She led him off. He called out to Hayley and Seth, “Talk to you guys later.”
Hayley called back, “Whatever,” but it sounded more to herself than to him.
Seth said to her, “You got the farm truck here?”
“No. Isis picked me up. Why?”
“’Cause me and you are getting out of here, Hayl. But we need to score Derric’s keys first. He was talking about driving. Seriously bad idea. You c’n drive his car and take him and Becca to Grand’s so he c’n sober up. I’ll follow you with Jenn and Squat and—”
“It’ll be okay, Seth.”
“Like hell. Someone’s gonna call the cops. Come on, Hayley.”
“Hey. You’re not—”
“Your boyfriend. Right. But I’m still your friend, and friends don’t let friends stay at parties that’re going to be broken up by the cops so that their parents end up getting called to come fish their kids out of wherever their kids get taken.”
It was the parents part that got to her as he figured it would. She said, “I’ll get his keys,” and she headed through the crowd to where Derric and Becca were sitting. They were making out like about twenty other couples, and next to them Jenn and Squat were sharing a bottle of something. Were they going to be sick in the morning or what? Seth thought.
He watched Hayley talking to Derric. He looked around. Some girl had climbed up on the wall. She’d taken off her sweater. She started swinging it around her head. Some guys were yelling “Take it all off!” and as if further prompting was going to be needed, suddenly a spotlight hit her. The atmosphere of the party changed instantly.
A deputy from the sheriff’s department strode forward with a powerful Maglite held above his head. Another deputy had a bull horn at his mouth and he shouted into this: “All of you, get up on the terrace. Now.” Another deputy came around the far side of the house and behind him was the undersheriff of the county, Derric’s dad.
Some of the kids obeyed at once. But a crowd of them began to flee in every direction, with about fifteen of them heading north up the beach in an attempt to get to their cars.
But the cops had already thought this one through. Reinforce-ments emerged from the side of a house about thirty yards to the north. To make sure everyone understood the situation, Derric’s dad grabbed the bull horn and shouted, “No one’s going anywhere. The road is blocked. Get back here and show some common sense.”
Which, Seth saw, was just about the time Dave Mathieson saw his own son, Derric, throwing a beer can into the driftwood behind the wall on which he drunkenly sat.
TWENTY-TWO
In the ensuing chaos, Becca lost the ear bud that blocked people’s whispers. She couldn’t find it anywhere and was too dizzy to be able to figure out what might have happened to it since it was supposed to be connected to the AUD box, which was clipped to her waist.
To her horror, the first thing she did when she jumped to her feet was to throw up over the side of the stone wall. When she was able to stagger away from the vomit, she turned and saw that Dave Mathieson was coming toward them in a fury. Meanwhile, one of the deputies was making it clear that no one was going anywhere via car and everyone was going to be marching up Maxwelton Road to an old church standing at an intersection. There, inside that place, every last one of them was going to give their names and the names of their parents, who were going to be called and told to come and pick up their offspring. Anyone over twenty-one was in bigger trouble: not only trespassing on private property, but also contributing to the delinquency of minors. Now let’s get moving, the deputy yelled. One of the other deputies came forward and used a garden hose to put out the fire.
Hit the fan now was what Becca heard and it could have come from Derric. But then so could have when my mom finds out and just what I need and this is going to look great on my record. Meantime, everyone else was bombarding the air with their whispers, most of which were swear words and scattered plans about how to escape the march up to the church. The problem for most of them, though, was that the first thing the cops did was to relieve every single kid of identification and car keys, so escaping via a vehicle wasn’t going to be in the plan.
“Just what the hell were you thinking?” was what she heard from Dave Mathieson to Derric. “Are you drunk? Never mind, I can see for myself. And did you intend to drive this way?”
“I was getting his keys, Sheriff Mathieson.” Hayley Cartwright spoke quickly. “Seth and I were taking all these guys home.” She indicated Derric, Becca, Jenn, and Squat. Squat was on his back on the top of the wall, smiling loonily up at the night sky.
“Don’t try to cover for them,” Dave told her.
“I’m not covering.”
“It’s the truth,” Seth told him. “Hayley and I haven’t been drinking.”
“’S all right,” Derric said, with a tired wave. “My bad, Seth.”
“You have that right,” Dave Mathieson told him. “I thought you had more sense. Give me your damn keys,” and when he had them, he walked away.
It was like a military POW march after that. The kids were herded to the front of the house and then lined up single file. Noise from the woods indicated that some of the kids were hoping to escape by climbing the slope up to Swede Hill Road. Maybe they’d make it, Becca thought, but the cops looked intent upon finding every last person who’d been at the party. In the world of throwing the book at people, the book was going to be thrown.
• • •
BECCA GOT SEPARATED from everyone except Derric when the kids were lined up along the road. They weren’t sobering up quickly, but the mood among them had changed.
As they started their march, Derric stumbled and she caught his arm. He looked at her, said, “Thanks,” and added, “This wasn’t one of my better ideas. Have I screwed up my whole life or what?”
Becca didn’t need to hear his whispers to know he wasn’t talking about merely getting drunk at a party. Nor when he added, “My mom’s going to be all over me,” did she think Rhonda Mathieson’s concern was going to be solely about the party either.
