Sweet Water(79)

“Because Finn had different drugs in his joint than Yazmin did. This is a message from Alton.” He waves his phone in our faces. “The toxicology report is in. It takes a couple of days for toxicology to get the results back because we don’t have the same ins at the morgue—”

“What a shame.” I cut him off, not the slightest bit amused by his unlawful legal connections or what he can do with them. “It’s too bad you don’t have money in the pockets of the coroner too.”

Finn stares at me fearfully. “Why would mine be different?”

He’s scared of being doped up, and I’m scared for him.

“Finn, did you tell anyone what we found in your tox screen?” Martin asks.

Finn shakes his head no.

“Remember, Grandma did that blood draw, not the cops. They never asked you for your blood sample because you’d already admitted to smoking marijuana. And thank goodness for that. By now, I’m assuming the drugs have passed through your system.”

How long does meth stay in your system? Shouldn’t that be Martin’s bigger fucking worry—the effects to his son’s body from the drugs he was slipped rather than the cops finding out he smoked them? And might those effects cause him to have a violent episode where he killed this girl? Does Martin even care if his son is a murderer? Or is it okay as long as he doesn’t get caught? I’m having that awful moment in my marriage that divorced people talk about when they look at their spouse and ask the definitive question—what did I ever see in you?

“Yeah, I remember. I haven’t talked to anyone, Dad, because you haven’t let me. You took away my phone and unhooked the internet.”

Martin took Finn’s phone and unplugged the router? WTF. Prisoners. We’re all prisoners, and I need to break us out.

“Right. Well, good.” Martin looks disgustingly satisfied, breathing deeply, smoothing his sweaty hands on his jeans, but I’m failing to find the positive in this.

“Martin, why is this good? Why was Finn drugged, and how did Yaz die? What did the report say?”

He flips through a Xeroxed paper in his hand, and I’m disgusted that he likely hasn’t even checked her cause of death. “Blunt-force trauma to the head,” he says, as if he’s reading a tax return.

I stare at him, shocked.

“She was drugging our son, Sarah, and she apparently didn’t want him to remember why, because she gave him roofies.”

I gasp.

“That can’t be true,” Finn protests.

“Who rolled the joints, Finn? Who handed them out?” Martin asks, fingers in his gelled hair.

“She did,” he says.

“She knew what she was giving you, Finn. I don’t know what she planned to do with you in those woods. Hell, maybe she did do something to you and no one knows, but I’m not sure we should be so eager to find out how she died, because she had bad intentions. It’s time we move past this. It was a terrible thing that happened to you. You made a bad decision dating her, got wrapped up with the wrong girl. We’ll learn from it.”

“Ha! That’s it?” I fan out my fingers and swoosh my hands over one another as if to say, “Wipe our hands clean of it.” As if it makes Finn’s involvement in her death go away because they were her drugs. “What about what happened after they took the drugs?”

“Sarah, this girl was not who Finn thought she was. We are good people. We were all good people before this girl waltzed in and drugged our son and tore everything apart.”

“Well, sometimes you have to tear up the garden to find the weeds!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

“It means I’m going to stay with my father until you decide what matters more to you—your precious secrets or your family. This family.” I make a circle with my hands. “Because by keeping secrets, we ruin the family, Martin. It’s time to come clean. For all of us. You too, Finn.” I point at him, and he shrinks away.

“Oh, that’s rich! Your dad has secrets too, Sarah.” His smile is self-righteous, and if Finn wasn’t standing there, I’d knock it right off his face. I know all my dad’s secrets now.

“Not as many as you, Martin.”

I might as well have slapped him, because he loses his haughty grin fast and doesn’t stop me when I walk straight across the hall to our master bedroom and pack my suitcase. My dad said I was welcome anytime, but he’s expecting me tonight. I pack my bag with as much shit as it can hold and slam our wedding photo down on the dresser.

Martin opens his mouth to say something, but words fail to form. I know he wants to know one thing—how much do I know?

“I always liked Nurse Patty. You know, the nurse at Health Services at CMU who your dad paid off. Her replacement was mean, and I dreaded when I got sick because she was stingy with the cough drops. Too bad you had to take her out too.”

Finn is looking down at his feet, the same way he did when I asked him to stay for a snack when Yazmin had wanted to leave. It’s clear his allegiance is no longer with me, and I fear I’ve lost him to the Ellsworths forever.

“Don’t leave, Sarah. Your family needs you right now. You can’t walk out on us!” Martin yells.

“Then make us whole again, Martin. Turn us in. Do the right thing this time!”