“Just leave me alone.”
There was a small desk in the corner of the room where his laptop sat beside a manila folder. A duffel bag was on the floor in front of the bed. She went over to the desk to pack up his computer. She picked up the folder and peeked inside, finding the coroner’s report on his father, but she didn’t read it. She didn’t want to know the details of his death. She couldn’t bear the thought of Jake’s father lying on the road, all the pain and suffering he’d had to endure because of her, because of Linnet. They’d been so young and selfish. They’d been cowards. She wanted to cry out to her mother and tell her how sorry she was, how the child in her hadn’t understood the ramifications of her decision, but the adult in her understood her mother’s need for help even if it had meant leaving them. She wiped her cheeks.
Jake was leaning up on his elbows watching her.
“My mother was depressed,” she said. “And I hated your father for being the person who made her happy.” She jammed her finger into her chest. “Why couldn’t I make her happy? Or my sister? Or my father? What was wrong with us?” She swiped a tear from her chin.
“I don’t know.” He got up and stumbled, grabbing the manila folder and shoving it into the duffle bag. “I think I’m going to be sick.” He raced to the bathroom, bumping into the wall before dropping to his knees and emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet.
Voices from the bar traveled upstairs. One of the men shouted profanity. They had to get out of here. She stuffed the laptop into Jake’s bag. She picked up a few more of his personal items scattered about the room: a pair of socks, a belt, his car keys. He wasn’t driving anywhere tonight. She shoved the keys into the pocket of her jeans. They’d pick up his car tomorrow. She poked her head inside the bathroom. He sat on the dirty tile floor, slumped against the wall.
“Do you think you can make it to my car?”
He nodded. She closed the lid and flushed. Then she reached for his hands and helped him up. They used the fire escape rather than going through the bar. She carried his computer bag and duffel bag. He concentrated on walking, trying not to slip on the wet metal stairs. The thunderstorm that had lit up the sky had eased, but the air was charged. The storm wasn’t over. It had just paused to take a breath. The sticky sweet scent of cherry blossoms filled Myna’s nose, the pink petals now clumped into wet soggy piles underneath their feet. They reached her rental car. She tossed the duffel bag into the back, laying the bag with his laptop down more gently.
“Where are you taking me?” he asked, resting his head against the back of the seat. His eye was nearly swollen shut from the punch he took on his cheek.
“The Snow Goose,” she said.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Linnet lay awake, watching the shadows move across the walls. Outside, the rain had stopped and then started again, pounding the roof for another round. Thunder marched across the night sky. Next to her, Ian snored softly. He’d dozed off some time ago, but only after she’d told him what she and Myna had done.
“I get that you were scared,” he’d said, rubbing her back, comforting her. “But Jesus, to just leave him there?”
“I know,” she’d said, curling her body around his, wanting to disappear in his arms. They were quiet for a longtime until she’d summoned the courage to ask the question to which she’d always feared the answer. “Does this change how you feel about me?”
“What? No, nothing could change how I feel about you.”
“Not even this?” she’d asked.
“Not even this,” he’d said.
She looked at his face, his fair skin like a halo in the dark. The thing she loved most about him—his acceptance of her faults, his goodness—couldn’t touch her tonight. What should’ve brought her closer to him had the opposite effect. His kindness only magnified her shame, as though he’d smeared it on a slide and put it under a microscope.
Shame either belonged to you or it didn’t. It couldn’t be shared, unless the person had taken part in whatever had caused it in the first place. Ian couldn’t understand this, but her sister could. They were feathers of the same bird.
Linnet slipped from underneath the covers as quietly as she could, reached for her robe, and crept into the hall. She paused outside of Hank’s bedroom and peeked inside. His arm was flung over his head, his mouth open. If it wasn’t for the thunderstorm, she’d hear the same breathy snoring of his father. I love you, she said, and pulled his door closed, then pushed it open a crack. She couldn’t bear the thought of having him sealed off from her, not completely anyway, for even a second.
