The Last House on the Street(90)

My mother was shaking her head. “I’m so ashamed of you,” she said. “So disgusted! How could … ugh.” She shuddered. “I just don’t under—”

“It’s all right, Pat,” my father said, resting his hand on her shoulder. “She says it’s over. Let’s forget it happened. If Reed can forgive her, we can too.”

“Thanks, Daddy,” I said. I was amazed they seemed to believe me. I wasn’t sure about my brother. His eyes were narrowed and suspicious and I had the feeling he would have liked to take another swipe at Win. But I seemed to have come out of this on top. “Good night,” I said, and I turned and headed for the stairs wondering how I was going to get a message to Win to stay away on Thursday night.

We would have to work out another way to be together.





Chapter 43



KAYLA


2010

The light still glows in the woods by the time the police officer shows up. He’s very young and looks as though he spends all his free time at the gym. Although I’m disappointed that he’s not Sam, I’m relieved to have him next to me as I point through the trees toward the small white light. I give him the short version of my disconcerting conversation with the woman in my office and the kidnapping of my daughter, who is now safely sleeping upstairs.

“The woman left my little girl in this old tree house,” I say. “See that light in the distance? It’s coming from the tree house.”

“So you’re thinking it’s the redhead?” the officer asks quietly, as I guide him down the path from the deck. He lights the way with a flashlight.

“I don’t know what to think.”

We reach the trail that goes into the woods. Far ahead of us, the light glows. It looks like a star that fell into the trees.

“You go back on the deck,” he says. “I’ll check it out.”

I return to the deck and sit at the glass-topped table. The song of the cicadas quickly swallows the sound of his footsteps and I fold my hands on the cool glass, waiting. My body’s tense, fearing a gunshot. The longer I sit there, the more certain I feel that it’s the red-haired woman in the tree house. The officer will arrest her for … what? Trespassing? I don’t know. At the very least, he’ll take her to the hospital and they’ll give her a psychiatric evaluation and hopefully get her treatment in a nice, secure locked ward and I won’t have to think about her any longer.

I hear footsteps and voices and get to my feet. Soon I see light bobbing through the trees, but when the officer emerges from the woods, it’s Ellie walking next to him, not the redheaded woman. I hurry toward them.

“Ellie!” I say. “That was you up there? I had no idea!”

The light from my house is bright enough to let me know she’s been crying. She’s not wearing her glasses and her eyes are rimmed with red.

“I’m so sorry for trespassing, Kayla,” she says. “And I didn’t mean to scare you. I just remembered how lovely it is up there at night and I wanted to experience it again.”

I still feel unsettled by the thought of someone wandering around my property uninvited. “Well, if anyone deserves to be in that tree house, it’s you,” I say sincerely, in spite of my discomfort. I look at the officer, whose expression is confused. “Ellie and her brother and father actually built that tree house many years ago,” I say. “It’s fine.” Now I wish the officer would leave, but to his credit, he’s not entirely comfortable with the situation and he takes me aside.

“You’re sure you’re okay with her being on your land?” he asks. “She’s not the woman who threatened … who made a statement to you about killing someone?”

“Completely different person,” I say. “Really. I’m sorry you had to come out here. It’s okay.”

Once the officer leaves, Ellie apologizes again. “I’ll go home, now,” she says. “And again, I’m sorry for wrecking your peaceful night.”

I don’t want to let her go yet, not when she’s this upset. “Come in the house,” I say. “It’s my turn to make you some tea.”

She looks as though she might resist, but then she follows me into the house and I settle her at the kitchen island while I boil water. I find a box of chamomile in the pantry. I hold it up and she nods.

“Perfect,” she says. She watches me in silence as I turn on the burner beneath the kettle. Then she speaks again. “Those steps your husband built make it easy to climb up to the house,” she says. “Back in the day, we just had some boards nailed into the tree. They were a snap to climb up when I was young. Wouldn’t be so easy for—” She can’t finish the sentence. She covers her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking with her tears. I skirt the island and sit next to her.

“What is it, Ellie?” I ask. “Can you tell me?” I guess that her brother—or mother—has taken a turn for the worse. But that’s not it at all. She lowers her hands to her lap and then begins to speak, telling me more than I ever could have imagined.





Chapter 44



ELLIE


1965

There was no way for me to get word to Win not to come. I had no car to drive to Flint, and Daddy was keeping me working nearly day and night, anyway. There wasn’t enough time to get something to him by mail. I knew, deep down, that I was glad I had no way to reach him. I had to see him one more time. He would come and I would tell him then that it wasn’t safe for us to keep meeting. At least not for now. At least not on Hockley Street.