Burying Water
Page 16
I inhale the fresh air, Amber’s words drifting off as my thoughts wander. Will I still be here for all of that? I hope that I am. This place feels like it fits me somehow.
I pull my fingers out of the stream, red from the brief exposure, and stand. “This water is freezing!”
“Yeah, and it doesn’t warm up much. Jesse and I used to swim in it as kids. We’d be blue when we came out, even in the middle of summer.”
Jesse.
“Hey, Ginny doesn’t seem to like your brother much, does she?” I play my curiosity down by picking up a stone and tossing it, creating a small splash.
“You think?” she mutters wryly. “Why? What’d she say?”
“She didn’t. She just called him a ‘bad egg’ and told me to stay away from him.”
“That’s probably not bad advice.” I feel her eyes on me. “When we were in grade school, we still hung out together a lot. Had some of the same friends. But then we got to high school and Jesse started hanging out with trouble. The ‘riffraff,’ my dad called them. The kids who got arrested for drugs, and stealing, and vandalism. Two of them are in jail now.” I look over to see her face twisted in disgust. “Can you imagine how that looked for my dad? Everyone knows our family around here. Some of the stuff that happened . . . I’ve never seen my mom cry like that over anything before.”
“So Jesse did all that stuff too?” The guy who brought me all that wood might also steal from me?
Amber shrugs. “I mean, he smoked pot, but not the other stuff. It was just bad enough that he was around it. Stupid teenage boy syndrome. I know he got teased a lot about being the sheriff’s son. People were always nervous around us, thinking we’d rat them out if they did something wrong. It wasn’t as hard on me, though. Probably because I’m a girl.
“Anyway, my dad and Jesse have been butting heads for years, but they haven’t been too bad lately. Jesse’s got problems with being controlled and my dad has problems with not being in control.” Giving Felix the Black a gentle slap on the hind, Amber starts walking toward the house, box of grooming supplies in hand. “I have to get going to work.”
I follow, leaving the horses to graze.
“I think my dad wanted to talk to you about that new ID.”
Yeah, I want to talk to him about that too. “I need to give him a new name before he can finish up the paperwork.”
Amber yanks a flower from the ground, twirling it between her fingertips. “I can’t imagine naming myself. It’d be weird. What were you thinking of?”
“I have no idea. But I should come up with something soon. I’ll be meeting new people, hopefully getting a job. I don’t want it to be as Jane anymore.”
“My mom mentioned something about asking Dakota for a job.”
That art store that takes Ginny’s quilts. “She said Dakota went to school with you?”
“Yeah . . .” Amber hesitates, and I can tell she wants to tell me more.
“What is it?”
“It’s just, she’s nice enough, but . . .” She cringes. “No. I’ll let you form your own opinions. But if she offers you brownies, just say no.”
I frown. “What’s wrong with eating her brownies?”
Amber shakes her head but doesn’t answer that. “Just remember to keep the information about yourself to yourself, okay? She grew up in this town, so knowing everyone else’s business and spreading it is in her blood. Figure out a story about who you are to Ginny and stick to it. God knows the whole town will be buzzing when they learn the Crazy Tree Quilt Lady has someone living with her.”
“So lie?”
“Yes. Pretty much. Otherwise everyone will come up with their own stories about you.” I turn to catch her eyes on the side of my face, on my scar. Amber and Meredith are just about the only two people I’m not self-conscious around. They’ve both seen me at my worst. But the idea of new eyes—so many new eyes—on my face for the first time makes my shoulders tense up.
We’re just passing the barn when a slam cracks the quiet, followed by the low rumble of an engine. An inexplicable warmth flows through me. Somehow I know that’s Jesse’s car. It has to be. Ginny was ranting about how loud it was yesterday. I don’t mind the vibration deep in my chest, though. I actually like the feel of it. It’s somehow . . . comforting.
We round the side of the barn to find Ginny hanging off the edge of her porch with a quilt grasped in her fingers, a scowl on her brow as she glares over at the Welles property. Her lips are moving fast, to no one in particular. Complaining to the mangy dog behind her about Jesse, probably.
The black sports car pulls into view with Jesse in the driver’s seat, his crisp white shirt a stark contrast to his olive complexion and short, ash-brown hair. I can see both Meredith and Gabe in him, though he has certainly acquired his father’s bottomless gaze.
A bottomless gaze that’s settled on me. Even from this distance, I can feel its intensity.