She busied herself in the kitchen by making two cups of hot tea. She’d offer her sister something warm to drink. It could be her excuse for going to her room. She could say I couldn’t sleep. I thought maybe you couldn’t either, and hand her a steaming cup of herbal blend. Myna would take it, and they would talk, and maybe somehow, someway, they could start to find their way back to each other.
Linnet grabbed the tea kettle from the stove. She turned toward the counter. Lightning lit up the sky.
A man’s face appeared on the other side of the garden window, startling her.
The kettle fell from her hand with a clatter. The boiling water splattered the front of her robe, nearly scorching her skin. She plucked the kettle from the counter and placed it in the sink. She was shaking, straining to listen for any sounds, waiting for the next lightning strike. She didn’t have to wait long. Thunder cracked and lightning illuminated the yard. The man was there again. Her hand flew to her chest. She recognized the high cheekbones, the strong jaw. Al.
She hurried to the door and yanked it open. “Al,” she called. “Get in here.” He appeared from around the corner, a black mass inching his way toward her. When he was close she said, “What in the world are you doing out there?” and grabbed his arm, pulling him inside and out of the storm. “You scared me half to death.”
He dripped water onto the floor. His boots were muddy. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“I was just about to make some tea.” She walked back to the sink. She refilled the kettle with water and set it on the stove, wondering whether she should wake up Ian. Maybe he’d heard the commotion and he was already getting out of bed to investigate.
Al sat at the table dripping fresh water onto the wooden floor. She grabbed a couple hand towels from the drawer and dropped them by his feet. She sat across from him.
“It’s past midnight, Al. What are you doing here?” The hallway that led to her bedroom and Hank’s was quiet. The entire house was silent. No one had woken up. She secured the robe around her waist.
He scratched the stubble on his chin.
She blinked. Did he hear her? “Al, what were you doing in the backyard?”
The phone rang. They both started. She got up from the table, clutching her robe at the collar, and picked up the receiver.
“I’m sorry to call so late, but I need to talk with you,” Charlie said. He continued before she could ask if this had to do with Pop. “When was the last time you saw Al?”
She put her back to Al and lowered her voice. “What is this about?”
“I’ll tell you everything once I find him.”
“He’s here,” she whispered.
“He’s there? With you? Now?”
“Yes.” She felt Al watching her.
“Don’t let him leave. I’m on my way,” he said, and hung up.
She put the phone back in the charger. Her movements were slow and deliberate. Her heart thudded against her rib cage. What could Charlie want with Al? She turned around and pointed to the hallway. “I should get Ian.”
“No,” Al said much too quickly, making her jump. He removed his baseball cap and twisted it in his hands, ringing the water out and onto the table.
She didn’t move.
“You’re afraid of me,” he said. “I can see it in your face.”
“Yes,” she said, and swallowed. “I am a little. I’m not sure w
hat’s going on here.”
“I’d never hurt you,” he said.
“Then tell me what’s going on. I don’t understand why you’re here in the middle of the night, but if you don’t tell me soon, I’m going to get Ian.” And then what? She didn’t know. She glanced at the entrance to the hallway and bedroom where her husband lay sleeping, where Hank’s door was ajar.
“I should go,” he said, and stood, pushing the chair back and nearly knocking it over.
“No,” she said, and reached for him. She had to keep him here, and yet she wanted nothing more than for him to leave. She squeezed his arm, feeling his muscle underneath her palm. “Not yet.”
His eyes searched her body through the thin, silky robe.
The side door flew open.
She cried out in relief at the sight of her sister. But no, not Jake, too. What was he doing here? Why was Myna propping him up?
Myna froze, clearly not expecting to see Linnet with Al. A thousand questions moved across Myna’s face. Linnet was about to say it wasn’t what it looked like when Ian walked into the kitchen.
“What’s going on?” he asked, wearing only pajama bottoms, his chest and feet bare. There was something accusatory in his tone.
“I…” Linnet said.
