The Overnight Guest(30)

Wylie rinsed the plates and placed them in the dishwasher. “Okay, then. I’ll start,” Wylie said when the boy didn’t answer.

Wylie looked up at the ceiling and tapped her chin as if deep in thought. She wanted to come up with an easy question. One that wouldn’t be too personal. “What’s your favorite color?” Wylie asked. No answer.

Wylie decided to try a different tack. “Well, Wylie,” Wylie said with a childish lilt to her voice. “My favorite color is blue. How about you?”

Wylie returned to her regular voice. “Now isn’t that a coincidence? My favorite color is blue too.”

Wylie looked at the boy for some kind of reaction but he just stared back at her blankly. Maybe he didn’t speak English, or maybe there was a physical reason he couldn’t talk. Or he was just scared shitless.

Wylie sighed. “Well, I can tell you about me, I guess. You’ve met Tas. Do you have a dog?” Wylie paused for just a moment, not expecting an answer, and then launched into her next question.

“My favorite TV show is Dateline. What’s yours,” Wylie asked as she refilled the boy’s glass with milk.

The boy snatched a grape from the bowl and took an experimental nibble. Had he never eaten a grape either? Wylie wondered.

The boy wouldn’t even look at her.

Wylie threw up her hands. The boy flinched at the movement. “I just wish you would tell me your name. That’s it, your name. Why is that so hard?” she asked.

The boy considered this and looked as if he might speak but instead clamped his mouth shut.

More alarms began to go off in Wylie’s head. She knew that she gave the boy very little reason to trust her, but she had saved him from freezing to death. What could be so bad that he couldn’t even utter his name or his parents’ names? What kinds of secrets was this child keeping and why?



17


August 2000

“It’s Matthew Ellis,” Matthew called out with a shaky voice.

“We got a call about a shooting,” Sheriff Butler said, lowering his weapon warily. At his side was Deputy Levi Robbins, who’d pulled down the lane just after the sheriff.

“That was me,” Matthew said. His next sentence was unintelligible, and the sheriff had to ask him to repeat it. “My daughter and her husband are dead,” Matthew repeated, his voice strangled with tears. “There’s blood everywhere,” he cried, looking at the sheriff desperately. “Everywhere.”

Josie, still behind him, pressed her face into his back. “They shot Josie too,” Matthew said, wiping his eyes with a handkerchief he pulled from his back pocket.

“We’ve got help coming. Let me take a look,” Butler said. Josie remained behind her grandfather.

“It’s okay, Shoo,” Matthew said, moving aside so that the girl came into view. “They’re here to help.”

Levi gave a low whistle. He didn’t understand how the girl could still be standing. Josie swayed on her feet, and her grandfather grabbed her uninjured arm and guided her to the truck’s running board where she sat.

“Don’t worry, honey, an ambulance is on its way,” the sheriff assured her. “You said they shot Josie. There was more than one person?”

Matthew leaned against the truck to steady himself. “I don’t know. I don’t know who did this.”

“You think they’re gone?” The sheriff’s eyes scanned the property.

“I didn’t see anybody else in the house,” Matthew said. “Aww, Jesus, it’s bad. It’s really, really bad.”

“You went inside?” Butler asked.

Matthew nodded. “I found Lynne in her bedroom and William in Josie’s room. I don’t know where my grandson is.” A new wave of tears overtook him.

“We have to make sure the house is clear before we send the EMTs inside,” the sheriff said apologetically. “You understand that, don’t you, Matthew?”

“Not much you can do for them now,” Matthew whispered.

Josie reached up and tugged on his shirtsleeve. “Don’t say that, Grandpa. They have to try,” she insisted. “They can take them to the hospital and make them better.” Josie cried, her tears carving a path down her dirty face.

“You let us take care of things now, darling,” Sheriff Butler said in a low soothing voice.

“I need you to move away from the house now,” the sheriff said. “Let us do our job now.” He and Levi needed to view the crime scene then secure it. For all they knew, the perpetrator was still inside the house. And there was the outside chance that one or more of the victims was still alive. Precious seconds were being lost. Seconds that could never be retrieved.

The sun had already burned away the morning moisture. With a sweat-slicked hand, Matthew held Josie by the elbow as she limped over to the old maple tree and sat beneath its green canopy to wait. The sheriff and Levi moved cautiously through the back door, weapons drawn.

The next moments passed in a hazy blur. More deputies arrived, and Matthew once again told them what he knew.

The cry of an oncoming ambulance filled the air and Matthew joined Josie beneath the maple tree. He wrapped his arms around his granddaughter, being careful to avoid her injured arm, and Josie buried her face in his shoulder, inhaling the scent of tobacco mixed with the harsh detergent used to wash his work clothes.