At least, she thought, a kids’ party on private property broken up by the cops wasn’t going to make the front page of the paper. And even if the story itself made the paper, there was no photographer there taking pictures to attract Jeff Corrie’s attention if he was scanning the Whidbey paper online to see if her face or Laurel’s face showed up in a crowd somewhere. So thank God for that. And thank God also that no one had broken into the house and nothing truly bad had happened except some kids—like her, for instance—throwing up on someone’s property. They’d used the fire pit and that was bad and guys had probably peed in the vacant lot next door and, okay, they’d been drinking but it could have been a whole lot worse and there were definitely parents all over the place who were going to be happy that it hadn’t been.
This was indeed how things remained till the march of partiers got halfway to the church. At that point flashing lights came in their direction and five seconds later a fire engine stormed past them as they scurried to one side of the road.
• • •
SOME KIDS TRIED to escape in the confusion. What Becca wondered was where those kids were going to go since no one had car keys. She couldn’t see anything on fire back the way they’d come, and she herself had seen the cop turn a hose on the fire pit.
They didn’t find out anything more till they were in the church. They had their orders from the deputy with the bull horn, “Keep marching, you guys,” and so those who didn’t try to fade into the fields and then into the forest along the road did pretty much what they were told.
The old church was waiting for them, a dull brown building surrounded by fir trees. All the lights were on, and the first of the parents were already there. Among these Becca recognized Nancy Howard, who lived on Maxwelton Road, as it turned out. She’d only had to come a half mile, but she didn’t look
happy. The other adults Becca didn’t recognize, except for Rhonda Mathieson. She swarmed over Derric and Becca like ten thousand bees following the flight of their queen.
What have I done wrong when I keep trying so hard produced two feelings in Becca. A thrill of pleasure burst upon her at the complete clarity of the whisper and her immediate knowledge of its source, which was Rhonda. But a cold bucket of guilt doused that pleasure soon enough because Derric’s mom was so incredibly upset.
The only good part was that Rhonda’s hovering around them produced the ear bud of the AUD box, which was dangling from its connection to the box at Becca’s waist. She hadn’t felt it hitting against her knees through her jeans as she walked, and she was seriously grateful that nothing had happened to it. She reestablished it in her ear. She looked around for the rest of her friends.
She saw Jenn, and with her was Squat, totally wasted. She saw Seth arguing with a deputy, and she figured he was telling the guy that he’d just arrived, that he’d tried to get Hayley Cartwright out of there, that at least they could give him a breath test or whatever so he could prove he was stone cold sober and completely able to drive Hayley home. She saw Isis Martin being strong-armed by her grandmother. She saw Parker Natalia trying to ease over to the door. He didn’t get far. A cop standing guard at the door directed him back into the church.
“This isn’t like you. What on earth is happening to you?” It was Rhonda talking to Derric. He looked sullen and sick to his stomach simultaneously. His reply of “Jesus. Lay off, Mom,” didn’t go down well. Rhonda turned to Becca. “What were you two thinking?”
Becca said, “Sorry. We were dumb.”
“And lay off Becca, too,” Derric snapped. “Let’s just go the hell home.”
“Do you actually think it’s going to be that easy?” Rhonda demanded. “There’s a fire down there and no one’s going anywhere till that’s taken care of.”
“They put out the fire,” Becca told her. “I saw the guy take a hose and—”
“Evidently, you didn’t see what you thought you saw because it doesn’t take the fire department to douse a fire on the beach.”
“We weren’t on the beach,” Derric said. Unnecessarily, Becca thought. “An’ the fire was in a legal pit.”
“Illegally lit by a bunch of drunk kids on someone’s private property,” Rhonda countered.
“Give it a frigging rest,” Derric said.
Rhonda’s eyes filled with tears. She walked off, allowing Derric and Becca to be herded into one of the pews along with everyone else. Becca felt bad for her, but she felt bad for Derric, too, because she knew this was going to be yet another issue between him and his mom.
• • •
THEY WAITED NINETY minutes. By that time all the parents of all the kids had arrived and were milling around outside. Becca could see them when the doors opened, and she could hear them shouting questions when Dave Mathieson entered. The partiers were either sobering up or they were asleep. Five of them had been sick on the floor and were cleaning up their own mess as directed by a completely unsympathetic deputy. Dave went over to talk to Derric’s mom, and they spent a couple of minutes in earnest conversation. Then Rhonda walked over to where Becca and Derric were leaning against each other at the far end of a pew.
She said to Becca, “You’ll have to wait. He says no one leaves without an adult who’ll take responsibility for them tonight. I’m sorry,” and then to Derric, “Let’s go home,” and she turned and walked off.
At that point, Dave Mathieson strode to the front of the church and the set of his jaw made him look even angrier than he’d been when he’d confronted Becca and Derric at the party. He planted himself on a riser and said in a loud voice, “Listen up, all of you smart-asses, so you have a clear picture of just how serious this situation is. Your little party spread its wings. The building next door went up in flames from the fire you guys were all enjoying—”
Moans, shouts, angry retorts, and cries constituted the general reaction and it came immediately, breaking into the sheriff’s words.