Al stared at her, twisting his hat in his hands.
“Can I get some help here?” Myna asked, cutting her off, struggling to keep Jake upright.
Ian scooted around the table, past Linnet and Al, and slipped his arm around Jake’s waist.
“Let’s put him in the guest room next to mine,” Myna said. “I should keep an eye on him so he doesn’t pass out and get sick and choke or something.”
“Someone really did a number on you,” Ian said to Jake.
Jake reached up and touched his face. He winced.
“I should go,” Al said, and took a step forward.
“Wait,” Linnet said just as there was a knock on the door. “That must be Charlie.” She rushed to let him in.
Charlie was dressed in uniform. He stepped inside, eying the five of them. Water dripped from the rim of his police chief’s hat. Thunder rumbled. The wind blew the rain sideways against the house. Linnet rubbed her arms against the chill prickling her skin. They all seemed to be waiting for someone to speak.
“Why don’t you take Jake upstairs,” Linnet said to Myna.
“Our friend had one too many,” Ian said to Charlie. “He needs to sleep it off.”
There was a moment when Jake met Linnet’s gaze. She pulled in a sharp breath, fearing he was going to lash out at her and make a scene. But he didn’t say or do anything. Instead, he allowed himself to be helped out of the room and upstairs to one of the guest rooms to be dealt with later.
“Al,” Charlie said. “I need you to come with me.”
Al nodded and wiped his brow.
“What has he done?” she asked.
“Do you want to tell her?” Charlie asked.
Al shook his head.
“Maybe you want to meet us down at the station,” Charlie said to Linnet. “I think you’ll want to see your dad.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Myna and Ian helped Jake into one of the guest rooms with a little more urgency now that Charlie was downstairs. Neither one admitted to rushing Jake along, but there was an unspoken understanding, a catch of an eye, that said there was no need for Charlie to know what Linnet and Myna had done. It was clear Ian knew everything. The blaming way he’d looked at her as though it had been her fault. Of course he’d feel that way, wanting to believe his wife had had as little as possible to do with the decisions made that night.
“Lie down,” Myna said to Jake. “I’ll get your bags from the car.”
“You might want to grab him an ice pack for that cheek,” Ian said.
Jake lay down on the bed, keeping one foot on the floor to stop the room from spinning.
“I’ll be right back,” she said.
Ian followed her out and closed the door behind him. She opened her mouth to explain her side of the story.
“Stop right there,” he said. “You don’t have to say another word. It was wrong what you did. I don’t like it. I don’t like to think about my wife being capable of something so cruel.”
“But…”
He cut her off. “But I think I understand. At least, I’m trying to.” They started walking. “So what’s he doing here?” He hitched his thumb, indicating Jake sleeping it off in the guest room.
“He had nowhere else to go.”
Ian snorted. “You’re going to need to come up with a better reason than that for your sister.”
* * *
Back in the kitchen, Charlie and Al had gone. Linnet was dressed. She grabbed her purse and car keys. “I’m going down to the station,” she said. “It has something to do with Pop, but I’m not sure what. I already called Greg Lyons and told him to meet me there.”
“I’ll go get dressed,” Ian said. “I’m coming with you.”
“I’d feel better if I knew you were here in case Hank wakes up.” She turned to Myna. “You’re not off the hook. You’re going to tell me why in the hell you brought Jake back here and your reason had better be good.” She left before Myna had a chance to reply.
“What did I tell you?” Ian said, and went to check on Hank, leaving Myna alone.
* * *
Myna opened the freezer and pulled out a couple of ice cubes, dropping them in the center of a tea towel. Then she headed outside for Jake’s duffel bag and computer. She returned to Jake’s room with his bags and the ice. He opened the one eye he could when she walked in.
“Here,” she said putting the ice on his swollen cheek. He raised his hand to hold it against his face, and she noticed the ring once again.
“Thanks.” His voice was hoarse.
