River Bodies (Northampton County #1)(54)

She nodded her head once—a small movement, but one he acknowledged.

“This isn’t the first time either, you know. I’ve been filling in these holes all over the yard. She’s got to stop. Train her or something,” he said, lowering his voice to a more reasonable decibel. “I’m going to fix this.” He pointed to the dirt pile. “But it better not happen again. Do you hear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, go on. And get that dog out of here. She’s got to learn she’s not allowed to dig up my yard.”

Becca worked with Sheba over the next few weeks, hiding Sheba’s favorite toys in the ground at the edge of the woods near the base of an oak tree. Over time, Sheba learned to dig in that one spot, thrilled to see which toy she would discover. And she didn’t dig up Becca’s father’s precious yard again.



Becca shook her head at the memory, wondering what in the world had made him so obsessed with his yard. “It’s about image,” her mother had told her. It had been during the spring of Becca’s junior year in high school. “And it’s about control. If he can keep his yard looking good, the sparkling image of happiness, then he believes everything else in his life is good and under control.”

“You know that sounds crazy, right?” Becca had said.

Her mother had smiled a wicked smile. “It does sound crazy, doesn’t it?”

It had been one year later, on the morning Becca had been packing, her senior year at the boarding school in Philadelphia ending, that she’d spied her mother’s suitcases in the trunk of the car.

“I got an apartment right here in Philly,” her mother had said. “Just someplace for me to stay for a little while.”

“I don’t understand.” Becca had rented a room on campus where she’d enrolled in a summer class before college officially started in the fall.

“I’m leaving your dad,” she’d said as a matter of fact, no emotion in her tone. “I finally reached a point where I had enough. A person can only take so much. And besides, you’re all grown up now, starting college. You have your own life. There’s no longer anything left for me there, not with you gone.”

She hadn’t had to ask why or what her mother had been waiting for. It had been clear she’d been waiting for Becca to grow up, to leave home for good and start her own life, so she could be free.

“What about Dad?” she’d asked, for the first time worrying about what might happen to him.

“He has his yard,” her mother had said.



Becca grabbed one of the plastic bags from the Jeep. She closed the door, walked around to the side of the house, picked up Romy’s poop. By the time she returned to the garage in search of the garbage can, a car had pulled into the driveway. It wasn’t just any car but a spotless black luxury sedan. She froze, unable to move, watching as Matt parked and got out of his BMW.

“Becca,” he said in a breathless way.

She’d almost forgotten how beautiful he was—his shiny black hair, his perfect teeth, his eyes the color of the bluest sky, his perfectly sculpted shoulders and chest. Romy darted from the backyard, barking and jumping around Matt’s feet.

“Hello, girl,” he said, bending down and petting the dog. “Did you miss me? I missed you.” When his reunion with Romy was over, he stood and stared at Becca. He slowly made his way over to her.

She allowed him to envelop her. He held her close, tight, the smell of his cologne familiar and oh, so good. And still she kept her arms by her sides, the bag full of dog poop in her hand.

“I missed you so much,” he said.

They separated.

She looked into his blue eyes. She could lose herself in those eyes. “How did you find me?” She was sure she hadn’t mentioned her father’s address.

“It wasn’t that hard. There’s only one Clint Kingsley in Portland.” He stuffed his hands inside the pockets of his ironed jeans. “I didn’t realize he lived so close. It only took me fifteen minutes to get here.”

“How’s Lucky?” she asked. “You’re taking good care of her, right?”

For a moment he had a blank expression on his face as though he had no idea who she was talking about. “Oh, yeah,” he said finally.

“Matt,” she said, alarmed. “You are feeding her, aren’t you? And changing her litter?”

“Of course.”

She didn’t know if she believed him.

“I am,” he said more convincingly.

“Becca,” Jackie called from inside the garage.

“Out here,” she said.

“I thought I heard a car pull up.” Jackie looked at Matt.

Becca introduced them. When she didn’t try to explain to Jackie who Matt was or how she knew him, Matt jumped in.

“Becca and I live together.” He faltered. “We’re together. She didn’t mention me?” He gave Becca a strange look.

“Yes, of course she did. Please come in,” Jackie said and glanced at Becca, giving her a look that said, Why didn’t you tell me? She took Matt’s arm and led him inside the house.

Reluctantly, Becca followed behind, tossing the bag of shit she was holding into the garbage can. Romy raced past, almost knocking her over, rushing to get through the door first, taking her place on the floor in the kitchen by Matt’s side.