by Ann Warner
A: No.
Q: Did your mom and dad ever have fights?
A: Not exactly. Well, they yelled sometimes.
Q: Now, the week before your mom died, you two had a conversation about life and death, is that right?
A: Yes.
Q: Can you tell us what she said?
A: Mom told me it don’t pay to fall in love with no man. She said she ain’t happy and she don’t know what she’s going to do. And she started in to crying.
Q: Did your mom ever say she wanted to die?
A: Sometimes she said she wished she was dead. But I know she didn’t mean it. She loved us.
Q: Did you love your mom, Hailey?
A: Yes.
Q: Do you love your daddy?
A: Yes.
Q: No more questions, Your Honor.
“When I read that, I was furious,” Hailey said, nodding toward the pages he was holding. “I thought, what was Dillon thinking, putting a ten-year-old child on the witness stand. For what? I added nothing of substance. Nothing. The prosecutor didn’t even bother to object when I told the jury what my mom said.”
“I’m sure Mr. Dillon did it to remind the jury you existed and would be affected by their verdict.”
“Clearly. And just as clear, I failed to be pitiful enough. You know, I cried myself to sleep for months afterwards, thinking I’d said something that hurt my dad, and I’ve hauled around a feeling of guilt ever since, all for nothing. He’s guilty, isn’t he?”
“I’d need to read the entire transcript before I could give you an opinion. But from the parts you’ve shown me, there are some loose ends. What do you remember about that day?”
“All I remember is getting called out of class. Aunt Iris, Mom’s sister, was waiting for me in the office. She told me Mom was in the hospital. But once we were in the car she told me the truth.” Hailey stopped, gulped. “After that, everything is confused. Lots of comings and goings. Clusters of people talking in whispers and shutting up if they noticed me watching them.”
“What about your brother? Where was he through all this?”
Hailey frowned. “I don’t think Adam was around until later, but I don’t really remember.”
“Did the police ever ask you any questions?”
She shook her head. “No. Adam and I went home with Iris the night it happened, and we stayed a couple of days. Until the funeral. Then we went back to our apartment.”
“Was Adam questioned later?”
“Not that I remember.”
“Did you and he ever talk about that day?”
“No. Why are you asking so many questions about Adam?”
“In the interview with the police, your dad said Adam got home from school before your mom was shot. So did you and Adam come home at different times?”
Hailey sat, chewing on her lip and slipping the rings off and on her fingers. “No. That’s not right. We got out at the same time. And we didn’t usually get home until after Mom left for work.”
Gerrum picked up the pages, looking for the interview Hailey’s father gave the police that he’d read on a previous visit. “Here. The way your dad tells it, he and your mom just finished lunch and she was getting dressed for work when Adam got home.”
“He must have been suspended or maybe he skipped school. That happened a lot when he was older.” She sat frowning over her thoughts and Gerrum waited to see what else she remembered.
“I thought I’d read the transcript and find all the answers. Instead it just feels more mysterious.”
“Have you thought about talking to your dad?”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“It took guts for you to revisit this. It might be easier to put it behind you if you have the whole story.”
“If I ask him about it, he might lie.”
“You’re smarter than he is. I think you’d recognize what was true.”
He left her then, certain she was coping with what she’d learned, but he came home to questions from Clen that forced him to balance between his need to be open with her and his promise to keep private matters private.
It was one of the most uncomfortable positions he’d ever been in.
Chapter Twenty-six
Clen left for the lodge to start dinner, and Gerrum sat down to finish reading the newspaper before going to the harbor. There was a knock on the door and when he opened it, Hailey flung herself across the threshold and into his arms. He nudged the door shut and stood in his front hall holding her while she sobbed incoherently. When she was calm, he led her to the kitchen and made tea.
“I figured it out, Gerrum. What’s wrong with Dad’s picture. He smoked. And he always had a pack of cigarettes tucked in his sleeve.”
“The police could have taken them away before they took the photo.”
“But it was taken in our apartment, and I remembered something else. The shirt he was wearing. It was Adam’s.”
“You think Adam shot your mom?”
“I don’t know. But he had terrible nightmares. He’d wake up screaming, with his hands over his ears. And he acted funny about guns. Grammie had a twenty-two she used to shoot at foxes. Adam refused to touch it. And he was so...angry all the time. I just thought...oh, I don’t know what I thought.” She bit her lip, looking frustrated. “Sally said he was trying to beat a train at a crossing, but I think it may have been suicide.” Hailey’s eyes once again filled with tears. “I don’t understand anything. Maybe Dad didn’t do it. Maybe he’s innocent. But if he didn’t do it, it means Adam did.”
