The Murder Rule(62)

Hannah fought the urge to tel him everything. She might have, if it had been her story to tel . If she could have trusted him. But maybe she could tel him something. Some measure of the truth. “My mother is an alcoholic,” she said flatly. “She’s been an alcoholic al of my life, since I was a very smal girl. She goes through stages where she has it together, stages where she fal s apart. It’s hard. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve taken care of her. I needed to get away. I needed to be by myself. So I took the transfer.”

Sean drew in a breath and let it out. “Is that the truth?” he asked.

“Yes.” Oh God. She’d intended to lie, to cover herself, but . . . was there some truth to what she’d just said? Had she left Orono, at least in part, because she couldn’t handle home anymore?

“Why the cancer story?”

“Because if I say cancer, people leave me alone. If I say I’ve left my alcoholic mother to fend for herself, people want to know more.

And I don’t want to talk about it.”

He looked away. “Then I’m sorry. I should have respected your privacy. I’m sorry for pushing. It was a shitty thing to do.”

Hannah nodded, swal owed her guilt, and they fel silent for a while. “I liked your mom,” she said. “She seems . . . it seems like she loves you a lot.”

“She’s pretty great,” Sean said quietly.

“My dad died too,” Hannah said. “Before I was born. I never got to meet him.”

Sean glanced at her. “That’s rough, Hannah.”

“Do you remember your dad?”

“Some. I have some real y clear, specific memories. Like, on my tenth birthday he gave me this whole talk about how doubledigit birthdays are real y important—that was a good one. The day I knocked the TV off the table and broke the screen. Man, was he pissed. I won’t forget that one in a hurry. And then other memories are a bit more confused—a kind of mishmash of lots of different days, you know, playing bal in the park down from our house, that kind of thing.” He was smiling.

“That sounds nice.” It was a while before Hannah spoke again.

“Your mom, she doesn’t seem angry about your dad dying. When she talks about him, she doesn’t seem angry.”

“Wel , she used to be, for sure. For a few years. But I started to get into trouble in school, you know, and I guess she realized that I was pretty angry too. Maybe a smal part of that was me realizing I was gay and not knowing how to handle it, but mostly it was that I was so angry about Dad. That’s when she started talking to me more about everything. About how carrying that kind of anger around wil poison your whole life. So we agreed to try to let it go, and for the most part we’ve been able to.”

Hannah nodded. “That’s good.” It was impossible not to compare his life with her own. Al her life she’d blamed their problems on her father’s death and Laura’s trauma. Things might have been different if they could have let some of their pain and anger go. Hannah shifted in her seat. It occurred to her that once things had been different. Before the diary, before she had found out the truth, the only person she’d been angry at was her mother.

“What about you? Your mom?”

“Not so much.”

THEY STAYED AT ANGIE CONROY’S INN. SHE WELCOMED

THEM warmly, and asked questions about the case that neither of them wanted to answer.

“Um, look, Angie, we real y want to keep a low profile while we’re here,” Hannah said. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention to anyone that we’re visiting.”

“Of course,” Angie said, managing to look offended. “We always respect our guests’ privacy.” She offered to help them with their bags, but they politely declined and climbed the stairs alone. Their bedrooms were adjoining, on the second floor.

“Meet you downstairs in ten minutes?” Sean asked. He was conciliatory, trying to make up for what he now saw as his insensitivity.

“Fine,” Hannah said. The nicer he was, the worse she felt. They went to their rooms, dropped their bags. Hannah took a moment to use the bathroom and brush her teeth, reapply her lip gloss. Sean was waiting when she came downstairs.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I’m not sure. Camila and I went to the Fitzhugh apartment when we were here last.” It suddenly struck her that there had been no warnings about Jerome Pierce for that trip.

Had something happened to make Parekh more concerned this time around? Or was it simply that they were closer to the trial and tensions were rising? “Maybe we should drive by Samuel’s grandparents’ house—not to stop, I think, but just to find out where it is in case that’s where we have to speak with him.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Sean said. “I don’t think that would go wel .”

“It’s stil worth knowing where it is,” Hannah insisted. “We know that Sam wil be coming from the house tonight when he goes out. If we can figure out where he’s going, then maybe we’l be able to work out his route, and catch him along the way.”

“I thought you were planning on crashing the party.”

Hannah shrugged. “I think we should, if we have no other option.