“Like I said, it’s been a rough year.”
“Do you think she’ll be okay tonight?”
“I don’t know. She’s with her friends. What are you going to do? You’re what...almost twenty-five years old? If Sheriff Manes breaks up the party, he’ll more than likely send everyone home. That’s the Blue Gil way. If there are older people there, he could get shitty. He’s been in a place since the coach was found, according to people I know still living in Blue Gil. The residents wantto know why law enforcement didn’t find the body and left it to boys. Since Austin was one of the boys who found him, I can see how it might be messing with Julie.”
“Austin was one of the football players who found Coach Gilbert?”
“Yeah,” Liv replies. “I don’t think their names have been officially released. It was Austin and Paxton Buyer, both seniors. According to my friend Beth, there was a big uproar, complaining about Sheriff Manes and the other deputies. He’s standing by his word that the area was previously searched.”
“Do you think that someone moved Craig...I mean, the coach’s body?”
“Ew. No. I don’t know.” Her answer continues to change. “Maybe you spend too much time working in fiction, not that your job isn’t sweet.”
That’s what Becky said.
“Are you going to church and Sunday dinner tomorrow?” Liv asks.
“I wasn’t sure, but talking to you makes me feel better.”
“Oh, do it for Mom. Matt and I will join you. I’ll play little sister and help deflect if Dad or Mom gets annoying.”
“Thanks, Liv. Do you think I should go out to the McKenna farm?”
“I don’t. No good will come of it. If Mom finds out, she’ll accuse you of going behind her back. Just play dumb. You’ve only been in town for twenty-four hours; how could you know what’s going on?”
“Right. See you tomorrow.”
“Glad to have you home,” Liv says, “even for a little bit.”
As I disconnect the call, I can’t help but think about what Liv and Sheriff Manes said. The sheriff’s department searched the ditch where Craig Gilbert was found. If that’s true, how did they miss him?
Was he there?
I pour another glass of wine as the wind picks up outside the cottage.
Chapter
Eleven
One glass of wine became two. The bottle emptied, but thankfully I had more. Before I went to the grocery store in Lawton, I stopped by St. Julian Winery. As the sky darkened and it grew later, sleep eluded me. My mind filled with thoughts about whatever was happening at the bonfire. I told myself it was silly to worry—Julie functioned without me for six years.
Why would this night be any different?
Throughout the night, the seven girls at the park continued to appear in my thoughts. Senior year is an important time. I couldn’t help but wonder why Julie changed her college plans and what it was like for them, and the boys too, to lose a teacher and coach right before graduation.
The more wine I consumed, the more I saw his death from their perspective.
Teenagers are selfish by nature. It isn’t their fault, as much as life and biology. I remember thinking I wasgrown up, but as time moves on, I realize that eighteen is far from mature. This is supposed to be their time, pomp and circumstance and all of that. And now, it will forever be marred by the accidental death of their coach.
Perhaps it was the multitude of questions that continued to cloud my thoughts. Or it was the time difference between the West Coast and Michigan that had finally caught up with me. Whatever the reason, the last time I looked at the clock in the bedroom before I finally fell asleep, the time began with a three.
The banging on the cottage door begins in my dream.
It rattles my reality until the dream disappears, and the banging pulls me from my slumber.
Lifting my phone, my eyes squint as I look for the time.
Peering at the screen, I notice that I’ve missed multiple calls. Before I can check to see who called, I read the time. It’s after twelve. “Shit,” I mumble as the banging resumes.
