by Alana Terry
Pretty sure, but not positive.
Danger signals zinged through her brain, and she braced herself for some terrible blow. The state had decided Pip wasn’t being cared for well enough and was going to take him away to be raised by strangers. That had to be it. Why else would he look at her with that apologetic stare?
“I have to head back to the office before long, but do you have a few minutes? I’d love to find a quiet place to talk.”
CHAPTER 10
If Taylor expected to find anything resembling privacy here, he’d obviously never spent much time in a daycare. Fortunately, Jade announced that lunch was ready a few minutes later. Kimmie and Taylor could talk in the playroom while Jade served up the kids in the kitchen. Kimmie pulled out the rocking chair, and Taylor sat on top of the coloring table. Kimmie didn’t have the heart to ask him to move, and she hoped none of the kids would come out and see the trooper in uniform breaking one of the daycare rules.
Taylor strummed his fingers on his thigh and looked perfectly at ease. Kimmie just wished he could lend her a fraction of his calm and self-possession.
“I wanted to talk to you about your mom.”
Kimmie felt her breath whooshing out her lungs. It was hard to tell if his words left her more surprised or relieved, but at least it didn’t have to do with Pip.
She had a hard time knowing where to look and found her eyes flitting between Taylor’s black shiny boots, the glistening gold badge on his chest, and the tiny hint of stubble accenting a strongly defined jawline.
“This is a little awkward.” Taylor’s words belied his demeanor, which remained perfectly casual. “We’ve had a few discussions at the station that have caused us to look a little bit deeper into your mother’s case.”
Kimmie stared from his boots to his badge and back down again. What was he saying? Was her family in trouble because her mother killed herself?
Taylor looked over his shoulder. The door to the kitchen was closed, and the empty playroom suddenly felt very large and very quiet.
He lowered his voice. “I hate to be the one to bring this up, but I thought given the circumstances it might be best to talk to you first instead of going to your dad.”
Kimmie wanted to correct his mistake, but the word stepfather died on her lips before she could speak it.
“I can’t go into details, and I know this is obviously a sensitive topic. I just wanted to give you a little warning so you aren’t surprised.”
She had no idea what he was saying. She had no idea how she was expected to respond. When had people stopped speaking in plain English?
She pried her eyes away from his badge and stared at her hands which fidgeted in her lap. “I’m afraid I don’t really understand.”
He smiled at her and apologized. “I guess I was being kind of vague. I don’t want to sound like an alarmist or anything, but there’s something I think you should know.”
Time, breath, even her pulse stood still while she waited. Taylor leveled his gaze and didn’t say a word until she managed to raise her eyes to meet his.
“There’s a chance they’re going to open up an investigation looking into your mother’s death.”
Kimmie understood the individual words but not their coherent meaning when strung together. What was he saying?
Taylor must have sensed her confusion. He let out a sigh, leaned forward, and explained, “We’re starting to think this might not have been a suicide after all.”
CHAPTER 11
A moment later, Taylor returned from the kitchen and held out a Dixie cup full of tepid water, which Kimmie sipped in miniature installments.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have waited to find a better time to talk.”
She stared at him, trying once more to piece together the meaning of his words. A dozen different questions jumbled in her brain, but she couldn’t focus on a single one long enough to ask it. She replayed everything she remembered about that horrible day. Stepping into the garage, the surreal grisliness of it all. Shouting for her stepdad, tackling Pip to keep him from coming in, waiting for what felt like hours for the troopers and ambulance crew to arrive.
Not a suicide …
“Other members of the family have raised a few questions.”
This time his words’ meaning came to Kimmie clearly. “You mean my sister?” Who else would voluntarily get in touch with the troopers like this? Kimmie had only talked to Meg that first day. Since Chuck refused to keep a landline and the tiny subdivision where they lived was notorious for its spotty cell coverage, she’d had to walk to the neighbor’s and beg to borrow her phone for such a private conversation.
