I was about to go back to the trailer when I heard a noise not far away. The closer I listened to it, the louder it became. I had no idea where it was coming from. It seemed to be disembodied, floating over the trees, landing on me like the sheets of snow.
Music.
Someone was playing music deep in the forest. I could even recognize what it was. “Stairway to Heaven.”
Breezy had heard music ten years ago, too. She’d stood at the diner counter and talked about music playing half the night and keeping her awake. We’d both assumed it was coming from the Gruders, but listening to the music now, I realized how sound can play tricks on your ears. What Breezy heard could easily have come from somewhere else, like a pickup truck with its radio on, in the overgrown field of an abandoned resort.
I listened to the mysterious music and felt a crushing sense of guilt. Breezy had told me about the music she’d heard back then, and I’d completely missed the clue. I’d never given a thought to the idea that the music might have been connected to Jeremiah. I could have gotten in my cruiser and gone out there and saved him. The boy would still be alive. Instead, here we were.
The song in the forest called to me like a Pied Piper. I had to know where it was coming from and who was playing it. I headed back to the trailer and got in my cruiser. I took off down the dirt road, plowing and swerving through the drifts of fallen snow. When I reached the T-intersection, I stopped and got out of the car and listened. Where Will Gruder lived, down the driveway to the left, the forest was silent. The music was coming from the other direction.
From Mittel Pines.
I kept driving. My headlights lit up the old road sign that was a like a headstone for the resort. My windshield wipers dragged aside snow and ice. I could see ruts chewed through the powder, already being filled in by fresh snow.
Someone had driven here before me.
I went slowly, but I got stuck twice and had to use a shovel from the trunk to dig a path for my tires. It took me almost half an hour to drive two miles.
When I got there, I found a car parked at the dead-end turnaround for the resort. I didn’t recognize it, but it was an Escalade about the size of Canada, with a bumper sticker that said Repent in red letters. I got out of my cruiser and shined a flashlight on the Escalade’s interior, but it was empty. I could still hear the music, loud and close now, coming from the field where we’d searched the old cabins. There was supposed to be a deputy here guarding the scene, but I wondered if Adam had pulled him because of the blizzard.
I ducked under the police tape. One set of footprints showed me the way. I followed them through the trees until the trail opened up at the resort meadow. Snow poured from the night sky. In the field, the footprints had already been erased, but I could see the glow of a light inside one of the cabins that was still standing. Music boomed around me like a rock concert, covering my approach. I hiked toward the cabin through deep drifts.
A whiff of cigarette smoke soured the air as I got closer. The cabin windows were shattered and empty. There was no door. I inched toward the rotting wall and peered inside and saw a girl in a Lotus position on a moldy, moss-covered mattress. She had a lantern next to her. Her eyes were closed. Her boots were on the wet floor. A cigarette hung from her mouth, and as I watched, she pinched it between her fingers and exhaled smoke without opening her eyes. She wore jeans, heavy wool socks, and a blue bubble coat that had once belonged to me.
It was Anna.
When I went inside the cabin, the crunch of my shoes on broken glass alerted her. Her eyes shot open, first with fear, then with irritation as she recognized me. I shouted at her to turn off the music, but she didn’t, so I grabbed her phone myself and switched off the sound that fed her speakers.
The resort went silent. My heart beat more slowly. I heard the hiss of wind and snow.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I told her quietly. “This is a crime scene. We’re still searching for evidence.”
“I didn’t touch anything.”
“No? What about that cigarette? The FBI will find it, bag it, and waste time running DNA on it.”
“Fine. I’ll pick up my butts. Okay? Will that make you happy?”
I didn’t want to get in another argument with her. This girl meant more to me than anyone in the world other than my father, and I had basically thrown her out of my house and told her she was worthless. Me. The woman who was supposed to be her guardian angel.
“What are you doing out here, Anna?”
“Nothing. I’m not doing anything.”
“No Bible reading tonight?”
“Why bother? God’s not here. He left Jeremiah to die in this place.”
“We don’t know what happened to him yet.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Who owns the Escalade outside?”
“It’s Will’s. So what?”
“I still need to talk to him.”
“I dropped him at the Witch’s Brew. You can find him there. I told him I’d pick him up later. I wanted to come out here and be by myself for a while.”
“Why? Why come here?”
She didn’t answer. She closed her eyes and focused on her yoga position, as if ignoring me would make me go away. I thought about leaving, but I couldn’t do that. Instead, I took a seat next to her on the old mattress. The smoke of her cigarette burned my throat. The cabin around us was filled with shadows and snow. I saw a dead, frozen robin in the corner.
“Anna, I want to apologize. I said harsh things that I didn’t mean. I was upset about my father. It was wrong of me to take it out on you.”
She was in a pose made for relaxation, but she wasn’t relaxed at all. She was coiled like a spring. When her eyes opened, they were bloodshot and hurt. “Will says people apologize when they accidentally tell you what they really think.”
“That’s not true.”