He raises the hand that’s on his steering wheel. It’s not exactly a wave, but it’s as close to a “hello” as he has given me so far.
I instinctively look toward Ginny and find her glaring at me now.
When I turn back, Sheriff Gabe is standing next to Jesse’s car, in his uniform. He slaps the roof of his son’s car and points in the direction of the road. As if he’s kicking him out.
With a flat glare toward his father and one last quick glance my way, Jesse guns the car, his tires kicking up rocks and dirt. The engine tears into the silence as he speeds away, and I watch the rectangular taillights disappear past the house.
“Guess I’ll be seeing ya, brother,” Amber mutters. She reaches out to pinch my elbow. “I’m working an afternoon stretch this week, so you won’t see me much. Text or call if you need anything.” I watch her leave, intentionally avoiding the glower I can feel boring holes into my back from the porch. I didn’t do anything wrong! Maybe if I stand here long enough, Ginny will forget.
Not likely.
“I thought he moved out!” Ginny’s reedy voice hollers.
Sheriff Gabe has thrown a leg over the fence and is headed my way, his boots crunching the gravel. I don’t really know him, not the way I know Meredith and Amber. He made a total of three visits to the hospital simply to say that there was nothing new to report about the investigation. For a man who deals with politicians, the media, and citizens, he’s not much of a talker. But his very presence—strong and controlled—must make up for it.
“Good morning, Ginny.” He reaches up to tip his hat toward her, ignoring her comment, making his way over to me. “How are you doing?”
“I’m good. How are you?”
His lips purse together and he nods once. I guess that’s his answer. Glancing back over his shoulder toward the house, where Ginny’s settling back down into her porch swing, he says, “I see Ginny’s in fine form?”
That makes me smile. “She’s okay.”
“I saw you in the barn earlier today, helping her with the horses. That’s good. She appreciates the help, even if she won’t ever say it.”
Now it’s my turn to nod. “You do a lot for her, don’t you?”
“I try to. Before her dad died, I promised him that I would. Our families go way back.” He pauses. “I’m glad you chose to come here. It was smart.”
“I didn’t have many options,” I admit, then quickly add, “but I’m glad, too. It’s beautiful here.”
He offers a small smile. “You’ll be safe here.”
Safe. That word. What does it really mean? Did I think I was safe before, too? Before I wasn’t? “Any news on my case?”
His frown returns. “No. All of the evidence is catalogued and I’m waiting for a break. I’m still watching the missing persons reports, but nothing fits.” Every time Sheriff Gabe talks about the investigation, he makes it sound like he’s taken on all the work himself. “There’ve been no inquiries of any kind coming across my desk.”
“So . . . what does that mean?”
He begins fumbling with the badge on his chest. “It means I don’t think whoever did this is actively looking for you. It was probably a guy driving through, on the way east or west, putting as much distance between your body and himself as he could. It’s not the first time I’ve heard of a body being dumped in the wilderness. He probably didn’t realize you were still alive. And with no DNA match to the criminal database, no witnesses, and no information about you, I’m aiming at targets in the dark. In outer space.”
I frown. “But didn’t you say the place was just outside town? That’s not really the wilderness, is it?”
“It is for city folk.”
“So, you’re saying he’s just going to get away with what he did to me.” The faceless man in my nightmare, his promise still weighing heavily on my mind, will walk free. Unpunished.
“I’m saying you’re safe here and you can put all of your focus on getting better. You don’t need to be afraid. As long as the guy thinks you’re dead, he has no reason to come back. So let’s keep it quiet. The people in Sisters don’t need to know the truth.”
He’s telling me to lie. Just like Amber did. I nod slowly.
Still grazing in the corral, Felix and Felix suddenly take off, the brown horse chasing the black one as they gallop through the stream, their powerful legs sending water splashing in every direction.
Water, splashing.
Water . . . splashing . . .
My eyes widen.
“What’s wrong?” Sheriff Gabe asks, sudden panic in his deep voice.
“I don’t . . .” My deep frown tugs at my scar. “I’m not sure . . .” There’s something . . . A feeling.
Is this what Dr. Weimer warned me about? A fragment of a memory?
“What is it?” Sheriff Gabe pushes, moving to stand in front of me to block my view of the stream, his stern, authoritative tone now in full effect, eyes black as coal sinking into me.