“Maybe it was an accident. Remember your dad saying the gun needed to be cocked, and being shocked that it didn’t?”
“He left the gun right by the bed. Who leaves a loaded gun laying around when they have kids?”
“You told me he isn’t very smart, Hailey. Maybe that’s why.”
Eventually, Hailey left, and not two minutes later, Terry called. “Gerr, real sorry to do this to you, but I got to dump a trip on you. I’m supposed to be at the harbor, meeting the clients, matter of fact. But Jenny’s water just broke. We’re on the way to the hospital soon as she gets her bag packed. Clients are good ones. Brothers. They like the area around Thorne Bay. Booked for two days. Names are...yeah, hon, give me a minute here...”
“That’s okay. I’ve got it. You take care of Jenny.”
“Thanks, Gerr. Make it up to you once the little guy gets here.”
“Just go.”
Gerrum grabbed his own kit and a change of clothes. On the way to the marina, he stopped at the lodge to tell Clen what was happening. When no one responded to his hello, he scribbled a quick note and left it on the counter.
The first thing he did after returning from that trip was to stop at the lodge to see Clen. He found John and Marian working on dinner.
“Hey, where’s Clen?”
“She had to go home. Her mom’s in the hospital.” John dried his hands on a towel. “Here’s the number where she can be reached.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I expect she’s probably called and left you a message by now telling you what’s happening.”
“We heard about the baby,” Marian said. “They finally had a boy. Terry’s ecstatic.”
“Yeah. I better get cleaned up.” He backed through the screen door which he was careful not to bang, because Marian hated when it banged. Walking to his house, knowing he wouldn’t be seeing Clen, it felt like he was carrying something much heavier than an overnight bag.
He went directly to the phone to check his messages. There was only one—Marian from two days ago saying Clen wasn’t feeling well and went to lie down.
How could there be no message from Clen? Maybe she didn’t have time before she left, but by now she would have. Feeling uneasy, he dialed the number Clen left with the Jeffers.
“Could I speak to Clen please?”
“Clen? Oh, you mean Michelle. I don’t know why she insists on that name.”
“Could I speak to Michelle
, then.”
“I’m afraid she isn’t here.”
“Will she be back soon?”
“Now why would you think that? Michelle hasn’t been home in over a year.”
“Mrs. McClendon?”
“Yes. And you are?”
“You aren’t sick?”
“Excuse me?”
He took a deep breath. “Clen, that is Michelle, is a friend of mine. Two days ago she left Wrangell, suddenly. To go home because her mother was in the hospital.”
“How odd. I’m perfectly fine.”
“Do you have any idea where she might be?”
“What did you say your name was?”
“Gerrum Kirsey.”
“Oh yes. I believe Michelle has mentioned you. You’re the author?”
“That’s right. About Clen? I mean Michelle. Do you know where she is?”
“I suppose she could be at the abbey. She seemed so attached to it, we were beginning to think she might become a nun.”
“Could you tell me the abbey’s name and location?”
“Let me see. It’s on the tip of my tongue. Oh, I know...Resurrection, that’s it. It’s somewhere in Vermont. Or she may be visiting her brother. Just like her not to tell us her plans.”
He got the brother’s number and gave Mrs. McClendon his number and asked her to call if she heard from Clen. The brother, Jason, didn’t answer his phone, and he still wasn’t answering in the morning. Frustrated and beginning to feel deeply worried, Gerrum filled the time between attempted calls with a trip downtown to pick up groceries.
Outside the IGA, he encountered Maude, who reached out a pudgy hand to grab his sleeve. “I heard Clen left. Is it true?”
He stared at the hand crumpling his shirt without permission until, with a sniff, she released him. “Well, all I can say is, it serves you right, Gerrum Kirsey.”
What did?
“Don’t you try that innocent act with me. I seen what you and Hailey was up to.”
Maude in full cry, going after the dirt, like one of those dogs, some kind of terrier, weren’t they? The ones that dig out badgers. Maude badgering. Then she and her cohorts would morph into hyenas, chewing on the bones of everybody’s lives.
He’d always laughed Maude off, but not this time. “What is it you thought you saw Hailey and me up to?” His teeth were gritted, chopping the words into tight, brittle bits.
Maude took a half step away.
“What did you do?”
Maude shook her head, preening like a ratty old hen. “Well I never. I didn’t do nothing. Just made sure Clen knew what you were doing. Seems to me a man ought to stick with one woman at a time, and I’m sure Clen agrees with me. Not that you and she aren’t already a scandal.”
The bright sun reflected in the gleam in Maude’s eyes. Eyes as pitiless as those of a dead fish. Gerrum clenched his hands into fists to keep from slapping her silly. Right in the middle of downtown Wrangell with God knew who watching. And if she’d been a man, he wouldn’t have hesitated. Maude took another shuffling step away from him. In her place, he would have taken more than a step.