Taylor didn’t deny that Meg had gotten involved. “At the scene …” He stopped himself. “At your house, I mean, there were a few questions we had. And talking with your sister has raised even more.”
Kimmie’s brain was spinning but instead of an efficient machine taking her to the conclusions she needed to arrive at, the mental chaos was more like a hamster in a wheel, spinning helplessly but always remaining in the exact same spot.
“What kind of questions?” she found herself asking.
“Well, your sister says your mother wrote notes. Notes about how she felt at home.” He leveled his gaze. “A few of the notes are at your sister’s in Anchorage, but she thinks there’s more. Can you think of any special place your mother may have kept them? A favorite hiding place? Somewhere private?”
Kimmie shook her head. The idea of privacy in a family like Chuck’s was almost humorous.
Taylor sighed. “Well, if you think of something, will you let me know?”
“Sure.” Kimmie stared at the wall.
Taylor waited until she looked straight at him. “Do you feel safe at home?”
Kimmie bristled. What happened in the privacy of Chuck’s trailer was her business and no one else’s. Nobody, not even an Alaska state trooper in his impeccably pressed uniform, had the right to pry into her life, unlocking all those secrets she vowed to keep buried and hidden.
She tilted up her chin. “Of course I do.”
His eyes were full of empathy, and at that moment she wished she could escape his intense scrutiny.
“If you’re sure. Some of the things your sister told us …”
“Meg’s Meg,” Kimmie announced, as if that were all the explanation necessary. “She’s dealing with her grief the only way she knows how. I’m just sorry it’s causing more trouble and hassle for you at the station.”
Taylor didn’t look away as he reached into his breast pocket. “I want you to have my card,” he said. “I’m writing my cell number on the back. You can call me any time. Call me at the station or at home if it’s an emergency.”
She had no idea just what kind of emergency she was expected to find herself in and certainly didn’t feel like asking. She took the card, shoved it into her pocket, and vowed to forget about it. Forget Taylor and forget this nonsense about her mother’s death. Meg was Meg, which might not mean anything to the trooper, but it meant a lot to her. Her sister was only out to raise trouble. That was all. Who knew what kind of lies she’d concocted about Kimmie and Pip and their life with Chuck? How would Meg even know? She hadn’t been up to visit in years.
Taylor continued to stare at her intently, and she wished her mother hadn’t raised her to be the kind of girl who was perfectly polite, perfectly unable to cut a conversation short because she didn’t want to appear rude. She had no idea what this trooper was suspecting or insinuating, but she didn’t have to sit here and take it. She could tell him to leave. It wasn’t as if he owned the daycare.
But she continued to sit and stare, hoping he’d end the meeting on his own.
“I want you to think about what’s best for your brother.” What was he suggesting? Think about what was best for Pip? What else did Kimmie have to think about since their mother died? If she weren’t thinking about what was best for Pip, she’d be in Anc
horage by now, maybe even on her way to the Lower 48 if she found a way to get down there. A way to escape this chaos that had consumed her life.
Taylor had no idea what he was talking about.
“I really should get back to work now.” Kimmie glanced up at an imaginary clock on the wall. “Thank you for your concern.” Even now, she was unable to drop her upbringing, unable to be anything but polite and cordial.
Taylor reached out and touched her wrist. He didn’t grab it, or she would have jerked away. The touch was shocking. Kimmie sat frozen for just a second.
“I just want to make sure you’re safe, you and your brother both.”
If Taylor was concerned for her safety like he claimed, he should have thought about that before talking about investigations prying into her private family affairs. If he wanted what was best for Pip, he’d stay far away from her home, from her stepfather.
Chuck hadn’t been named as a suspect, but Kimmie was certain that if her sister were involved, Meg would have blamed Chuck. For years, Meg had begged Mom to leave Glennallen or at the very least to let Kimmie come live with her and her new husband in Anchorage. Finally, the fighting grew ugly enough that Chuck refused to let Mom have anything to do with her oldest daughter. It was just like Meg — spiteful, selfish Meg — to go around making accusations.