I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up, especially mine. It’s so vague, I couldn’t even describe it if I wanted to, except to say that it made me feel . . . happy.
“Jane?”
Ugh. Ginny’s right. Even Felix would be better than Jane. “I don’t know. It’s probably nothing. I was hoping it was something, but . . .” I shake my head slowly, watching the horses as they disappear over a crest. I guess that’s the only clue they’re going to give me and it’s not enough. “It’s not.”
Sheriff Gabe’s shoulders sag, almost with relief. “Amber gave you my direct line, right?”
I nod. The cell phone she dropped off yesterday came fully programmed with all of their numbers. Except for Jesse’s. For some reason, I noticed that straight away.
“Also, Jane, I need a name. The judge will sign off on the paperwork and we can get you temporary identification quickly, but I need a name.”
“How about Felix?” I joke half-heartedly.
He lets out a loud snort. It’s as close to a laugh as I’ve ever heard from him. “Listen, you can’t drive that truck off this property until you have a license. I don’t care what Ginny tells you. I’m still the sheriff.”
“Got it,” I agree solemnly. He tips his broad-rimmed hat, and then strolls away.
FIFTEEN
Jesse
then
“Jesse?” Her voice peels my attention away from the engine block I’ve been staring at for the past half hour. She’s standing in the doorway, her blond hair hanging damp around her shoulders, a bowl in one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other.
“Hey.” It comes out scratchy. It’s the first word I’ve said to anyone today, aside from Licks. I had to drag myself out of bed this morning to get here. Normally, I sleep until at least noon on the Saturdays that I’m not working. “Thanks for letting me in.” I assume it was Alex who opened the gate when I buzzed and rolled open the garage door when I pulled up to the house. Her car is the only one in the driveway. “I guess Viktor’s not around?”
“No. He didn’t come home last night. He just texted to see if you were here. He’s on his way.” A look of resignation passes across her face but she says nothing more about it. Maybe her candor about her husband last night was on account of the beer she chugged in front of me. She herself admitted that Viktor doesn’t let her drink. “I figured you could use breakfast.” My heart picks up its pace as she takes the three steps down, her blue jeans tight around her long, slender thighs. She’s wearing another T-shirt, but this one’s oversized and sliding off one of her thin shoulders.
“How’d you know?”
“That you don’t take care of yourself? Lucky guess.”
I pull my fingers out of the stream, red from the brief exposure, and stand. “This water is freezing!”
“Yeah, and it doesn’t warm up much. Jesse and I used to swim in it as kids. We’d be blue when we came out, even in the middle of summer.”
Jesse.
“Hey, Ginny doesn’t seem to like your brother much, does she?” I play my curiosity down by picking up a stone and tossing it, creating a small splash.
“You think?” she mutters wryly. “Why? What’d she say?”
“She didn’t. She just called him a ‘bad egg’ and told me to stay away from him.”
“That’s probably not bad advice.” I feel her eyes on me. “When we were in grade school, we still hung out together a lot. Had some of the same friends. But then we got to high school and Jesse started hanging out with trouble. The ‘riffraff,’ my dad called them. The kids who got arrested for drugs, and stealing, and vandalism. Two of them are in jail now.” I look over to see her face twisted in disgust. “Can you imagine how that looked for my dad? Everyone knows our family around here. Some of the stuff that happened . . . I’ve never seen my mom cry like that over anything before.”
“So Jesse did all that stuff too?” The guy who brought me all that wood might also steal from me?
Amber shrugs. “I mean, he smoked pot, but not the other stuff. It was just bad enough that he was around it. Stupid teenage boy syndrome. I know he got teased a lot about being the sheriff’s son. People were always nervous around us, thinking we’d rat them out if they did something wrong. It wasn’t as hard on me, though. Probably because I’m a girl.
“Anyway, my dad and Jesse have been butting heads for years, but they haven’t been too bad lately. Jesse’s got problems with being controlled and my dad has problems with not being in control.” Giving Felix the Black a gentle slap on the hind, Amber starts walking toward the house, box of grooming supplies in hand. “I have to get going to work.”
I follow, leaving the horses to graze.
“I think my dad wanted to talk to you about that new ID.”
Yeah, I want to talk to him about that too. “I need to give him a new name before he can finish up the paperwork.”
Amber yanks a flower from the ground, twirling it between her fingertips. “I can’t imagine naming myself. It’d be weird. What were you thinking of?”
