“You were there. That night. The night your best friend died.”
“No.”
“Yes you were. You found him. You saw him on the bed. You were in that room and you saw him on the bed.”
“I was in there lots of times.”
“Not when your best friend was laying there, not moving, not breathing. No. You were there then. You were.”
“No.”
“You saw him. You went to him. You went to the door to get help... But you didn’t. You didn’t get help. You didn’t scream. You didn’t call nine-one-one.” Dooley lifted the boy’s chin roughly. “You didn’t help your best friend!”
“My lawyer said I don’t have to—”
“No lawyer is gonna help you now, Mike. We’re not talking jail here. You let your best friend die. He might have still been alive, and you didn’t help him. You went to that door and you stopped.”
“I didn’t do—”
“Kids like you go to hell,” Dooley said authoritatively, using what he’d learned from the case file. Good little Michael. A church-going boy. An altar boy. “You turned your back on your best friend and he died. You’re going to hell.”
“No!”
“Hell, Mike. That’s worse than jail. You’re not going to jail, I can tell you that right now. You’re going to hell.”
“I am not!”
“You turned away from your friend and you snuck out that window like a chicken and you ran home. Probably crying like a baby. Like you want to right now.”
He didn’t want to, but the words were enough to make it happen anyway. Bryce...
“You ran away. Left him there.”
Tears spilled down each cheek.
“You ran, Mike. You know why people run? Because they’re scared. You ran because you were scared.”
His head moved with the sobs, almost nodding. Almost.
“You were scared because you saw something.”
The wet eyes widened.
“You saw someone there, Mike.”
Sob. A nod?
“Someone was there,” Dooley said, his voice lowering now. He could see the hurt. The hurt like his own. “She was there, Mike.”
Quick breaths now. Surprise. Surprise that he knew. That someone knew.
“You saw her, Mike. You did.”
Head moving again. A nod. Yes. A nod.
“Miss Austin, Mike. You saw her there.”
“I... I saw her there.”
“She killed him, Mike.”
“She killed him.”
“She killed your best friend.”
Michael’s head bowed. Tears fell like rain onto his Green Bay Packer sweatpants.
“Why did she kill him, Mike? You know. You know.”
“Because...”
“Because?”
“Because he...he didn’t want to lie anymore.”
“She killed him, Mike.”
Sobs.
“She wrapped a wire around his throat and strangled him. It hurts to die that way, Mike.”
“No! Bryce! Bryce, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
Dooley grabbed Michael by the biceps. “Bryce didn’t want to lie anymore, Mike. You don’t have to either, now.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“The lie is done, Mike. Tell me.” Dooley carefully wiped the boy’s tears with his own hands. “Tell me, Mike. Tell me what happened outside the room at school.”
* * *
Elena lay on her bunk, face to the wall. PJ sat on the edge of the over-soft mattress and rubbed her back.
“You can do this, Elena. I know you can.”
Elena’s head moved in a slow nod. “I have to do it.”
* * *
Mary came up the trail to Whitetail 2 and found Joey and Jeff outside the girls’ cabin. She made her face bright and cheery, just like her mother had taught her so long ago. When all else was bad, put on that happy face. “Hey, been looking for you two. Are you all packed? The bus leaves right after lunch, remember.”
“Yeah, we’re all packed,” Jeff assured her, chipper with a morning grin.
“You’re in better spirits today,” Mary commented. Her heart was thudding. She felt the hound’s hot stare behind her eyes. It was Mandy, she knew now. Mandy was doing that. But why? Why, after so long?
“It was nothing,” Jeff lied. “Just this stupid cast. I’m so tired of lugging it around.”
“Two more weeks, Jeff. Isn’t that all?”
“That’s all, Miss Austin,” Jeff confirmed.
“We’re going to take a quick hike out to Buckley Point,” Joey told Mary. “We’re just waiting on PJ.”
“Oh. Where’s Elena?”
“Inside,” Joey explained. “She’s not feeling well. That’s what she says, at least.”
“I see.”
The door to Whitetail 2 opened and PJ came out. “Hi, Miss Austin.”
“Hello.”
“We’ll see you later,” Joey said, and they began to walk off.
“Don’t be late for lunch,” Mary called to them. They waved at her and disappeared up the trail.
* * *
“Tell me everything,” Dooley urged Michael. He brushed the young boy’s hair with his palm and listened carefully.
“We came around the corner from the ball field. We were waiting for the bat. Miss Austin was supposed to bring it out to us, but we figured she got busy helping Elena with her history lesson. So we went back for it, and we went around the corner, and...”
“Take your time, Mike.”
“And everything kinda happened at once. All at once. We saw. I mean, I saw. I guess everybody saw the same. We saw Elena there, outside the room. She was up against the wall near the steps. Guy was holding her there. He was real close to her. The front of her dress was pushed up. Up above her waist. And Guy was...reaching into her underwear. And then...”
“It’s okay. Tell it.”
