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“And?” Theo asked.
“And what?”
“What happened the next time she came to the house?” Auggie asked.
“She didn’t. She never came back. I didn’t see her again until the party.”
“What party?” Theo asked.
“The back-to-school party. On Saturday. On Mrs. Renshaw’s back forty.” She stopped and looked at them. “The high school kids like to have their parties out there—”
“We know about the parties,” Auggie said. “What do you mean you saw Shaniyah there on Saturday?”
“I saw her.”
“Explain,” Theo said. “From the beginning.”
Baylee shifted in her seat, picking at the upholstery, her nails making a soft popping sound as she worried a stitch. “Keelan went, of course. He’s very popular. He gets invited to everything. He has a very good group of friends, and they’re all very responsible, and I’d much rather know what they’re doing and where they’re doing it than be left in the dark. And that’s what would happen, you know? If I put my foot down, Keelan would simply do it anyway, only I wouldn’t know. I wouldn’t be able to make sure he’s ok.”
“Mrs. Vasquez.”
“I was taking them beer. It’s just beer.”
“You drove out to Mrs. Renshaw’s property?” Auggie asked.
She nodded.
“And?”
“You’ve been out there? So, you know how people park all over the place. I drove around for a while, trying to find Keelan and his friends. And I saw her. Shaniyah.”
“Where?” Theo asked. “What was she doing? How did she look?”
“She’d passed out,” Baylee said, a hint of the vicious smugness seeping back into her voice. “She was drunk. That’s why I noticed her; he had to pick her up and put her in the car.”
“Who?” Auggie asked.
“Her uncle. The one she lives with.”
25
The Johnson family lived in a side-split house, in a neighborhood of side-split houses, with old concrete roads spider-webbed with tar and lawns that had mostly gone to crabgrass. Their house had wood siding on top and brick below, with river rock around the foundation. No weeds, no mess. Someone had tucked a little wooden bench under the house’s overhang. The gray paint was peeling, and there was a little heart cut out at the center.
When Auggie knocked, he asked, “Is anyone going to be home? It’s the middle of the day.”
“They’re still grieving.”
“Not if they killed her they aren’t.”
“If they killed her,” Theo said drily, “they’re lying low and hoping everyone thinks they’re grieving.”
The door opened, and Tiera Johnson looked out at them. She was an imposing woman, taller than Auggie and much bigger, her Afro gathered in a powder blue wrap. She looked at him for a moment, her face not registering, and then she seemed to startle awake. “Mr. Lopez? Dr. Stratford?”
“Hi, Mrs. Johnson,” Theo said. “I’m so sorry about Shaniyah.”
“Thank you.”
“We wanted to come in person to tell you that. She was a special girl, and we both loved having the chance to work with her.”