“I have no idea. But I should come up with something soon. I’ll be meeting new people, hopefully getting a job. I don’t want it to be as Jane anymore.”
“My mom mentioned something about asking Dakota for a job.”
That art store that takes Ginny’s quilts. “She said Dakota went to school with you?”
“Yeah . . .” Amber hesitates, and I can tell she wants to tell me more.
“What is it?”
“It’s just, she’s nice enough, but . . .” She cringes. “No. I’ll let you form your own opinions. But if she offers you brownies, just say no.”
I frown. “What’s wrong with eating her brownies?”
Amber shakes her head but doesn’t answer that. “Just remember to keep the information about yourself to yourself, okay? She grew up in this town, so knowing everyone else’s business and spreading it is in her blood. Figure out a story about who you are to Ginny and stick to it. God knows the whole town will be buzzing when they learn the Crazy Tree Quilt Lady has someone living with her.”
“So lie?”
“Yes. Pretty much. Otherwise everyone will come up with their own stories about you.” I turn to catch her eyes on the side of my face, on my scar. Amber and Meredith are just about the only two people I’m not self-conscious around. They’ve both seen me at my worst. But the idea of new eyes—so many new eyes—on my face for the first time makes my shoulders tense up.
We’re just passing the barn when a slam cracks the quiet, followed by the low rumble of an engine. An inexplicable warmth flows through me. Somehow I know that’s Jesse’s car. It has to be. Ginny was ranting about how loud it was yesterday. I don’t mind the vibration deep in my chest, though. I actually like the feel of it. It’s somehow . . . comforting.
We round the side of the barn to find Ginny hanging off the edge of her porch with a quilt grasped in her fingers, a scowl on her brow as she glares over at the Welles property. Her lips are moving fast, to no one in particular. Complaining to the mangy dog behind her about Jesse, probably.
The black sports car pulls into view with Jesse in the driver’s seat, his crisp white shirt a stark contrast to his olive complexion and short, ash-brown hair. I can see both Meredith and Gabe in him, though he has certainly acquired his father’s bottomless gaze.
A bottomless gaze that’s settled on me. Even from this distance, I can feel its intensity.
He raises the hand that’s on his steering wheel. It’s not exactly a wave, but it’s as close to a “hello” as he has given me so far.
I instinctively look toward Ginny and find her glaring at me now.
When I turn back, Sheriff Gabe is standing next to Jesse’s car, in his uniform. He slaps the roof of his son’s car and points in the direction of the road. As if he’s kicking him out.
With a flat glare toward his father and one last quick glance my way, Jesse guns the car, his tires kicking up rocks and dirt. The engine tears into the silence as he speeds away, and I watch the rectangular taillights disappear past the house.
“Guess I’ll be seeing ya, brother,” Amber mutters. She reaches out to pinch my elbow. “I’m working an afternoon stretch this week, so you won’t see me much. Text or call if you need anything.” I watch her leave, intentionally avoiding the glower I can feel boring holes into my back from the porch. I didn’t do anything wrong! Maybe if I stand here long enough, Ginny will forget.
Not likely.
“I thought he moved out!” Ginny’s reedy voice hollers.
Sheriff Gabe has thrown a leg over the fence and is headed my way, his boots crunching the gravel. I don’t really know him, not the way I know Meredith and Amber. He made a total of three visits to the hospital simply to say that there was nothing new to report about the investigation. For a man who deals with politicians, the media, and citizens, he’s not much of a talker. But his very presence—strong and controlled—must make up for it.
“Good morning, Ginny.” He reaches up to tip his hat toward her, ignoring her comment, making his way over to me. “How are you doing?”
“I’m good. How are you?”
His lips purse together and he nods once. I guess that’s his answer. Glancing back over his shoulder toward the house, where Ginny’s settling back down into her porch swing, he says, “I see Ginny’s in fine form?”
That makes me smile. “She’s okay.”
“I saw you in the barn earlier today, helping her with the horses. That’s good. She appreciates the help, even if she won’t ever say it.”
Now it’s my turn to nod. “You do a lot for her, don’t you?”
“I try to. Before her dad died, I promised him that I would. Our families go way back.” He pauses. “I’m glad you chose to come here. It was smart.”
“I didn’t have many options,” I admit, then quickly add, “but I’m glad, too. It’s beautiful here.”
He offers a small smile. “You’ll be safe here.”
