The Silent Sister(70)

Celia smiled at the road in front of them. “Yeah, I know,” she said. “For me, it’s all about the people in the church. Taking care of each other, you know what I mean?” She glanced at Jade again. “I love my church. If any single one of those people you saw there today had a problem or a crisis, everyone else would reach out to help.”

That wasn’t the church Jade remembered from her childhood. When her family had a crisis—the crisis she’d brought on them—no one reached out to lend a hand. Instead, they pushed them away.

That night, after Celia fell asleep, Jade went out on the balcony bundled up in a quilt and looked out over the city. The air was cool and misty and she could see the lights of Portland below. Everything looked so beautiful. She felt choked up. Celia was the best person she’d ever known. The kindest, warmest, smartest—and sexiest—person ever. And she was in love with Jade.

But Celia didn’t know her. She didn’t know Jade was a liar and a fake. Would she still love her if she knew? Jade would never be able to put that question to the test.





34.

Riley

As soon as Christine arrived the following morning, I left the house for a run. I’d timed it that way. Every minute away from Christine was a good minute. But as soon as I descended the porch steps, the Kyles’ old Ford pulled up to the curb in front of my house.

Oh, no, I thought. I’d wanted an hour’s peace. Was that too much to ask?

The passenger side window of the car rolled down and I could see it was Verniece rather than Tom in the driver’s seat.

“Riley, dear!” Verniece called, all sweetness and light. “Can we talk for a minute?”

I stood with my hands on my hips. I looked behind me at the house, knowing Jeannie would show up any minute and wouldn’t be happy to find Verniece there. Crossing the lawn, I pulled the car door open and got in. After hearing bits and pieces of Verniece’s argument with Tom the previous day, the older woman no longer gave me that warm cuddly feeling.

“We can’t talk here,” I said. “There’s too much going on.”

“Oh, that’s fine.” Her voice shook the way it had that first morning, when she told me how my so-called adoption had inspired them to adopt their son. She put the car in gear and gave it a little gas. “How about we find a shady spot to sit by the water? It’s too hot to stay in the car.”

“Fine,” I said. “What’s going on?”

She ignored my question, seemingly focused on her driving, and I didn’t press. I would find out soon enough.

She parked in the lot near Union Point Park and we sat on a bench in the shade of a couple of trees. I looked toward the river. In the distance a couple of kayakers paddled slowly away from shore.

“This is really hard for me,” Verniece said. “Extremely hard. I feel like I’m under Tom’s control, sometimes.” She shrugged. “Embarrassing to admit that, but that’s the way it is.”

Spit it out, I thought. The fact that I could no longer trust her made me angry. Since my arrival in New Bern, Verniece had been the one person I thought I could count on to have my best interests at heart. I’d been wrong. No one in this town had my best interests at heart.

She waited for me to respond to what she’d said, and when I didn’t, she nervously plowed ahead.

“First, I have to get your promise that you won’t tell your brother what I’m going to tell you,” she said.

“I can’t promise that,” I said.

“Please, Riley. There’s information you should know, but if you tell Danny and he tells … anyone, well, frankly, it will ruin my life. Mine and Tom’s. And I didn’t tell you this before, but I’m very ill.” She looked at me. “Heart disease.” She laid her palm flat against her chest. “I’m looking at open heart surgery soon, and all this is taking a toll on my health.” When I didn’t respond, she continued. “You probably wonder why I stay with a difficult old coot like Tom,” she said. “I’m sure it’s hard for someone like you to understand. You’re young and healthy with marketable skills, but I have none of those qualities. So I put up with what I have to to survive.”

I nodded in spite of my desire to remain cool and detached from her this morning. I understood what she was saying. Probably a lot of women her age were in the same boat.

“All right,” I said. “Just tell me what you want.”

“Okay.” She took in a deep wheezy breath and I thought she might be telling me the truth about her heart. “I know this will sound terrible … it is terrible,” she began, “but Tom is desperate. Well, we both are, I guess.” She laughed nervously. “The thing is, Tom knows more about your sister’s … disappearance than he was letting on yesterday. I don’t know all what he knows,” she added quickly, “just that he wasn’t telling you and your brother the truth.”

“Her disappearance?” I said. “You mean, he knows for certain she didn’t kill herself?”

Verniece nodded, and my own heart skipped a beat. “That’s what he says,” she said. “And he told me to let you know”—the corner of her mouth twitched—“that he’ll tell you where she is in exchange for the deed to the RV park.” She looked toward the river instead of at me so she didn’t see the shock in my face.