The Night Shift(44)

Jesse.

Twenty minutes later, Ella’s sitting in her parked car at the curb in front of Parke Landscaping.

“What do you think you’re doing, Eloise?” Ella says aloud, mimicking her mother’s voice.

How many times has Phyllis asked her this? Too many to count. Along with What are you wearing, Eloise? Why are you living like a pauper, Eloise?

She gets out of the car, her head floating a little from taking another pill.

The office is a small structure, not much bigger than a two-car garage. She takes a breath before going in. The door swings open unexpectedly. Two men in the same company shirts from the website photo smile at Ella as they walk toward a truck that has a trailer loaded with mowers, rakes, and bags of mulch.

Ella catches the door and steps through. A man sitting at a desk doing paperwork looks up at her.

“Can I help you?” He smiles. Good teeth. Dimples. The kind of teacher Ella might have swooned over back in the day.

“Hi. I’m Ella Monroe.”

“Hi,” he says back, still smiling.

“This is going to sound weird,” Ella says. “But I’m a therapist. And one of my clients is the survivor of the attack at the ice cream store in Linden. You may have heard about it?”

His smile fades, but he seems curious.

“My client, she’s a high school student. You used to work at Middlesex East, right?”

Now the smile is gone.

“Yeah, I used to teach—before I decided to become my own boss.” He smiles, gestures around. It’s rehearsed. An explanation at the ready, in case he’s asked why he left the school. “But I don’t understand how I can help with your—”

“Jesse Duvall,” Ella interrupts. “She’s the survivor.”

Parke’s face turns dark. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Please, I’m just trying to understand what happened, why she left your school, so I can help her.”

“Go!” He’s on his feet now, finger stabbing at the door.

Ella has a choice to make. There’s a quote she’s always loved. She can’t remember who said it. Speak the truth, even if your voice shakes. She decides she’s going to stand her ground even if her voice shakes.

“I’m going to call the police if you don’t leave.” Parke yanks his desk phone and puts it to his ear.

Ella takes a deep breath. Then: “Go for it.” Her voice isn’t shaking.

This prompts a befuddled look. “What? Look, please just go.”

“Just so you know, if the police come, I might have to mention some rumors I’ve heard about why you really left Middlesex. Maybe talk to some of your crew, the other business owners nearby.”

Parke looks defeated now.

“I just want some information,” Ella says. “I’ll keep it off the record. I’m just trying to help Jesse. Trying to understand her.”

Parke puts the phone back in the cradle. “You have your work cut out for you.”





CHAPTER 38





“Jesse has a high IQ. Mature for her age,” the former teacher says.

Ella feels her skin crawl. The justification of the older man. Chad Parke is in his late twenties so the gap is not a gulf. But he knows better. Particularly with a vulnerable girl who’s bounced around foster homes and is possibly looking for parental figures.

Parke sinks into his office chair, a distant look in his eyes. “She worked on the school paper and she’s a talent. Better than most cub reporters at major newspapers.”

Ella listens patiently, figuring he needs to work his way up to the damning part. Start with the rationalizations.

“I tried to help her. You know, took her under my wing. Tried to get her internships at local papers. Talked to some contacts at a couple of colleges about getting her a scholarship.”

He goes on like this. After a few minutes of babbling, delaying, justifying, Ella finally decides to cut to it. Decides to say it for him so he doesn’t have to: “And then the relationship turned into something more.”

“No,” he says emphatically. “She’s just a kid.”

Ella makes a skeptical face.

“You don’t have to believe me. No one else did either.”

“What happened?”

Parke’s jaw pulses. Finally, he says, “It started off with the school newspaper. Me editing her pieces, giving feedback on story pitches, like I did with all my students. But, like I said, she’s talented, so I probably gave her more attention. She joined the Culture Club, which I supervised. I used to take the kids—I tried to focus on kids without involved parents—on field trips to the city. I mean, New York’s a short drive away, yet many kids have never been there. I’d take them to the Met, to plays, try to expose them to the world.” He stops, thinking. “She has this way of making you forget she’s a kid. Like she’s a friend, instead.”

That part rings true to Ella. She lets him continue.

“I started to get concerned, you know, that she was misreading things. So I made sure to always have someone around when we were in the same space at school. Stopped doing things off-campus with the students. Made it clear I was engaged. But then she starts running into me places. At my gym. Then the coffee shop near my apartment. Then I start getting weird Facebook requests from people I didn’t know.”