Safe. That word. What does it really mean? Did I think I was safe before, too? Before I wasn’t? “Any news on my case?”
His frown returns. “No. All of the evidence is catalogued and I’m waiting for a break. I’m still watching the missing persons reports, but nothing fits.” Every time Sheriff Gabe talks about the investigation, he makes it sound like he’s taken on all the work himself. “There’ve been no inquiries of any kind coming across my desk.”
“So . . . what does that mean?”
He begins fumbling with the badge on his chest. “It means I don’t think whoever did this is actively looking for you. It was probably a guy driving through, on the way east or west, putting as much distance between your body and himself as he could. It’s not the first time I’ve heard of a body being dumped in the wilderness. He probably didn’t realize you were still alive. And with no DNA match to the criminal database, no witnesses, and no information about you, I’m aiming at targets in the dark. In outer space.”
I frown. “But didn’t you say the place was just outside town? That’s not really the wilderness, is it?”
“It is for city folk.”
“So, you’re saying he’s just going to get away with what he did to me.” The faceless man in my nightmare, his promise still weighing heavily on my mind, will walk free. Unpunished.
“I’m saying you’re safe here and you can put all of your focus on getting better. You don’t need to be afraid. As long as the guy thinks you’re dead, he has no reason to come back. So let’s keep it quiet. The people in Sisters don’t need to know the truth.”
He’s telling me to lie. Just like Amber did. I nod slowly.
Still grazing in the corral, Felix and Felix suddenly take off, the brown horse chasing the black one as they gallop through the stream, their powerful legs sending water splashing in every direction.
Water, splashing.
Water . . . splashing . . .
My eyes widen.
“What’s wrong?” Sheriff Gabe asks, sudden panic in his deep voice.
“I don’t . . .” My deep frown tugs at my scar. “I’m not sure . . .” There’s something . . . A feeling.
Is this what Dr. Weimer warned me about? A fragment of a memory?
“What is it?” Sheriff Gabe pushes, moving to stand in front of me to block my view of the stream, his stern, authoritative tone now in full effect, eyes black as coal sinking into me.
I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up, especially mine. It’s so vague, I couldn’t even describe it if I wanted to, except to say that it made me feel . . . happy.
“Jane?”
Ugh. Ginny’s right. Even Felix would be better than Jane. “I don’t know. It’s probably nothing. I was hoping it was something, but . . .” I shake my head slowly, watching the horses as they disappear over a crest. I guess that’s the only clue they’re going to give me and it’s not enough. “It’s not.”
Sheriff Gabe’s shoulders sag, almost with relief. “Amber gave you my direct line, right?”
I nod. The cell phone she dropped off yesterday came fully programmed with all of their numbers. Except for Jesse’s. For some reason, I noticed that straight away.
“Also, Jane, I need a name. The judge will sign off on the paperwork and we can get you temporary identification quickly, but I need a name.”
“How about Felix?” I joke half-heartedly.
He lets out a loud snort. It’s as close to a laugh as I’ve ever heard from him. “Listen, you can’t drive that truck off this property until you have a license. I don’t care what Ginny tells you. I’m still the sheriff.”
“Got it,” I agree solemnly. He tips his broad-rimmed hat, and then strolls away.
FIFTEEN
Jesse
then
“Jesse?” Her voice peels my attention away from the engine block I’ve been staring at for the past half hour. She’s standing in the doorway, her blond hair hanging damp around her shoulders, a bowl in one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other.
“Hey.” It comes out scratchy. It’s the first word I’ve said to anyone today, aside from Licks. I had to drag myself out of bed this morning to get here. Normally, I sleep until at least noon on the Saturdays that I’m not working. “Thanks for letting me in.” I assume it was Alex who opened the gate when I buzzed and rolled open the garage door when I pulled up to the house. Her car is the only one in the driveway. “I guess Viktor’s not around?”
“No. He didn’t come home last night. He just texted to see if you were here. He’s on his way.” A look of resignation passes across her face but she says nothing more about it. Maybe her candor about her husband last night was on account of the beer she chugged in front of me. She herself admitted that Viktor doesn’t let her drink. “I figured you could use breakfast.” My heart picks up its pace as she takes the three steps down, her blue jeans tight around her long, slender thighs. She’s wearing another T-shirt, but this one’s oversized and sliding off one of her thin shoulders.
“How’d you know?”
“That you don’t take care of yourself? Lucky guess.”
