Maybe fifteen minutes later, Dad came out to us.
He spoke to me first.
“Jillian, give your sister time. She doesn’t know you anymore, and your being here is upsetting her.”
“Me?”
“Dad,” Liv tries, “Jillian is trying to help.”
“We’ve done fine without her help for over six years.” He turns to me. “Go back to the lake. Your mom will call when we know more.”
I look at my other siblings, from Liv to Ollie, but before I can formulate a response, Dad motions for my siblings to follow him back to Julie’s room.
As I reach for my computer bag and purse, Ollie looks my way and then turns. I don’t know what I expected him to say, but I suppose it was something—anything.
Now, I’m here at the Walleye Tavern, discussing my life story with Theo Morton.
“Simple story, really,” I say, answering Theo. “Small town girl moves to the big city to...” I search for the right word.
“Find herself?” he offers in question.
“Is that what Sydney said?”
He shrugs. “Did you do it?”
Find myself?
“I guess that depends on who you ask.” I sprinkle more salt on the remaining fries. There is something about salt that goes well with liquor. It’s probably whymany bars offer bowls of peanuts or the ones still in their shells. They make the floor slippery, but it’s fun to shuck them.
“How is your sister?” Theo asks, changing the subject.
“Better. She’s awake.”
His blue eyes open wider. “She wasn’t before?”
Shit.
“Were you at the sheriff’s talk this morning?” I ask.
“I got there late, but I heard that Julie was found badly hurt and was in the hospital. I didn’t know she was asleep. Were you there, at the hospital? The gym was packed. Not as full as Coach’s funeral, but that doesn’t mean that everyone isn’t interested. It’s that some folks took off work on Friday and couldn’t do it again so soon. I’m sure word will travel.”
“In Blue Gil?” I ask with more than a bit of sarcasm.
“Shocking, but yes. We have this thing here called the internet. On there, a person can post a message and within seconds it’s available for everyone to read. Sometimes we use text messages. We’ve come a long way since smoke signals.”
“That’s good, better for the environment.”
Theo reaches for a rag on the other side of the bar and wipes the surface as his expression turns serious. “I’ve been thinking about this whole thing. Who would do that to them?” He lowers his voice. “What kind of sick fuck would hurt your sister and kill Marty Thompson?”
“Did you know her—Marty?”
Theo shrugs. “Just from around town. Pretty girl.”
“That’s it? No interaction?”
“She’s dead, Jillian. I won’t say anything derogatory about her.”
“It’s just” —I take another drink of my whisky— “I heard a rumor.”
