At the Quiet Edge(67)

Alex Bennick was here. He was really in this home, and that other guy wasn’t lying to his mom. Relief made his guts shiver like he was getting sick.

He picked up the pen. Josephine poked him in the back. Hard. He couldn’t look at her. He was too busy trying to control the tremble in his hand as he put down the fake name he’d already come up with. John Olson.

“Just through those double doors on the other side of the lounge!” the red-haired woman said as if she were biting back an Aw! at their adorableness. It was a welcome response, and he’d take it. He and Josephine probably were pretty adorable.

After a few steps in that direction, Josephine threw her arm over his shoulders to slow him down. “What are you doing?” she whispered fiercely.

“I’m going to see him.”

“Everett, this isn’t okay. You promised no more dangerous ideas.”

“This isn’t dangerous. I’m just going to talk to him in a public place. He’s an old man.”

She growled and let go of him. He heard her muttering behind him as he pushed through the double doors and then turned right out the glass door to the interior courtyard. Josephine didn’t follow.

He had only planned on proving whether Alex Bennick was here. But now that he knew he was so close, Everett couldn’t stop himself. He wanted answers. He wanted answers to something in his life.

He stepped out into birdsong and shade and let his eyes adjust for a moment before he recognized Alex Bennick’s round cheeks and balding head. Mr. Bennick sat alone at a table toward the left side of the garden. A few women sat chatting together toward the back, but otherwise it was quiet. Maybe no one wanted to sit with him because he was creepy and awful.

His knees trembled, but he walked toward the old man. “Mr. Bennick?” His voice cracked against the words.

The man’s caterpillar brows yanked down over pale eyes as he lifted his head. Everett’s gut tightened further and then twisted in on itself until he was only seconds away from changing his mind and racing for the door.

But then the man smiled. His whole scary face opened up with warmth, though Everett couldn’t tell if it was real or fake.

“Well, hello there,” Alex Bennick croaked.

“Hello,” Everett responded automatically.

“How is your school year going, young man? Do you like your teachers?”

“Um.” He glanced around before remembering he was alone. “Sure. They’re pretty good.”

“Let me guess . . .” The brows fell again, giving him a thundery look as he studied Everett. “Sixth grade?”

“Ha. Yeah, that’s right.”

“Haven’t lost my touch! I’m spot on ninety-nine percent of the time. So what can I do for you today, son?” When Everett just stared at him for a moment, Mr. Bennick said, “Sit down! Pull up a chair!”

Eyes wide, Everett thought about it for a long moment before deciding it was probably safe since there were still other people in the courtyard. He scraped a heavy chair over the stone tiles to sit at the small round table.

Mr. Bennick only smiled at him for a long while until Everett cleared his throat and steeled his spine. He could do this. He’d come this far, hadn’t he?

“Mr. Bennick . . . I wanted to ask you about this girl.” He unzipped his backpack and pulled out a picture of the last woman who’d gone missing. Marti Herrera had been only twenty-one, and her family had mounted a tireless campaign for information. He placed the grainy inkjet picture on the table, and the man’s face deflated from open friendliness to a darkness Everett couldn’t read. “Marti,” he said simply.

“Yes! That’s right. Marti Herrera. Did you know her?”

“Just a little. I worked for the school district, you know.”

“I know,” Everett answered. Still, goose bumps rose on his arms at the confirmation. “I thought . . . Well, I wondered if you might know anything about her disappearance.”

The man seemed lost in the picture that he now cradled in his hands, his eyes sad and watery. “She was a rude young lady,” he said, and the knot that had almost begun to loosen in Everett’s stomach snapped tight again. He felt himself edging back in his seat at the idea that this man would say something so harsh about a missing woman.

But then Mr. Bennick smiled and shook his head. “But she was smart as a whip and so, so funny. That was what teachers didn’t like about her, you know.” He chortled at some memory. “Lots of kids are rude, but Marti could get everyone laughing. No one wants rebellion in their classroom! Still, we worked out a deal to keep her in school, and she did finish. She graduated. Marti was a success story.”

“Until she disappeared?” Everett prompted, and Mr. Bennick’s smile melted again, sagging into that hangdog sadness.

“Yes. Just like the others.”

Everett leaned forward. “The others? Mr. Bennick . . .” He held his breath for a moment before daring to ask. “Do you know what happened to them?”

The old man drew himself up with sudden speed, sitting straight and pointing a finger at Everett. “Stay out of that mess, young man. It is not safe. You understand that? Why are you asking questions about this? It’s been too long.”

“She’s my cousin.” Everett spit out the prepared lie without hesitation. Heck, in this small town it could even be true. He wasn’t exactly sure who his dad’s family might be related to.