He said, “Yeah. That’s right. So you’ve got one hell of a problem. Those of you who’re legal age . . . ? You’ll be taking a ride up to Coupeville. The rest of you are released to your parents as soon as they get here if they’re not here already. But”—he increased the volume as kids started to move—“you’ll be hearing from the appropriate authorities as soon as damages are assessed.”
A few kids protested. They’d been on the beach, they’d not even gone near that stupid fire pit, they’d been leaving when they saw the party was getting out of hand. But the undersheriff wasn’t interested in this. He was finished speaking and he nodded to the deputy by the door. He opened it and allowed the parents to enter one by one to claim their offspring.
Derric said to Becca, “This is such bullshit. At least he could let us drive you home. I’m gonna go tell him—”
“’S’okay,” Becca said hastily. There was no point in provoking anything else between Derric and either one of his parents. “I c’n call Mrs. Kinsale. It’s better than Mr. Darrow.” What she meant was that she couldn’t risk her living situation with Ralph Darrow. She was sobering up pretty quickly at this point, but she knew she smelled like beer and vomit. Ralph Darrow would not appreciate having to be exposed to her scent.
Derric said, “Bullshit, Becca. What’s the point of my dad being the undersheriff if he won’t even give us a break?”
“That’s the whole point. He can’t. Because he’s the undersheriff.”
“I don’t want you . . . Crap. I’m so frigging sorry.”
“Hey, I’ll be okay. Both of us blew it. You didn’t exactly force me to go to the party and no way did you force me to chug a bunch of beers.”
“We shouldn’t’ve gone. When we saw it was at that empty house . . .” He put a fist to his forehead and gave it a tap. “I am totally losing it.”
“Just go home with your mom. It’ll be okay.”
“I don’t think so.” He hugged her hard and swung around to go to his mother.
That was when the fire chief came into the room at such a pace that he nearly knocked over two sets of parents in his haste to get to the undersheriff. He spoke to him tersely. Dave Mathieson announced, “Everyone, stay where you are.”
Then along with the fire chief, he rushed out of the place as protests rose around them and two deputies took up positions at the church’s front doors.
TWENTY-THREE
No one was happy about being trapped inside the church, and the only alteration in their circumstances was that the parents were now trapped inside with them. For an hour no one knew what was going on. Everyone remained in ignorance until through the window someone saw an ambulance pass by, heading in the direction of the beach.
At first, Becca assumed that a fire fighter had been injured at the blaze next door to where the party had been. Or, perhaps, one of the kids who’d attempted an escape through the woods and up the slope had slipped and fallen and broken something. But finally Dave Mathieson arrived back at the church, and Derric’s mom went to talk to him. Her expression of horror told the tale of something being very wrong. A minute later, the undersheriff made the grave announcement. A body had been found inside the building that had gone up in flames.
Dozens of cries of shock rose. Dave Mathieson silenced them by holding up his hand. He said, sounding totally wiped out, “Everyone with a parent can go. But we’ll be in touch, and you can expect to be questioned about what went on down there at that house tonight.”
More than this Becca learned in dribs and drabs as people filtered out of the church and as she herself waited for Diana Kinsale. The facts were sketchy but they made a partial picture of a tumbledown wreck of a fishing shack at the farthest end of Maxwelton Beach almost to the spear tip of land that turned the place into heavily wooded Indian Point. Long uninhabited, the shack
had been taken over by someone homeless, and there he’d been camping and cooking over an open fire for God only knew how long. He came and went by night, it seemed, since no one on the road leading up to the shack had ever seen him. The fire investigators were set to examine the scene in the morning, and perhaps they’d know then exactly what had happened.
There was some relief found in the belief that the kids involved in the illegal party were not also involved in causing a nearby fishing shack to go up in flames. So the situation was bad but it could have been worse. Because of all this, it was a subdued crowd that began to drive off in the night.
Diana Kinsale showed up along with the final group of parents who’d had to return to the island from as far away as Seattle, where they’d gone for the evening prior to being summoned back to cart their miscreants home. In Diana’s case, she’d come from over town, the mall in Lynnwood where she’d gone to see a film with a friend.
“No matter,” she said to Becca’s abject apology at having dragged her out of the film. “I’m embarrassed to tell you that I was so bored, I’d fallen asleep. Movies aren’t what they used to be since Paul Newman died. Coming to get you turned out to be a welcome diversion.” They were in Diana’s truck and she cast a glance in Becca’s direction. “Although,” she added, “I don’t expect you see it the same way. What on earth were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t,” Becca said. “It seemed sorta harmless.”
“Which part?”
“The sitting around a beach fire and making out with Derric part. Maybe toasting marshmallows or making s’mores or something. But there wasn’t any beach fire, there sure as heck weren’t any marshmallows, and Derric wanted a beer and I thought why not. One beer. Big deal. Only it was more than one, and it was all so stupid. C’n you not take me to Mr. Darrow’s till tomorrow?”
Diana evaluated this. “Won’t he worry if you’re not there when he gets up?”
The Edge of the Shadows Page 13
