214 Palmer Street(64)

“If that’s true then the test we did for gunshot residue will show up on his hands and not yours, so you have nothing to worry about. In my experience, forensics always backs up the truth.”

She thought hard. “I’ll answer your questions, but I want to call someone to be with me while we talk.” Without waiting for permission, she grabbed her backpack and opened the outside pocket, taking out her phone.

“Of course. Whatever makes you feel more comfortable.”

With her finger poised over the phone, she thought about calling Phil and then discarded the idea. It was her first instinct, but she knew it was also a bad idea. He’d proven to be a good friend, and would come immediately, but how could she explain their friendship? Phil’s name hadn’t come up yet. Why get him involved at all? Instead, she dialed the number for the landline at her in-laws’ house and prayed they’d answer an unidentified number.

“I’m going to call Kirk’s parents,” she told the detective after dialing the number. “They need to know.”

On the sixth ring, Judy picked up. “Hello?” she answered cautiously.

Just hearing her voice made Sarah cry. Her throat constricting with emotion, she managed to get out the words: “Judy, it’s me. Sarah.”

“Sarah? Honey, what’s wrong?”

In between sobs, she said, “Can you and Bert come down to the police station? Something terrible has happened.” She reached for a tissue.

“What happened?” Judy asked, and Sarah, nearly choking from emotion, mutely handed the phone over to Clint.

“Ma’am? This is Detective Jackson. To whom am I speaking?” There was a pause and he said, “Judy Aden. You’re Kirk Aden’s mother?”

Sarah could hear Judy’s voice but couldn’t make out what she was saying.

“I’m here with your daughter-in-law at the police station on Renner Road. There was an incident earlier this evening and Sarah would like you to come down to the station.” He cleared his throat.

Again, Sarah heard murmuring from the other end of the conversation. Her heart sank when she made out Kirk’s name. Judy wanted to know if something had happened to her son.

The detective said, “I can’t disclose anything over the phone, but we can explain once you’ve arrived. Yes, I’ll tell her. Thank you. Goodbye.” He handed the phone back to her.

She felt her throat closing, but managed to ask, “What did she want you to tell me?”

“They love you and are coming right away.”

“You didn’t tell them about Kirk.” She dabbed her eyes with a tissue and now gave him her complete attention.

“You don’t give people news like that over the phone. Normally we’d have a pair of officers go to their home to tell them in person, but that hasn’t been arranged yet.”

“I see.” Sarah sat back and blinked. “When they get here, will you tell them?”

She couldn’t imagine saying the words to them, seeing their faces, and having them know she had a role in all of this. Their son was dead because she had to snoop around in the past. They would hate her; she was sure of it.

“If that’s what you want.”

Sarah wiped away tears. “I would appreciate it.”





FORTY-FOUR





FOUR MONTHS LATER





Answering a knock at the door, Sarah hesitated when seeing Stephanie Bickley standing across the threshold, her hands clasped together. “Mrs. Aden?” she said. “I’m sorry for dropping by unannounced. I would have called, but I didn’t have your number.” Despite her apologetic words, she stood tall, her hair braided in a single plait that rested on one shoulder, head held high. “Am I interrupting something?”

Only me changing the course of my life, Sarah thought wryly. The whole first floor of her house was stacked with moving boxes. At that very moment, Phil was in the kitchen, carefully wrapping plates in layers of bubble wrap. Because her new house was much smaller, she’d had to sort through her possessions judiciously. Choosing the furniture had been based on need and space, but the personal items were harder to select. It wasn’t as simple as deciding what brought her joy. The last few months had been so emotionally tumultuous that even her wedding photos—once a documentation of the happiest day of her life—had become tinged with grief.

Now Sarah stood face to face with someone else who’d suffered badly. If Stephanie was here to rehash the past, she wasn’t sure she could bear it. Her own load was too heavy. She couldn’t take on anyone else’s pain. “Actually, I’m in the middle of packing.”

“I see,” Stephanie said, but didn’t move. The last time Sarah had seen her had been at the police station. They’d both given statements to the police, but hadn’t spoken to each other. Sarah had been given a ticket for trespassing, but hadn’t been charged with staying in the Caldwells’ house, which would have been the more serious charge of breaking and entering. One police officer made a point to tell her she was lucky that way, but she didn’t feel lucky. She didn’t feel lucky at all.

Stephanie added, “It’s just that my mom wanted to meet you. To say thank you.” She gestured behind her and for the first time Sarah noticed a silver-haired woman in the passenger side of the parked car in her driveway. “I tried to tell her it would be awkward, but she just felt compelled to see you. She thought…” Stephanie closed her eyes for a moment and exhaled. “…it might bring you some comfort to know that you helped her. Helped us, I mean.”