What Lies in the Woods(50)

“I’m hoping to ask you a couple questions,” Ethan said, and introduced himself with a polished spiel. We’d decided on the way over to let him take the lead, make like this was all a project of his. It was easier to explain than my own interest.

“What kind of questions?” Dad asked. He was looking at me. Wondering why I’d brought this into his house.

“Do you remember a girl named Jessi Walker? It’s possible she was going by a different name,” Ethan said. He held out his phone with the photo of Jessi pulled up.

Dad stared down at it long enough that I knew he’d recognized her. “Why are you asking about this girl?” he asked. He didn’t take his eyes off her picture. The phone screen idled, turned off.

“She apparently went missing around here in the time frame that Stahl was killing. I’ve been trying to identify potential unknown victims.”

“Jessi with an i,” Dad said musingly. “I knew her, but Alan Stahl didn’t kill her. She just left town. You knew her, too.” He nodded his chin at me.

“I thought I recognized her,” I said. “But I don’t remember why.”

“She worked at the Chester Diner. Waitress. She always made sure they gave you an extra pancake. Said you reminded her of her niece,” Dad said. I tried to reach back to the memory, but everything before eleven was ragged at the edges.

“You said she left town. Do you know where she went?” Ethan asked.

“No, I don’t. I know she said she was leaving and then she was gone. She was a waitress. We didn’t pour our hearts out to each other,” Dad replied. “You think she got killed?”

“She was reported missing. She hasn’t been seen since,” Ethan said smoothly. “Is there anyone else who might have known her better? Known where she was going, maybe?”

“Eh. She was a kid. I didn’t socialize with her,” Dad said. “And it was a long time ago.”

“Do you have any idea who she might have hung around with?” I pressed. “Come on, Dad. It’s important.”

“Why?” he asked. “He’s nosy, that’s why he gives a shit, but you?”

“I’m just helping out,” I said, setting my jaw.

He grunted. Looked at Ethan. “You sleep with her yet?”

Ethan’s face reddened. “That’s not—”

“Leave him alone, Dad,” I said warningly.

“Don’t go thinking it makes you special if she does. It’s like a handshake with this girl,” Dad said.

“For fuck’s sake, Dad—”

He gave an exaggerated shrug. “Nothing wrong with it. Just think the boy ought to know what he’s getting into.”

“All right. We’re leaving,” I said, turning. At least we’d confirmed that Jessi had been in Chester.

“Oscar Green,” Dad said. My head whipped back toward him. “She hung around with Oscar Green. That’s all I remember.”

“Thank you,” Ethan said quickly. He touched my shoulder with the very tips of his fingers, propelling me toward the door. I let him, stalking forward and not stopping until I heard the door shut behind me. Then I turned on Ethan, clamping my teeth down over anger that wasn’t meant for him.

“I should just burn that fucking house down to the ground and be done with it,” I growled.

“I take it you and your dad don’t really get along,” Ethan said mildly.

I laughed. “You could say that.”

“Cassidy’s book wasn’t very flattering in its portrayal of him,” he noted.

“He was pissed about that, but he got a big enough cut of the money that he didn’t say anything,” I said.

“The Greens split the royalties?” Ethan asked, sounding a bit surprised. “Even though you didn’t cooperate?”

“I think they felt guilty about profiting off the whole thing,” I said. “Or maybe it was just preemptive defense against bad publicity, making it all about the girl who didn’t get stabbed.”

“Cassidy did seem to be the one who came out of the experience relatively unscathed,” Ethan said.

“It looks that way, doesn’t it?” I asked. “But she was just as damaged as me and Liv. She’s better at hiding it, but it’s there.”

“How well do you know her brother?” Ethan asked.

“Oscar.” His name was like a bit of gristle between my teeth. “He’s an asshole.”

“Sounds like there’s a story or two behind that assessment.”

I didn’t answer. Remembered T-shirt fabric rucking up against my ribs, fingertips digging into my skin.

“Is he in town? Should we talk to him?” Ethan asked.

I hesitated. “Look—I’m tired, Ethan. Can we just pause for a second?” It was too much. The house. Dad. Persephone, transformed from an immortal goddess into a girl with bad taste in friends. A girl who had existed in the realm of memories I would give anything to excise. The version of my childhood that wasn’t full of dragons and potions and fairy circles. The one that was cruel and ugly and mundane.

“Yeah. Sorry. We can head back,” Ethan said. I nodded, relieved. He didn’t move right away, his dark eyes searching mine. I tugged my gaze away, marched to the car.