Here and Gone(9)

‘You can’t arrest me,’ Sean said.

The sheriff leaned in close, the fear in his eyes edging into anger. ‘You absolutely sure of that, son?’

Sean swallowed and said, ‘Okay.’

He climbed out, and Whiteside put a heavy hand on his shoulder, guided him toward the cruiser, Collins holding Louise’s hand as she led the way. Collins opened the rear door of her car and helped Louise inside.

‘Scoot on over, honey,’ Collins said. She held a hand out for Sean.

Sean turned to look back at the sheriff’s car, tried to see his mother through the windshield. All he could make out was a vague shape that might or might not have been her. Whiteside’s thick fingers tightened on his shoulder, kept him moving toward Collins.

‘In you go,’ Collins said, a hand under his arm, maneuvering him into the car. ‘Do me a favor and help put your sister’s seat belt on, all right?’

Sean paused when he saw the car’s rear seat covered in a sheet of clear plastic, taped in place, covering the bench, the seatback, the footwells, the headrests. Collins put a hand to the small of his back, pushed him fully inside.

The door closed behind him, and he peered out through the dusty glass as the two police officers talked, their heads close together. Collins nodded at whatever Whiteside told her, then the sheriff turned and walked back toward his own vehicle. Collins stood still for a time, a hand over her mouth, staring at nothing. Sean had a moment to wonder what thoughts held her there, before she walked around the car, opened the driver’s door, and lowered herself inside.

As she turned the key in the ignition, she looked back at Sean and said, ‘I asked you to help your sister with her seat belt. Can you do that for me?’

Without taking his eyes off Collins, Sean pulled the belt across Louise, fastened it, then did his own.

‘Thank you,’ the deputy said.

Collins put the car in drive and pulled out from the shoulder, accelerating away from the station wagon in which they had traveled across the country. The turn for Silver Water came closer, and Sean waited for her to brake and turn the wheel.

She did not. Instead, she picked up more speed as she passed the exit. Sean turned his head, watched the sign and the turn fall away behind them. The terror that had been squirming in his belly since the sheriff pulled them over now climbed up into his chest and into his throat. The tears came, hot and shocking, spilling from his cheeks onto his T-shirt. He tried to hold them back, but couldn’t. Nor could he keep the whine trapped in his mouth.

Collins glanced back at him. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘Everything’s going to be all right.’

Somehow, the fact that she saw him cry like a baby made it worse, piling shame on top of the fear, and he cried all the harder. He cried for his mom and for home and the time they had together before they had to leave.

Louise reached across the seat, her small hand taking his. ‘Don’t cry,’ she said. ‘Everything’s going to be all right. They told us.’

But Sean knew they lied.





5


AUDRA SAW THE other cruiser pull away, blurred by her tears. She had watched her children being taken from the station wagon and brought to the deputy’s car, saw Sean’s glances back at her, wept when they disappeared from view. Now Sheriff Whiteside ambled back, his shades on, thumbs hooked into his belt, like there wasn’t a thing wrong with the world. As if her children hadn’t just been driven away by a stranger.

A stranger, maybe, but a policewoman. Whatever trouble Audra might be in, the policewoman would take care of the kids. They would be safe.

‘They’ll be safe,’ Audra said aloud, her voice ringing hollow in the car. She closed her eyes and said it again, like a wish she desperately wanted to come true.

Whiteside opened the driver’s door and lowered himself in, his weight rocking the car. He closed the door, slipped his key into the ignition, and started the engine. The fans whooshed into life, pushing warm air around the interior.

She saw the reflection of his sunglasses in the rearview mirror, and she knew he was watching her, like a bee trapped in a jar. She sniffed hard, swallowed, blinked the tears away.

‘Tow won’t be long,’ he said. ‘Then we’ll be on our way.’

‘That policewoman—’

‘Deputy Collins,’ he said.

‘The deputy, where is she taking my children?’

‘To a safe place.’

Audra leaned forward. ‘Where?’

‘A safe place,’ he said. ‘You got other things to worry about right now.’

She inhaled, exhaled, felt hysteria rise, held it back. ‘I want to know where my children are,’ she said.

Whiteside sat still and silent for a few seconds before he said, ‘Best be quiet now.’

‘Please, just tell—’

He removed his sunglasses, turned in his seat to face her. ‘I said, be quiet.’

Audra knew that look, and it chilled her heart. That melding of hate and anger in his eyes. The same look her father had worn when he’d had a bellyful of liquor and needed to hurt someone, usually her or her little brother.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said in a voice so low it wasn’t even a whisper.

Like a little girl of eight again, hoping ‘sorry’ would keep her father’s belt round his waist, not swinging from his fist. She couldn’t hold his stare, dropped her gaze to her lap.