Not that they were entirely baseless. How many times had Chuck threatened to murder Kimmie’s mom? How many times in a drunken rage had he beaten her so badly she passed out?
Kimmie’s core was shaking when she walked the trooper to the door of the daycare, but it wasn’t because she was mad at his suggestion Mom’s death might not have been a suicide.
It was because he’d confirmed Kimmie’s most secret fear, the one she’d been trying desperately to hide even from herself — that her stepfather could actually have committed the murder.
CHAPTER 12
Kimmie had a terrible headache and was grateful for Jade’s help in getting the kids ready for their afternoon nap. Only a few of them fell asleep, but the rest managed to remain relatively quiet, looking at books or playing with a toy or two in their cots. Jade was getting ready to organize the bookshelves when Kimmie came behind her.
“Hey.” She tried to keep her voice sounding as natural as possible.
Jade glanced up, and Kimmie rubbed her sweaty palms against her jeans. “Umm, do you still have free long distance on your cell?”
Jade pulled out her earbuds and yanked her phone out of her pocket. “Yeah. You need to call someone?”
All her co-workers at the daycare knew about Kimmie’s phone situation, and whether or not they thought it was weird that a young woman living in the present day could survive without a cell phone or even a landline at her house, they always let her borrow their phones to make quick calls here and there.
Kimmie reached out for the cell, shuffling her feet and not quite able to meet Jade’s gaze. “It might be a little longer than normal. I haven’t really talked with any of the relatives since Mom died, and …”
Jade waved her hand in the air. “Take it. Go. You can even head outside or something if you want privacy. We’re fine here for a while.”
Kimmie wasn’t sure if she should be hurt by the way Jade was acting so dismissively or if she should simply be grateful for the chance to connect with someone outside Glennallen.
“I’ll try not to be too long,” she promised. Grabbing her coat, she made sure that Pip was comfortable in his cot. He was one of the only kids who regularly managed to drift off to sleep, and he was already drooling slightly when Kimmie made her way out to the playground. Sitting down on one of the swings, Kimmie dialed the number from memory, begging it to go through.
Please pick up. Please pick up.
Kimmie let out a simultaneous sigh of relief and a shiver from the cold. Swinging her legs softly back and forth, she found her voice.
“Hey, Meg. It’s me, Kimmie. Got a minute? We need to talk about Mom.”
CHAPTER 13
Kimmie waited so long for her sister’s response she started to worry she’d called the wrong person. She pulled the phone away from her ear to check the number again.
“Meg?” she finally asked.
“I’m here.” Her sister let out a sigh, and Kimmie braced herself for some sort of big-sister lecture or maybe a guilt trip. Why didn’t you know Mom was suicidal? Why didn’t you do anything to stop her?
Instead, Meg asked, “Are you okay? Where are you calling from? Is anyone else there?”
Kimmie knew she was talking about Chuck and shook her head even though her sister couldn’t see the gesture. “No, it’s just me. I’m at the daycare, but the kids are resting, so I’m on the playground. I’m by myself.”
“Okay.” Meg sounded relieved. “Listen, I’m really sorry I haven’t gotten out there yet. I wanted to be with you. I really did.”
It’s not too late, Kimmie wanted to say, but her voice betrayed her, and she let out the expected, “It’s okay. I know you’re busy.”
“It’s not that.” Meg sounded flustered, the same vibe she gave off to anyone and everyone. The vibe that yelled I’m a busy woman with five hundred important things on my to-do list. “I’m just worried for you. I don’t want you staying with him, Kimmie.”
Her heart sank. Why had she expected anything different? This wasn’t a conversation between an older sister comforting her little sister, the same little sister who found their mother hanging from the garage rafters. This was a conversation where Meg simply continued the argument she’d started with Mom years ago, except now she was fighting with Kimmie: Leave Chuck. Move in with me in Anchorage.