“You, Maude Tillotson, are a nasty, useless old gossip. Get out of my face and stay out.” Cold, his voice was, like snowmelt water.
Maude gave him one more glance, a peculiar combination of satisfaction and fear, and scurried away. He stood for a moment, breathing deeply, trying to still the flare of rage she’d ignited. Rage hot enough to set something ablaze.
After talking to Clen’s mother, his mind had spun like an unattached flywheel, not coming up with a single useful thought about Clen’s leaving, until Maude’s words engaged a gear. Marian. He needed to speak with her. After all, she was the last person to talk to Clen.
“What do you hear from Clen, Gerrum?” Marian asked when he arrived at the lodge.
He shook his head. “Nothing. Her mother’s fine, so that isn’t the reason she left. I’ve been wracking my brain trying to come up with another explanation, but I’ve been drawing a blank, until I ran into Maude. She said the most amazing thing.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet. You and Hailey. Sitting right there, in front of God and man, holding hands. And you going to her house when Clen was tied up at the lodge.”
“What?”
“Lord, Gerrum, it can’t be a surprise. Maude’s told everyone in Wrangell. The old witch isn’t happy unless she’s stirring in someone’s pot besides her own. Clen didn’t pay any more attention to her than the rest of us do.”
Of course, he knew that. And yet... “Tell me about the last time you talked to Clen. The way she looked, acted.”
Marian frowned. “Well, let me see. I came in and found her starting dinner. When I spoke to her, she turned around looking like she’d just lost her best friend, but when she said she had a migraine, I figured that explained it.”
“That was Tuesday, right?”
“Right. I sent her off to bed. The next morning she said she was still feeling lousy, but she’d gotten a call her mom was ill. I drove her to the airport and that was that.”
“Did she take all her stuff with her?
“I’m not sure.”
“Could I take a look?”
Marian nodded and fetched a key. Together they walked down the hall to Clen’s room. They found the bed stripped and the sheets folded on the bedspread. Closets and drawers were uniformly empty. The only personal items were large bottles of shampoo and lotion and an easel and a stack of blank canvases, all things easily replaced.
“It doesn’t look like she expects to come back,” Marian said, looking around.
Gerrum walked slowly back to his house, trying to arrange the bits and pieces of evidence into a coherence that might explain something that felt inexplicable. He came up with only one possibility. On Tuesday, shortly after Clen left, Hailey had shown up. He’d stood in the hallway holding Hailey at least two, three minutes. During that time, Clen must have come back and seen them.
How long did she stand watching? A few seconds? Longer? And then what? According to Marian, she went to the lodge, started dinner, then complained of a headache. If he hadn’t had the unexpected trip, when Marian called to tell him Clen wasn’t feeling well, he would have gone to check on her. If she’d refused to see him, he would have insisted. Would have held her until she gentled. Until she realized she’d been mistaken in thinking him capable of betrayal.
A day of strong emotion. Blinding anger at Maude. Anger at Clen too, although he needed to cut her some slack since she’d been betrayed before. But it was still agonizing to know that when Clen was faced with the choice to trust or to doubt, she’d chosen doubt.
The thought brought bottomless, fathomless grief. Enough to drown in.
“Hell, Gerr,” John said. “You’re like a bear just out of hibernation, and winter hasn’t started. When are you going after her?”
“Not sure I am.”
“Now you know that’s pride speaking. If she did see you with Hailey, you’ve got to admit she didn’t up and leave for no reason. And what you two have, isn’t it worth the effort to see if you can save it?”
“If what we had was so great, how could one small thing smash it?”
“That was no small thing. If Marian caught me with a beautiful young woman in my arms, she’d want an explanation, and it would have to be a damn good one. I trust yours is. Go find her. Have it out with her, at least. You’ll regret it the rest of your life if you don’t.”
John was right. If he went after Clen and she believed him, the happiness they’d shared might return. If he did nothing, any chance at happiness would be lost.
But whether to go after Clen was a moot point. He didn’t know where she’d gone. Her brother finally answered his phone and said he’d neither heard from Clen nor did he have any idea where she might be. It meant her mother’s suggestion, Resurrection Abbey, was the only place left to check.
He asked John if he knew where Resurrection was located, and John dug out the letter Clen sen
t. There was no phone number, but the address enabled him to get the number from Information.
He asked the woman who answered the abbey’s phone if he could speak to Clen.
“Oh, we never disturb our retreatants. Not unless there’s a family emergency. Is this a family emergency?”
“Not exactly.” But of course that’s exactly what it was.