“And then the door to the room opened and Miss Austin came out. She was bringing the bat to us. It was in her hands. And she came out onto the steps and she saw Guy, and what he was doing to Elena, and... And we saw the bat come up in the air. She was bringing it up. And Elena was looking up at Miss Austin, but Guy was looking down...down into Elena’s underwear. And then the bat started to come down. She was swinging it down fast. And it... It...”
“Yeah?”
“It hit Guy on the head and he kind of folded up and fell. He fell and his legs were twitching.”
“And then what happened?”
“We ran over there. Miss Austin was standing like a statue, like she was in shock. So was Elena. Guy was gurgling, but hardly moving anymore. I don’t know how long it was after that, but Joey said something.”
“What did he say?”
“He said we had to do something. He said he had an idea. He said if people thought one of us had done it, but not which one, then they wouldn’t think Miss Austin had. He said that we could pull it off because we were just kids and the police couldn’t make kids say anything.” Michael looked at Dooley with embarrassed, defeated eyes.
“Go on.”
“Joey said no one liked Guy, so no one would really care if he was gone.” Michael paused through a few breaths. “Guy almost ruined everything. Our class, everything. We didn’t want to let him ruin our teacher.”
“So Joey told you all this idea,” Dooley said. “What did Mar... Miss Austin do?”
“She was still kind of in shock. Joey told her the idea. It was a plan by then. He told her to go to the teachers’ lounge like she normally would, and to act like nothing happened.”
“Did she?”
“Joey had to tell her again. And then she kind of nodded. Her mouth was open. Joey reached out and took the bat from her, and he looked at her and he said, ‘All for one.’ It was something she had taught us, about sticking together to help each other. To help a friend.” Michael wiped a fresh tear. “She wasn’t just our teacher. She was our friend. We really believe
d that.”
“What happened after Joey took the bat?”
“Miss Austin started to walk away, kind of quick at first, then she slowed down and walked...normal.”
“And you all?”
“Joey wiped the bat with his shirt tail and we passed it around. Then Bryce ran to the office and told.”
“And that was it?” Dooley asked. “That was how this all started?”
Michael nodded.
Dooley rubbed at one eye and sniffed twice. He knew there was more to ask about. More he had to ask about.
“What about my car, Mike?”
He nodded again. “We did that. Miss Austin told us that you were really trying to get us to talk. She said she was worried about Elena. That she might talk if you started asking her questions. She asked me if I knew how to work on cars, since my dad’s a mechanic. I told her I did, and that night I looked through the shop manual for your kind of car.” A different kind of embarrassment stalled Michael now. “I’m sorry about your car.”
“Mike, did she tell you I’d be at her house?”
“Yeah. She said we should come by around seven. She said she’d keep you busy until late.”
Busy until late. Dooley actually chuckled to himself. He knew how Jimmy Vincent felt now. Used, and used well.
But it hadn’t seemed like that at all. Not at all.
“Detective Ashe?”
“Yeah?”
“Am I really going to go to hell?”
Dooley shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“In church they say if you confess your sins, then you can be forgiven.”
“That’s not my department.”
Michael hung his head and felt the detective’s hand rub across his back. Then he heard the door open and shut fast.
* * *
Mary came into Whitetail 2 and found Elena on a bottom bunk, her back to the room and both hands pulled to her face. There was no one else around.
She sat down by the little girl and stroked the back of her head.
“Are you okay, sweetie?”
Elena’s head moved barely up and down.
“Are you sure?” Mary pressed gently, her voice low and sympathetic. Elena had been doing so well lately. Singing in the pageant, getting active again in and out of class. Playing the piano with her last night. Was this just not feeling well? Maybe a stomach ache? Mary hoped desperately that it was not a slide backward. “Do you hurt anywhere?”
icouldmakeYOUmakeherhurtMARY
The threat, Mandy’s threat, made her shiver. Mary sat back a little from her student and folded her hands tight on her lap.
“My head aches a little,” Elena said, her eyes blinking slowly at the cabin wall.
afraidtousethosehandsMARYyouresogoodwiththem
“Oh,” Mary said weakly. Her arms grew hot and she pressed her hands hard between her legs now, fingers flexing in and out of fists.
iwillmakeYOUhurtherMARYifyoudonttalktome
“I think I just need to lay here for a while,” Elena said.
You can’t make me do that. Not to one of my kids, you can’t.
wannabetMARY
Mary’s hands began to tingle painfully as if they’d been thrust into the midst of an angry beehive. They came up from between her legs trembling, the fingers coming out of fists and making big, opposing C’s in concert with her thumbs. Two C’s that could lock together like a clamp. A clamp that would fit just perfectly around Elena Markworth’s neck, thank you very much.
Mary seized all the energy she had inside, all that was still dedicated to her control of her actions, and made her hands go together, lacing the fingers. Squeezing them tight, making one big, joint...
Her eyes flared at the mistake she’d made.
...fist.
icanusethattooMARY
She could see it coming (But why can I see it coming?). Her one big fist would rise up, over her head like a...
(A what?)
...and slam down onto Elena’s head. Up again, down again.
fistsworkgoodMARYshallweusethem
Beating little Elena Markworth’s head, her face, her neck. Pounding, pounding, pounding.
doyouseeyourselfMARYdoyou
Yes, Mary answered feebly, silently. She did. She could.
