Page 53 of They Say a Girl Died Here

As her shift was finishing, Miles emerged from the kitchen with a loaded sandwich and fries, ignoring Jeannie’s sharp look. Jeannie didn’t think it was right or good manners for them to eat out front with the customers, but Miles’s answer was always that none of their clientele gave a Frenchman’s fart, and then his crudeness would make her flounce away. Today, though, she said nothing.

“Good to see you, Jed.” Miles sat on a stool at the counter beside a greasy-looking man in a tired suit who’d been nursing a coffee for thirty minutes or so. “Hey, Anna, get Jed a slice of pie before you go. Jed and I go all the way back to high school.”

“Sure do.” The other man nodded and smiled, his teeth crooked and nicotine-stained. “I try to stop in when I’m passing this way. See how the old dog is doing.” As Anna plated a large slice of peach pie, she smiled back but knew right away that she didn’t like Jed. Even before the thing, she wouldn’t have liked him. It was the way he looked at her. Like she was a piece of meat he was amused by but looked down on. He was a man who didn’t like women. Not really. Not beyond tits and ass. A traveling salesman, if there was really such a thing these days. No wonder Jeannie had stayed at the other end of the counter and not made a fuss of him. This was Miles’s friend and nothing to do with her.

Anna put the plate down and immediately started taking off her apron. She wasn’t staying any longer than she had to.

“Hey, I see there are still posters up about those girls who got killed.” Jed forked a mouthful of pie while he talked to Miles. “I thought that was done.”

“Small towns. There’s always talk. Always rumors.”

“Probably brought it on themselves. You seen the things girls nowadays wear in bars, like men have no red blood in them? Then it’s our fault if it turns out they ain’t even legal.”

Miles snorted as he bit into his sandwich, mayo dribbling down his chin. It wasn’t a pleasant sound and it made Anna feel sick. She’d never seen this side of Miles before. Maybe it only came out around men like Jed, when it was allowed. Men like Miles were weak. That made them more dangerous. Unpredictable. Men like Miles acted like an ally but then would be led by the pack and become the worst of them. The kind to say It wasn’t my fault.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she muttered, and hurried toward the door, not even waving a goodbye to Jeannie as she nearly ran out into the stifling air. These men. Always these men. She’d learned the hard way. Lila and Bonnie had learned the final way.

She was about to kick the scooter off, eager to get away, when she saw a man standing outside The Shamrock, staring at her. If looks could kill, she thought as she realized who it was. Melissa’s dad, who didn’t like his daughter having friends. He rocked back on his heels slightly. Drunk. It wasn’t even three. He took a step toward her, and that was all the encouragement she needed to get the scooter going. She’d had enough. She waited until she was nearly clear of town before she paused and looked back. There was no one following her. She got her phone out and sent a message to Melissa. Hope you’re okay today. Thinking of you on Lila’s anniversary. Also, thought you should know I just saw your dad outside The Shamrock. I think he’s drinking:-(

Melissa replied straightaway. Thanks for letting me know, and yeah, I’m okay. I’ll go down and check on Dad when I’m done here.

Poor Melissa. It was so shit. She was pretty much running that farm by herself. Men, Anna thought again as she headed onto the road home. They should all burn in hell.

62

Anna spotted Dr. Burdett as she was going past the cemetery and pulled the scooter over. It was rare they got time alone and she had questions she didn’t want to ask in front of Mom or Grandma. He waved as he saw her coming, and she joined him, standing in front of Lila’s grave.

“Your grandma’s sleeping, but your mother’s home,” he said. “I’m going to collect Caroline from school. Take her shopping and for a milkshake.”

“You’re going shopping with Caroline?” He smiled at her incredulous question, not seeing her unease. She didn’t like the idea of her little sister getting undressed near a man, even in the safety of a changing room.

“She’s still scared about this camping party. The way they’ve all made ghost stories out of the Farmhand. I told your mom I’ll talk to her about it.”

“Right.” In front of them, Lila kept on smiling from her tombstone photo, as if no one had a worry in the world.

“Jamie’s blood analysis came back,” the doc said. “He’d taken a large dose of heroin. Not enough to kill him, but enough to make swimming difficult. He’d been by the pool when he shot up, that was evident from the paraphernalia and cigarettes by the lounge chairs. He was thin and not healthy. He probably decided to swim while high and it was too much for him. Accidental death.” He was leaning on a stick, and with his face crinkling deeper in the glare, he looked older. “His folks should have emptied that pool. No one there to use it apart from him. They were going to, and he persuaded them against it. He used to be a good swimmer, and I guess they thought it might encourage him to exercise. Foolish thinking, given how he was.”

Send in the clowns. She felt momentarily cooler thinking of Grandma’s humming. Maybe someone got Jamie high and threw him in the pool. There were too many coincidences. Too many strangenesses.

She looked over to the gravestone farther away. “Was Bonnie Buchanan pregnant when she died?”

Dr. Burdett had probably been waiting for her to refute his claim that Jamie’s death was an accident, but this was the question she’d stopped to ask him. “You’re the coroner, right? You must have seen her autopsy report.”

“Why would you think she was pregnant?” He looked shocked. Surprised.

“That’s not answering the question.”

“No.” He frowned. “No, she wasn’t. Why do you ask?”

“She had a secret boyfriend. She’d been unwell in the mornings. Moodier. I’m curious who that boyfriend was.”

“Still think the police didn’t get their man?”

“That’s a separate issue.” A hot breeze swirled dust around her feet. Lila was only sixteen when she was murdered, and more time had passed. It was harder to get to know her. Bonnie was different. “I feel like Bonnie maybe left clues that weren’t followed because Michael Cairns was served up as guilty so quickly.”

The doctor said nothing for a moment, then sniffed and sighed. “You know, I delivered both those girls.” He took his hat off, a mark of quiet respect. “Gave them their shots. I couldn’t say I knew them, not like their friends or family, but you can’t not know a person a little when you’re their doctor. I know Lila was a tough athlete, hard as nails under that Barbie exterior. Played through a fractured ankle once. Didn’t cry. Bonnie was older, of course. She was one of the world’s quiet people. Just wanted to get by and live a comfortable, happy life.”

“Pastor Keene knew them both too,” Anna said. “They helped out with church stuff.”