“You don’t have to lie to me, Shelby. I heard what you said. I got your message loud and clear. You think I’m a worthless little bitch. At least you had the guts to finally admit it. I’m sorry my mom foisted me on you and told you to look after me. The good news is, you’re done. You told me to get lost, and I did. I’m not your problem anymore, so don’t worry about me.”
I had no idea what to say. None. If anyone in that cabin felt like a worthless bitch, it was me.
“Anna, tell me why you came out here. Please.”
“Go away, Shelby. Don’t pretend you care.”
“I’m not pretending. I do care. Talk to me. You can hate me if you want, but I need you to talk to me.”
“Why? What difference does it make?”
“Because I love you. And you’re hurting. I want to help.”
“You can’t help. I wish you’d just go.”
“Well, sorry, I’m not going to do that. Look, Anna, we both know why you’re here. Why can’t you just admit that you’re upset about what happened to Jeremiah? Why is that so hard for you?”
The girl scrambled off the mattress as if I’d set it on fire. She shoved her feet back into her boots and paced back and forth in the cabin. She kicked at the snow with each step.
“Can’t you feel him?”
“Jeremiah?”
“Yes, of course, Jeremiah! He was here. He’s all over this place.”
I tried to feel what she felt, but I didn’t. To me, there were no ghosts here, just the sleeping chill of winter. But I had never been connected to Jeremiah the way Anna was.
“Did you come out here to talk to him?”
“I came out here to tell him to leave me alone.”
“Leave you alone? What do you mean?” And then I realized what she was saying. “You still dream about him, don’t you?”
Anna pushed her blond hair out of her face. She was close to tears. “I have the same dream over and over. It’s driving me crazy. I can’t
make it stop.”
“Tell me about it.”
“He keeps telling me he’s okay. He says that he doesn’t blame me, that it’s not my fault.”
“It’s not your fault.”
The girl picked up an empty, dirty beer bottle from the debris on the floor and heaved it at the wall, where it exploded into a shower of glass. “Of course, it is! Jeremiah! My mom! It’s all my fault!”
I got up from the mattress and took her by the shoulders. “Anna, you didn’t make those things happen. Your mom had cancer. And Jeremiah’s disappearance had absolutely nothing to do with you. If he keeps coming back in your dreams, maybe it’s because you’re not listening to him.”
I hoped that the wall between us might crumble. I hoped that she’d put her arms around me. I was praying that I’d finally be able to reach her. I was looking for anything, any kind of glimmer, even the smallest crack in the shell. But she was as lost as Jeremiah. She shrugged off my hands and backed away from me.
“You don’t know anything. You don’t know who I am. Will does. He knows I’m a bad person.”
“Will is wrong.”
“Yeah? Tell me one good thing I’ve done in my whole life, Shelby. Just one.”
“Are you kidding? Your best friend disappeared ten years ago, and you still miss him. Would a bad person feel that way?”
Anna reached into her pocket and found another cigarette to light. Her fingers trembled. “Shelby, please just go now.”
“I’m not going to leave you here. Let me take you home. My home. That’s where you belong.”
“No. I get it, you feel sorry for me, but I want to be alone right now. Okay? Let me be alone with him.”
Maybe I should have forced her to go with me, but it felt like the wrong thing to do. I couldn’t help her until she wanted my help.
“Okay. If that’s what you want, I’ll go.”
“Thank you.”
I headed for the cabin doorway. I was outside, under the falling snow, when Anna called to me. There was something different in her voice that reminded me of the little girl she once was. “Hey, Shelby?”
I turned around. “Yes?”
“Just so you know, you’re in the dream, too.”
“Your dream about Jeremiah?”
“Yeah. It used to be that I was alone, but lately you’ve been there, too. You’re standing on this dirt road, and when I pass you, you tell me you’re looking for someone, but you can’t find him. And you ask me if I’ve seen him.”
“Who am I looking for? Jeremiah?”
“No. Not him.”
I was puzzled. “Then who?”
“You always say the same thing,” Anna replied. “‘A well-meaning traveler.’ That’s who you’re trying to find.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Even late on a snow-filled Wednesday night, the Witch’s Brew was packed shoulder to shoulder with people. When I came inside out of the cold, I immediately felt warm with so many bodies pressed together around cocktail tables. The entire bar was paneled in walnut, making the place dark. Sconce lights flickered like fake candles. The heads of deer, elk, bears, and moose scowled at me from the walls. I looked around at the faces, but I didn’t see Will Gruder.
People tend to notice the uniform in places like this. They figure it’s never good when a cop arrives, so they gave me space. I heard fragments of conversation as I pushed through the crowd, and everybody was talking about Breezy being dead. I made my way to the bar. I was about to ask the bartender about Will when I noticed a familiar face near the back door.
It was Dennis Sloan, standing off by himself and staring into his beer as if he were alone on the planet.
“Hello, Mr. Sloan.”
Dennis looked up from his drink and eyed me with an anxious stare. That’s the thing about being a parent with a missing child. Whenever a police officer shows up, you think, this is it. This is the moment I find out.
“Mr. Sloan? That’s pretty formal, Shelby. Is this an official visit? Do you have news?”
