Locust Lane(48)

Instead of heading straight home, Oliver had gone on a three-day drunken road trip that ended with him being pulled from a hump of crumpled, smoking steel by volunteer firemen using the Jaws of Life. The deep gash on his head had left him with a permanent scar. Four months later he enrolled at Dartmouth; four years after that he was at Harvard Law. But in many ways he was still driving that Gran Torino as fast as he could, putting as much distance as possible between himself and his father’s humiliation. Trying to atone for the corruption. Trying to become the man his father had only pretended to be.



* * *



Celia mounted the steps quietly. Jack’s door was shut. He hadn’t made a peep since returning from the station. She knocked once, then knocked more loudly. There was no response. She hadn’t walked in on him since that horrible incident when he was a freshman, but circumstances now seemed to warrant it. She twisted the knob and pushed the door open. He was sitting up in bed, his thumbs working his phone at a mile a minute, his head vised in noise-canceling headphones. She pointed to her ears and he removed the buds. The music that leaked from them sounded as if an enraged next-door neighbor was shouting at his children.

“We need to talk.”

“That’s all I’ve been doing recently.”

“Jack, that poor girl’s dead. You will speak as much as deemed necessary. And turn that dreadful music off.”

Shocked by his mother’s angry tone, he did as commanded.

“What was wrong with you yesterday morning? Why were you so upset when you came home from Hannah’s?”

“I wasn’t upset.”

“Jack, I swear, if you lie to me, I’m going to get your father up here.”

He closed his eyes and sighed and shook his head.

“I was tired. I’d been up all night taking care of Hanns.”

“Was she sick?”

“She’d taken something.”

“What?”

“It was supposed to be Molly. But I don’t think it was. It was really strong. She and Eden and Christopher took it.”

“Why would they do that?”

“To experience feelings of euphoria.”

“But you didn’t take any?”

“Of course not. I don’t need stuff like that.”

“Where did they get it? Was it Eden’s?”

“Yes,” he said after a moment’s hesitation.

Suddenly that sweet-faced girl didn’t seem so sweet.

“Did you tell the police this?”

He nodded.

“So your father knows?”

“I made him promise not to tell you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t want to have this conversation! Look, I shouldn’t have lied about it. Or where we were. It was just easier not to explain.”

“But how do you think that girl wound up dead?”

“Honestly? I think after we left Christopher made a move on her and she turned him down. He lost his shit and killed her.”

“But Christopher?”

“He was crazy when it came to her.”

“And now he’s blaming you.”

“It’s just all so messed up,” he said, on the point of tears now.

She hugged him, suddenly overwhelmed by guilt. Of course he hadn’t done anything. She couldn’t believe she’d entertained even a moment’s doubt. Jack’s lie was wrong but understandable. He didn’t want to get his girlfriend in trouble. For now, all that mattered was that her son was safe.

“Get some rest,” she said. “And turn the music down. You’re going to ruin your ears.”

Oliver was still on his conference call. At some point they’d need to discuss his not telling her about the drugs. She was getting tired of being cut out of things. The person she did need to talk to immediately was Alice. She must be going crazy with worry. She should know that what had been bothering Hannah in the middle of the night wasn’t as bad as it might now seem. She started to compose a text, but then saw the others she’d sent in the past twenty-four hours, all of them unanswered. Better just to drive over. They could have that coffee they’d put off yesterday.





ALICE


It had been an endless night, an agonizing mixture of good and bad. She was back with Michel, but only because his life had fallen apart. He wanted to be with her, but he was trapped in his house. Hannah wasn’t in any real trouble, but Christopher, the son of the man Alice loved, was being accused of murder. It was as if she were teetering between a life she’d always wanted and one she’d always feared.

She’d expected an inquisition when she returned from Michel’s, but Geoff was too preoccupied by what was happening to his daughter to notice anything amiss. In fact, he was being sweet. For him. He popped her a beer and split the roast turkey sandwich he’d just fixed himself. His normally impassive face was creased by worry. A surge of pity rose in her, dragging with it feelings of guilt.

“So,” he explained, “they were hanging out at the house this Eden girl was looking after. You remember her? She was the one who used to walk by here with the dog.”

“Yeah, I remember. Red hair, full of beans.”

“That’s how Hannah knew her. They just started talking one day out front. Evidently this was a regular thing, hanging out at the Bondurants’. Kids knew about it. But last night it was just the four of them. Turns out Christopher had a thing for Eden but she wasn’t interested. Anyway, Hannah and Jack left around midnight. Christopher stayed behind, presumably to press his case. The next morning she turns up dead and Christopher is behind bars.”