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“Who’s been delivering goods,” Don said. “She’ll keep quiet about it if she knows she could go to jail.”
Jail? Kelsey felt a little bit of potty slip out. Did they even have jail for kids? Kelsey’d never seen that on TV.
“I didn’t do anything,” she said trying to feel the way she had on Saturday when Dad wanted her to let Susan in her prayers. She crossed her legs tight.
“That’s where you’re wrong, kid,” Don said, coming a little closer. Kelsey’s whole body started to shake.
“Stop it, Don,” Mom said sounding really mean. “You’re scaring her.”
Don stopped. Kelsey was kind of surprised by that.
“I’m sorry, Barbie,” he said. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt, certainly not her.” He nodded toward Kelsey. “And the only way to guarantee that is to make sure she doesn’t say anything she shouldn’t. She has to know what she can’t say.”
“Don’t tell anyone you saw this garage or anything in it, Kelse, okay?” Mom asked, leaning low to look Kelsey in the eye.
She nodded. She wanted to go home.
“Not good enough,” Don said. He turned to Kelsey. “When you took that stuff to Kenny, it was against the law,” he said. “If you say a word about any of this to anyone—your father, even your friends—you’ll get arrested and they’ll put you in jail.”
A little more potty trickled out. She could feel it on her leg inside her jeans.
“Mommy?” She glanced at her mom and wanted to die when, after a minute of watching Don, her mother nodded.
She was going to jail. Kelsey couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t go there. Daddy wouldn’t be able to see her or take care of her.
“Are kid jails the same as big-people jails?” she asked, starting to cry.
“Now see what you’ve done,” Mom said, pulling Kelsey into her arms and hugging her hard. Kelsey was glad about that. If her mom held her tight enough, they’d never be able to do anything bad to her. “No, sweetie, they aren’t the same,” she said. “But you aren’t going there.”
Don came closer, Kelsey could hear his feet on the garage floor, and she could smell him, too. “You don’t have to be afraid of anything,” he said, his voice soft and gentle. He knelt down and turned Kelsey around so she had to see him.
She might throw up and wet her pants the rest of the way, too.
“Your mom and I know what to do,” he told Kelsey. “We’re good at this, and we’ll make sure you don’t get in trouble or get hurt,” he said. “But you have to promise you won’t say a word about any of this to anyone, because we don’t know who else we can trust. Okay?”
Kelsey nodded, squeezing her legs harder.
“Promise?”
“Do you promise I won’t get in trouble?”
“I swear it,” he said, crossing his heart.
“Okay. Now can I go home?”
“You want a snack first?” Mom asked.
MEREDITH LEFT SCHOOL almost as soon as her students were gone on Friday afternoon. She had an errand to run. She’d told herself she wouldn’t. Had decided to lie low, ignore her intuition for once. She had her job. As far as she knew, Mark had no intention of starting procedures to terminate her. She’d been served with no written statement to that effect.
She’d worn black and white again, to remind herself to stay away from the shades of gray that dominated her life—leaving no room for what-ifs.
And black slacks, white blouse, black-and-white pumps and all, here she was in her Mustang, heading toward the secluded neighborhood of expensive custom-built homes where Ruth Barnett lived.
The heavy maroon-colored door opened a crack after her first ring of the doorbell.
“Mrs. Barnett?”
“Ms. Foster?” The woman sounded more frightened than pleased to see her.