“I can’t leave Pip.” If Meg had invested any time in getting to know her half-brother, she’d understand, but by the time Pip was born, she and Mom were in the ugliest stage of their leave Chuck and let me save you feud.
“Right now, it’s you I’m worried about.” Even while she spoke, Meg sounded like she had twenty other things on her mind, a hundred other errands she’d rather be doing than having this conversation with her disappointment of a sister.
That’s easy for you to say from your privileged high tower, Kimmie wanted to shout. If her sister had stuck with the family instead of insisting on spending her senior year in Anchorage with that boyfriend who dumped her the week before prom and the best friend who gossiped about it behind her back, Meg would understand what things were really like under Chuck’s roof.
Why Kimmie couldn’t just walk away.
Why Mom couldn’t either.
She tried to steady her voice. She wasn’t Mom. This wasn’t her fight to have with her sister. She just wanted information. “A trooper stopped by,” she said, hoping that Meg would pick up the cue and fill her in on whatever details she’d given Taylor’s station.
Silence.
“He said they’re maybe going to look a little deeper into everything that happened.” Kimmie waited. Jump in at any time, Meg. Don’t wait for me.
Her sister let out an impatient huff. “Well, I’m worried about you, all right? There’s some things you don’t know. About Mom.”
Kimmie rolled her eyes. So all of a sudden her sister was an expert on the dead mother she hardly visited? “Like what?” This should be good, Kimmie thought and waited for her sister’s response.
“She called me last week.”
That was news. “She did?” For the entirety of their relationship, at least as far as Kimmie knew, whenever Mom wanted to talk to her daughter she had to beg Chuck to let her go over to Mrs. Spencer’s, the neighbor, to borrow the phone. Over the past few years he’d gotten so belligerent whenever Mom showed even a spark of independent thought, she simply stopped asking. Besides, weren’t her mom and sister mad at each other since Meg always pestered Mom about leaving Chuck? From Meg’s vantage point, Chuck was a jerk, and she couldn’t understand why anyone would choose to stay in a relationship with someone that evil.
As if
it were ever that simple.
“Listen, I don’t have time to go into all the details right now.” Meg lowered her voice as if she were worried about eavesdroppers. “But I want to talk to you soon. Can I come out there? I can shuffle some things around, drive out tomorrow …”
She let her voice trail off. Kimmie tried to remember the last time she’d seen her sister. There had been one visit after Pip was born, which lasted long enough for Meg to drop off a few packages of diapers and two new onesies before she continued on her road trip to Denali with her husband and their cadre of rich, attractive friends. Then last December she pulled up in time to hand Mom a fruitcake and a pair of holiday socks before taking off toward the Fairbanks ice festival.
Apparently taking Kimmie’s silence for reluctance or hostility, Meg added with a huff, “You know, it shouldn’t take a death in the family to make us spend time together.”
Kimmie wanted to remind Meg that she wasn’t the one who left. It was Meg who stayed in Anchorage, Meg who abandoned her sister when she was arguably at her most vulnerable, leaving her and Mom to fend for themselves against Chuck’s cruelty.
Kimmie recognized that her jealousy was misplaced. It wasn’t like Meg could have done anything to assuage Chuck’s anger. He would have been a terrible husband and a terrible stepparent and a terrible person whether or not Meg was there to share in the family’s suffering. But the fact that Meg had gone on to attend college, found herself a successful husband to take her on so many exotic vacations, and was leading in every other way as functional and enviable a life as possible was an affront to Kimmie’s sense of justice, immature and irrational as it might be.
Jade glanced out the door frowning, and Kimmie wondered just how long she’d been out here. It only felt like a few minutes, but of course a few minutes gave plenty of time to revive old grudges and poke at old scabs as far as her sister was concerned.
