Take the Fall(58)

“I understand.” I let my shoulders drop, though I don’t feel at all relaxed. “Thank you, Sheriff.”

He gets up to walk me to the door. “Now, why don’t you get me that picture, then go home and get some rest. I think we’ve all earned it after today.”

I hesitate and look up at him once I’m in the hall. “Do you think he was working by himself—the guy you arrested?”

A line appears between the sheriff’s eyebrows. “I’ve got no reason to believe he wasn’t.”

I nod. “I’m glad you caught him.”

His jaw is firm, but there’s a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. “I promised your mother I’d keep you safe, and that’s what I intend to do.”





TWENTY-FIVE


MY MOM AIMS THE REMOTE at the TV above the register, clicking it over to baseball, as soon as the sheriff is finished speaking.

“Let’s hope that’s the end of it.”

“Not likely,” someone mutters. “They haven’t even charged the guy yet.”

“I’m keeping my doors locked. He and the Perez kid could’ve been in on it together.”

“Shameful what they did to that memorial.”

“To think of that sweet girl—leading a double life.”

Uncle Noah changes the subject with a comment about the Mets and I throw all my energy into busing tables. I think I’m more relieved than anyone about Alex Burke’s arrest, but every time I think about the postcard, I still look over my shoulder. Hopefully the sheriff will get back to me about the fingerprint soon.

I haven’t approached my mom about the last-minute Penn visit yet, but I’m counting on the news easing her mind enough to let me go without a fuss. Dina already said she’d go with me and I know she’ll back me up.

“There she is, let’s hear it for Dina!” Mr. Tardiff shouts over his pot roast. There’s a smattering of applause as my aunt comes out of the kitchen.

Dina shakes her head, crossing the room to warm up his coffee.

“How did you know he was the killer?” his wife asks.

Mr. Tardiff grunts. “I’ve always said you can’t trust a stray dog in Jamesville.”

“I never even saw the guy,” Dina says. “I noticed the Mercedes at the back of the lot when I picked up my car. I thought it looked like Gretchen’s, so I mentioned it to Shelly—she deserves all the credit. I never dreamed it would lead to something like this.”

“You going to collect that reward money? If anyone in this town deserves to, it’s—”

“I don’t want the Meyers’ money.”

I look up, surprised. Fifty thousand dollars would put a huge dent in Dina’s student loans. She could even use it to get her restaurant started.

“You look like you could use a cup of coffee,” my mom says, taking a loaded dish bin out of my hands.

This is the truest thing anyone’s said to me all evening. I sit back down, not bothering to point out that her shift should’ve ended an hour ago.

“I’ve got this, Sonia.” Uncle Noah picks up where I left off busing. He’s been running back and forth between here and the kitchen all night. Now he lumbers from table to table a bit more slowly than usual, and I worry he needs a break more than I do. Aunt Elena’s always saying he pushes himself too hard.

When my mom comes back with a fresh pot of coffee and two mugs, I scoot to the end of the booth. “This place is a mess, I should—”

“Sit with me and talk.” She slides into the opposite side of the booth and hands me two creamers. “How’s school?”

This feels odd. My mom stopped asking about anything to do with academics after my first day of kindergarten. But the mention of school brings all my anxieties about Gretchen’s website and my scholarship back to the surface, and this is as good an opening as I’m ever going to get.

“Actually, I need to talk to you about that. . . .”

“Oh, great.” She smiles. “I want to know how you feel about finals. Are you prepared? Graduation is just a few weeks away.”

I wrinkle my brow, suspicious. “Why do you ask?”

She waves to the Tardiffs on their way out the door and takes a long sip of coffee. “I’m just trying to help, sweetie. You were really worried about losing your scholarship. I want to make sure you’re still on track.”

I don’t know how else to approach this. “Well, I’m not, exactly.”

“What’s going on?” She cocks her head, setting her mug down, and I’m disconcerted by the sudden fear that I’m going to disappoint her.

“I need to make a quick trip to Philadelphia on Monday,” I say, like it’s a run to get milk.

Her eyebrows shoot up. “A ‘quick’ trip?”

I sigh, staring down at a chip in the table. “A problem came up with my scholarship. I need to go have a meeting about it.”

She purses her lips. “And it has to be Monday?”

I nod.

“It’s so last minute. . . .” She looks at Noah wiping down the counter. “Do you know how long this meeting will take? I’ll have to make sure Elena can cover. If I can get us bus tickets tonight—”