“No news, but actually, I do have a couple of questions for you. Could we go outside where it’s a little more private?”
“Sure. If you want.”
We went through the rear door into the gravel lot behind the bar. A few cars were parked back there, wearing caps of snow. The large trash bins near us smelled of old vegetables and empty wine bottles. Dennis’s face was flushed red. Ten years had gone by since he lost his son, but he’d aged twenty.
“I heard about Breezy. I’m just devastated. I can’t believe it. What happened?”
“We’re still looking into that.”
He glanced at the woods on the other side of the parking lot. Somewhere beyond those woods was Breezy’s trailer. What I saw on his face looked like genuine longing and regret.
“I really liked her, you know. It was more than sex. It’s not like we were in love or anything, but we were good for each other.”
“When did you last see her?”
“Thanksgiving. Adrian was in DC with Ellen, so I was alone. So was Breezy. I came out here to the Witch’s Brew, and we ended up having drinks and going back to her place. That’s the way it was with us. We wouldn’t see each other for months, and then we’d screw around and stay up all night talking. It’s nice to be with someone you’ve got history with, even if it’s just an on-again, off-again thing.”
“And you haven’t seen her since then?”
“No.”
“What about Monday night? Where did you go after you left the resort?”
Dennis’s tired eyes slowly focused. He realized what I was asking. “Are you kidding, Shelby? Tell me you don’t think I killed her.”
“We have to talk to everyone who knew her and rule them out.”
“Well, I didn’t go to Breezy’s on Monday. I’d like to give you an alibi for where I was, but I can’t. After I left the resort, I went home. Nobody went with me. I wanted to be alone. All I can tell you is, I would never hurt Breezy. No way.”
“Okay.”
“Is there anything else? I have to go soon. Once the snow stops, I have to start plowing driveways.”
“I have a few more questions. Do you remember knowing a man named Paul Nadler? He was from Stanton.”
“The name’s not familiar. Who is he?”
“He was an old man with dementia, and he spent a lot of time throughout his life at the Mittel Pines Resort. He wandered away from his nursing home on the same day that Jeremiah disappeared. We think it’s possible that he’s the one who took your son there.”
“And killed him? A senile old man?”
“We don’t know exactly what happened, but it’s more complicated than that. Given what happened to Breezy and that she lived on the only road that leads out to the resort, it’s possible she knew something, even if she didn’t realize it.”
“If Breezy knew anything at all, she would have told me.”
I held his eyes with mine. “Here’s the thing, Dennis. I asked Breezy if anyone was with her on Friday or Saturday night after Jeremiah disappeared. She said no. But I don’t think that’s the truth. I don’t think she was alone. And I think whoever was with her either knows what happened to your son, or has been hiding something important for a long time. I think that’s why she’s dead.”
I watched him get angry, but the anger didn’t last long. He shook his head with disbelief. “And you think it was me? That I know what happened to Jer?”
“Violet says you didn’t spend that Saturday night at home. You went out, and you didn’t come back until very late. I know you’d been having an affair with Breezy. It makes me wonder if you went to see her.”
Dennis sighed and shook snow out of his hair. “Okay. I don’t know what difference it makes, but yes, I did see her that night. Honestly, I haven’t been thinking about anything els
e since I found out that Jer was at that damn resort. Can you imagine what it feels like to know I was so close to my boy back then? Hell, I could have shouted his name, and he probably would have heard me. I could have driven over there and saved him. But I didn’t know, Shelby. I didn’t know a thing about it.”
“Tell me what happened that night.”
He exhaled long and slow, as if talking about it was the last thing he wanted to do. “Ellen was freezing me out all day. She was in her own world. I mean, I don’t blame her for that, but after a while, I just couldn’t be there anymore. I couldn’t take the silent treatment. So I went out. I didn’t even know where I was going. I drove up and down the roads, like maybe if I drove around long enough, I’d find Jer. It was pouring rain. Hammering down. I kept thinking of him being out in the middle of that. Anyway, sooner or later, I wound up in Witch Tree. Right here at the bar. It wasn’t deliberate or anything, it just happened. I stayed here until the place closed at two in the morning, but I still didn’t want to go home. I couldn’t face Ellen. And I was feeling wrecked about Jer. So I went over to see Breezy at the trailer.”
“Did you see anyone else on the road as you were driving to her place?”
“I don’t remember. It was late, and I was pretty buzzed.”
“Did you hear anything when you got there?”
“Hear anything? Like what?”
“Music. Someone playing music in the forest.”
“I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure the rain had stopped, but I don’t remember hearing anything.”
“Was Breezy awake?”
“No. She was sleeping. I knocked on the door and woke her up.”
“Was she alone?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. It’s not like there’s any place to hide in the trailer, Shelby. Other than the bedroom, and that’s where we went. I mean, I’m not proud of it. My son was missing, and what did I do? I had sex.”
“And after?”
“Breezy went back to sleep. I stared at the ceiling and thought about what a piece of crap I am. I stayed there for a while, and eventually, I got up and went home.”
The Deep, Deep Snow Page 26
