hand. “I’ve got a plan.”
It turns out the plan involves us moving the board and sneaking through the hole in the back fence. Through his house and into the garage where his motorcycle waits. He has a spare helmet for me to wear and it hides my face just fine. How the engine comes to life beneath me is a thrill. And molding myself against his back and wrapping my arms around his middle is even better. I want to hold on tight and never let go. He’s officially made me a stage-ten clinger and doesn’t even have the good sense to be worried.
Up goes the garage door and off we go. It’s the same wondrous sense of freedom as standing on the lake shore beneath a sky full of stars. The world races past in a myriad of colors and nothing can touch us. We head north with the Green Mountains on one side and the Adirondacks on our other. The beauty of it all is breathtaking. A reminder of all the good things out there. This is exactly what I needed—him and this perfect moment.
And by the time we return, Grace’s body has been found.
“My son has been a model prisoner. His therapist says he’s made wonderful progress with the rehabilitation program and is earnest and engaged. He’s accepted his culpability and made peace with the part he played in the tragic events that took place ten years ago.” Ryan’s mom stands tall and proud on the TV. A small crowd of people are gathered behind her holding candles. They’re in one of the parks by the lake.
My cell sits on the coffee table. We decided a group call on speakerphone was the safest option. Though my small front yard is currently unoccupied care of what’s happening on screen. The media have been lured away for the moment.
A cop car cruises past every hour or so. No idea if they’re keeping an eye on me or what. It would be nice to think they’re warning away any assholes wanting to try some vigilanteshit. Abuse my already broken letterbox or something. But who knows what their agenda is.
Noah had things to do at his place. I doubt he’ll leave me alone for long, however. As much as he likes to play it cool, he tends to worry.
