The Dry (Aaron Falk #1)(72)

“Gretchen, listen—”

“If anyone’s to blame, it’s Deacon himself,” she plowed on. “It’s his fault his daughter was unhappy enough to drown herself. He’s been looking for years for someone else to point the finger at.”

“You’ve really never doubted it was suicide?”

“No.” She looked surprised. “Of course not. Why would I?”

“Just asking. I know Ellie was acting a bit odd toward the end, keeping to herself a lot of the time. And there’s no question, living with Deacon must have been a nightmare. But I never realized she felt that hopeless. Certainly not enough to kill herself.”

Gretchen’s laugh was dry.

“God, you boys were blind. Ellie Deacon was miserable.”

Ellie threw her math book in her bag at the end of class. She’d started automatically copying down the homework from the board but stopped, her pen frozen. What was the point? She’d considered skipping school altogether today but in the end had reluctantly decided against it. It would only draw attention to her. And she didn’t need any of that. It was better to do what she always did. Keep her head down and hope for—well, if not the best, then not the worst either.

Out in the crowded corridor a group of boys jostled around a portable radio, listening to the cricket. Australia versus South Africa. A six prompted a cheer. Friday afternoon and all was well. They had that weekend glow already.

How long, Ellie wondered, had it been since she’d felt like that? She honestly couldn’t remember. If weekdays were bad enough, the weekends were even worse. They stretched out interminably, the end seeming like it was always just over the horizon.

Not this weekend, though. She cradled the thought in her chest as she pushed her way down the corridor. After this weekend, everything would be different. This weekend had an end firmly in sight.

Still clouded in thought, Ellie jumped as someone grabbed her arm. It caught a small bruise, and she winced at the pressure.

“Hey. Where’s the fire?” Luke Hadler looked down at her.

“What do you mean?” Falk stared at Gretchen.

“You know what I mean, Aaron,” she said. “You were there. You saw exactly the same things I did. How weird she was in those last few weeks. When she actually spent any time with us, that is. She was hardly around. She was always working at that crappy job, or—well, I don’t know what. Not hanging around with us, anyway. And she’d completely stopped drinking, do you remember? She said it was to lose weight, but with the benefit of hindsight that sounds like bullshit.”

Falk nodded slowly. He did remember that. He’d been surprised because she’d probably been fonder of the booze than the rest of them. Not entirely surprising given her family line.

“Why do you think she’d stopped?”

Gretchen gave a sad shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe she didn’t trust herself with alcohol. Wasn’t sure what she might do. And I hate to say it, but Luke had a point, that night when we had that big argument at the lookout.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t mean he was right to trick us,” she said hastily. “That was a horrible move. But what he said about Ellie not being able to take a joke anymore. He shouldn’t have said it, but it was true. She really couldn’t. She didn’t have to laugh at that stupid stunt, obviously, but by then she wasn’t laughing at anything. She was always sober and serious and disappearing off on her own. You remember.”

Falk sat in silence. He did.

“And I think—” Gretchen stopped.

“Think what?”

“I think if you’re honest with yourself, you’ve suspected for a long time now that Ellie Deacon was abused.”

Ellie pulled her arm out of Luke’s grip and rubbed the mark. He didn’t seem to notice.

“Where are you racing off to? You want to go into town and get a Coke or something?” Luke’s voice was overly casual. Ellie had lost count of the number of times he’d tried to engineer one-on-one time with her since the fight at the lookout. So far she’d always brushed him off. It had occurred to her that he might be trying to apologize, but she couldn’t summon the energy or interest to find out. That was Luke through and through, she thought. You had to put yourself out even to get an apology from the guy. Anyway, even if she wasn’t still pissed off with him, today was never going to be his lucky day.

“I can’t. Not now.”

She deliberately didn’t apologize. She did wonder briefly if she should try to bury the hatchet, for old times’ sake. They’d known each other for years. There was history there. Then his face clouded, and by the sulky way he looked at her she knew it wasn’t worth the effort. Ellie Deacon had had enough men in her life who wanted more from her than they gave back. She didn’t need another. She turned away. Better to forget it. Luke Hadler was who he was, and that would never change.

Falk looked down as guilt and regret swelled in his chest. Gretchen reached out and touched his arm.

“I know it’s not easy to admit,” she said. “But the signs were there. We were just too young and self-centered to read them.”

“Why didn’t she tell us?” Falk said.

“Maybe she was scared. Or felt a bit embarrassed, even.”