“I might fall asleep,” Elena said, and sniffled against her pillow.
cometalktomeoriwillmakeyoudoitMARY
“Will you check on me before lunch in case I fall asleep?” Elena asked.
youknowiwillMARY
“I’ll come,” Mary answered, her hands relaxing and coming apart. She stood and backed away from Elena’s bunk, the little girl just lying there with her back to her teacher. “I’ll come.”
Forty Eight
Joel was waiting outside the Bartlett Police Department Headquarters, breathing mist and checking his watch, when Dooley revved to a halt in the street.
“Where the hell were you?” Joel asked as he got in. “Where did you call from? I’ve been calling Mary’s house for an hour.”
Before Joel could belt himself in, Dooley was on the accelerator, speeding toward Roman Boulevard.
“Jesus, what’s the rush? Where are we going?”
“To get your killer.”
“What are you talking about?”
Dooley floored it and took an oncoming lane to pass some old woman in a Mazda Cosmo. “I’m talking about Mary.”
* * *
Mary followed a trail that led past the staff building and wove deep into the forest. Trees seemed to crowd her as she penetrated their home. That was what she felt, though none of the tall, slender pines had done as much as shift in the light, whistling wind. Still, she sensed something closing in on her, so she walked tentatively, rigidly, her pace even and her arms drawn tight and defensive across her front as if to block a body blow that might come at any second. Her head was bowed slightly, fearfully, her eyes having to look up to see straight ahead. At whatever lay ahead.
She hugged the center of the trail zealously and slipped further into the trees, the spreading cloak of their canopy thick and dark now, forming a second world within the world, one with its own witching sky. Deeper and deeper, through silence so total it had substance, a gentle wash of nothingness every few steps that made it feel like she was passing through veiled doorways. So, so quiet. Peaceful.
Terrifying.
The stone silence ended as Mary reached a point where the trail prepared to zig and zag upon itself to break the incline of a slope. She stopped, still hugging herself, and listened to what she heard. To what was coming from the forest off to her left.
A soft, soft humming. Soft and small.
Familiar. She knew it. The tune...
She turned toward the melody.
...that Dooley had played haltingly on her piano. The lullaby that was not a lullaby.
Mary left the center of the trail and stepped over the line of rocks that was its border. One foot, then the next, and now she was off the well marked path and wading into the sea of trees.
Walking carefully, quietly, pausing and touching the bark of each lean young pine she came to, peeking around it to see what lay past its brethren just ahead, Mary moved through the forest toward the humming. The darkness above seemed to drip from the canopy in a rain of shadow that made the world dim. Made this world dim.
Dim, but not impenetrable.
Mary pushed on, every step measured now, her eyes tuning to the din. She could not hear or see or feel the hound inside, a reality that was both comforting and troubling. For if the hound was not in her, where was it? The rational part of her being scoffed at both extremes, but the better part of Mary Austin could not. The hound might not be real for anyone else, as Mandy might not be, but both were very real to her. Had become very real. Might have always been real, been there, smoldering below the loam like embers of an old fire waiting for a wind...
‘Did something happen... Anything traumatic?’
...to fan them to blaze aga
in.
Dr. Cleary, Mary thought. He said that. It was his voice in the memory. But how?
Real, not real?
Mary not only touched the next tree she came to, she felt it, and wondered, Real, not real?
The rough bark gouged the skin of her palm, drawing blood from the raspberry scrape another tree had given her as she fled the voices Friday afternoon.
Real enough. Real real enough.
Real like the humming.
Mary moved past two more trees and stopped at the third, peeking cautiously around it. Real, she thought. Real like what she saw just ahead through the trees. Real like that.
Real like the little girl sitting on the log, humming sweetly, her pretty brown hair flowing down her back.
Mary crept closer and closer to the small patch of bare earth where the little girl sat, staying behind the trees as best she could, keeping quiet as best she could, advancing until she was at the close ring of pines that circled the clearing. She planted herself behind one of those, peering around it like an embarrassed child, and stared hard at the little girl’s back and listened to her hum.
The humming stopped right then.
“Hello, Mary. You came. I knew you would.”
Mary moved to the next tree, then the next, getting part of a profile now of the pretty little girl.
“Come into the circle and talk to me.”
Mary shook her head and moved some more. She could see a full profile now. So very pretty, Mary thought, and leaned forward against the tree to admire the little girl’s clear, pure beauty. Perfect lines, the most darling nose, smooth cheeks the color of an autumn rose. So, so very pretty.
Mandy turned her pretty head and looked at Mary with eyes that spat white fire. “COME INTO THE CIRCLE AND TALK TO ME!”
Frightened, Mary put her face behind the tree and closed her eyes.
lookatmeMARYokaylookatme
“Don’t talk like that,” Mary pleaded. “Or like the other one.”
“Mary, please look at me.”
She pulled back from the scant shelter of the tree and looked at the little girl, who was smiling now at her with the most gorgeous eyes Mary had ever seen. Mary studied the face, the eyes, the smile for a moment, then moved astride the tree, one arm still around it. “I remember you.”
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