She lay on the bed next to him. It seemed like the right thing to do, to not leave him alone just yet. Two geese sculptures hung on the wall, the male slightly larger, wings spread in flight, flying inches ahead of the female. She thought of Ben. They’d exchanged several texts and one phone call earlier before she’d gotten the message from Rodney to come and pick up Jake. Ben had been supportive, kind, showing his concern for her father. His love for her was in the words he hadn’t spoken, and it touched her deeply.
“Did you know that snow geese mate for life?” she asked.
Jake didn’t answer. She checked to see if he was asleep. His eyes were closed, the towel full of ice covering his cheek. She reached and turned off the light on the nightstand. She was about to get up and go back to her room when he said, “I think she knew about the affair.”
She turned toward him, seeing only the profile of his face in the shadows. “Who? Your mom?”
He removed the ice from his cheek and turned his head on the pillow. They were face-to-face, but they couldn’t see each other. Maybe some things were better left said in the dark.
“I think she was trying to protect me from the truth.”
She didn’t know what to say, but she sensed that he didn’t want her to say anything. He put the ice pack back on his swollen cheek.
A few seconds passed. He cleared his throat. “I guess she wanted me to believe my father was a good man. Or maybe that’s just what she needed to believe.” He turned his head away, talking into the empty space in the room. “I guess I’ll never really know.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Linnet sat across the table from Charlie in a room that had no windows and was the color of pea soup. Al sat next to her, wringing his baseball cap in his hands. He smelled wet. The muscles in his chest and arms bulged underneath the soggy clothes clinging to his skin. Water dripped from his chin. He’d admitted to standing outside in the B&B’s backyard since the thunderstorm had started, lurking, trying to get up the courage to talk with her.
Now he asked her to stay with him. He wanted her to hear it from him first before word got out around town.
Linnet sat motionless, waiting f
or what was coming next. On the outside, she appeared calm, in control. On the inside, she was screaming, What’s happening here? She wanted to see Pop.
“I’ll get right to the point,” Charlie said, finally. “We found fibers from a glove on the pole that struck Professor Coyle. The fibers match your gloves, Al.”
Al lowered his head.
Linnet knew Al had always worn work gloves whenever he’d worked at the B&B. They were either on his hands or he was twisting them out of a nervous habit. But this was the first she’d heard about the fibers. “If you knew about the gloves, why did you arrest Pop?”
“I just got the report a couple of hours ago.” Charlie rubbed his eye. “All the evidence pointed to your dad at first look. But that’s not the case now.”
“What about this witness you mentioned who saw Pop and Professor Coyle together?”
“He saw them at the dam. I was hoping Al, here, could fill in the details about what happened afterward.”
“He wasn’t supposed to be messing with the birds,” Al said. “No one was supposed to touch them.”
Charlie held up his hand. “Hang on,” he said, and slid a sheet of paper across the desk. “This is a written Miranda warning. Read it and then sign here.” He pointed to where Al should sign his name.
Al scanned it before signing. Then he started talking fast, as though he couldn’t hold the truth inside any longer. “We were arguing. He wouldn’t listen to me. He was just so belligerent and cocky. I’m not sure who pushed who first, but the next thing I knew I was wrestling the pole away from him. And then I, I…” He faltered.
“And then you what?” Charlie asked.
Al hesitated. “I didn’t know he was from the university. Everything happened so fast.”
“Did you hit him with the pole, Al?”
Al nodded. He turned to Linnet. “I never meant for your dad to be arrested. I couldn’t live with myself knowing I hurt you.”
“But what were you doing there at night? Why would you be in the yard?” she asked.
“I wanted to knock down the beehive in one of the maple trees before I set to trimming the branches like you wanted. It’s best to knock it down at night when all the bees are inside and less active.” He looked at Charlie. “But I didn’t get around to it that night because of that guy.” He turned to Linnet. “I did come back later though and knock it down for you. Your sister saw me. So you don’t have to worry about the bees.”
The Sisters of Blue Mountain Page 26
