Never Knowing (21 page)

But I haven’t heard from John since. Not once. I wish I could be happy about that.

SESSION ELEVEN

I
can’t
sit still right now. I have to keep moving, have to walk around. My legs ache with frustration, with the unbearable agony of waiting. It must be driving you nuts, my bouncing around your office. You should see me at home—I pace from window to window, pulling up blinds, dropping them back down. Sweep up dirt, only to abandon the half-filled dustpan in the corner. Put half the dishes into the dishwasher, then start doing laundry. I stuff my mouth with peanut-butter-laden crackers, then race upstairs to Google, find a thread of something on one site, and follow it from site to site until my eyes are blurry.

Next I call Evan, who tells me to do some yoga, go to the gym, take Moose for a walk, but instead I pick fights with him over stupid stuff—because that makes so much more sense.

I make notes, charts. I have graphs for my graphs. My desk is peppered with Post-its, rapid thoughts scrawled in a jerky hand. It’s
not
helping. I ignore work e-mails or barely answer. I’m trying to buy myself time on some projects, trying to hang on to it all, but I’m losing my grip on everything.

*   *   *

As soon as I got home after our last session, Billy and Sandy pulled into my driveway. When I opened the front door and saw their grave faces, my stomach flipped.

“What’s wrong?”

“Let’s go inside,” Billy said.

“Tell me what’s going on first.” I searched his eyes. “Is Ally—”

“She’s fine.”

“Evan—”

“Your family’s all fine. Let’s go inside. Got some coffee?”

After I handed them theirs I leaned against the counter, the hard edge biting into my back, my clammy hands curled around the warm mug. Billy took a gulp of coffee; Sandy didn’t touch hers. She’d spilled something on her white shirt and her hair was a mess. Dark circles shadowed her eyes.

I said, “Did he kill someone?”

Sandy looked at me hard. “A female camper was reported missing this morning from Greenstone Mountain Provincial Park near Kamloops. Her boyfriend was found dead at the scene.”

I dropped my coffee mug. It shattered and I watched coffee splash up on Sandy’s jeans. But she didn’t even glance down, she was still staring at me. None of us moved to clean it up.

My hands went to my face. “Oh, God. Are you sure? Maybe—”

“He’s the main suspect,” Sandy said. “The shell casings found at the scene are consistent.”

“This is my fault.”

Billy said, “No, it’s not, Sara. He made the choice.” But Sandy didn’t say anything.

“What are we going to do now? What about the girl?”

He was quiet for a few seconds. “Right now we’re searching the surrounding area for the female victim’s body.”

“You think she’s dead?”

Neither of them answered.

“What’s her name?”

Billy said, “We haven’t released that to the media yet—”

“I’m not the
media
. Tell me her name.”

Billy looked at Sandy, who turned to me and said, “Danielle Sylvan. Her boyfriend was Alec Pantone.”

My mind filled with images of a young woman fleeing through the bushes, John chasing after her with a rifle in his hands. I wondered when I’d get her doll.

I stared down at the broken mug, the pool of coffee.

“What color’s her hair?”

They were both silent. I looked up. Dread passed over me.

“What
color
is her
hair
?”

Billy cleared his throat, but before he could say anything, Sandy told me.

“Auburn—long and wavy.”

The room spun. I gripped the back of the counter with my hands. Billy stood up and in one big step was at my side, clasping my shoulders.

“You all right, Sara?”

I shook my head.

“Do you want to get some air?”

“No.” I took a couple of breaths. “I’ll … I’ll be okay.”

Billy leaned against the counter beside me. His arms were crossed in front of his chest and he massaged his biceps through his black windbreaker over and over. From across the table coils of anger radiated off Sandy.

I turned to her. “You think it’s my fault.”

She said, “It’s no one’s fault. He’s a killer, we never know what’s going to set him off.”

“But he’s never killed this early before—never in May.”

She stared at me. Her eyes were bloodshot and the pupils dilated, turning the cool blue almost black. Her skin looked windburned.

I said, “You think because I didn’t answer his calls he went out and killed someone.”

“We don’t know what—”

“Just say it,
Sandy
—admit you think it’s my fault.”

She gazed at me steadily. “Yes, I think having his calls ignored triggered him to find a victim. No, I don’t think it was your fault.”

For a moment I felt victorious—I’d forced her to admit what she was really thinking—then the horror of the situation washed back over me.

I turned to Billy. “How old were they?”

“Alec was twenty-four and Danielle twenty-one.”
Twenty-one
. I thought of their parents getting the news and pressed the heels of my hands hard into my eyeballs.

Block it out. Block it out.

“What do we do now?”

Billy said, “We’re not getting a signal from his cell phone, but just in case, we’d like you to try to call him again.” He took my cell off its charger on the counter and handed it to me.

Before I started to dial I said, “How am I supposed to act?”

Billy said, “Good question. You should have a plan before you—”

Sandy said, “Just start off expressing how sorry you are, show lots of remorse, then gauge his reaction. Wait and see if he brings up anything, but don’t say you know about the woman. It won’t hit the news until tonight.”

I glanced at Billy for confirmation and he nodded, but his neck was flushed. He didn’t look at Sandy and I wondered if he was pissed she had interrupted him.

As I dialed John’s number Sandy’s hand curled into a fist on the table. Her nails were chewed to the quick. John’s phone was off.

I shook my head.

Sandy stood up. “We’re going to fly out to Kamloops this afternoon. Keep trying to reach him. We’ll call you if we learn anything further from the crime scene.”

I walked them to the door. “She could still be alive?”

Billy’s face was tense. “Of course, and we’ll try our best to find her.” But I saw it in their eyes—they were going to Kamloops to find a body.

*   *   *

That night I tossed and turned for hours, thinking about everything Sandy had said. My guilt segued into anger when I thought more about the police—why hadn’t they staked out all the parks? They knew he was in the area. But when I got out of bed and Googled, I learned the park was one hundred and twenty-four hectares. How were they ever going to find her? How were they going to find
him
?

I called John several times, but his phone was never on. I thought of what I’d say if he did answer.
Why did you do it? Did she die quickly?
It was the second question that haunted me the most. I could taste Danielle’s fear. It gnawed at my skin, burrowed into my muscles, screamed in my head:
You did this!

Evan called that night after Ally was in bed and I cried through the entire phone call. I tried my best not to sound blaming, but it leaked out when I said, “You’d been giving me a hard time about checking my phone all the time, so I was trying to just relax and have fun like you said, and—”

“I didn’t know he’d—”

“I
told
you, but you kept saying I was worrying too much and now two people are dead.”

“Sara, I was just trying to help you—you’re my priority, not him. And it’s awful what he did, but it’s not your fault. You do see that, right?”

“If I’d answered the phone, they’d still be alive.”

“And if you went back in time and killed Hitler, millions of—”

“That’s not the same thing. I have no control over what happened then, but I could’ve stopped this.”

“All of this is outside of your control, but you’re going to blame yourself no matter what.”

“I wish you could understand why I’m so upset.”

“I do—it’s horrible what happened, and you’re taking it even harder because you get so involved in everything. But it stresses
me
out when you get yourself all worked up. You have to try to step back a little.”

“It’s not that simple, Evan. I can’t just close my eyes to everything like you.” I flinched at my harsh tone. Then waited out the silence that followed. Finally Evan broke it.

“I’m not the bad guy here.”

I groaned. “I’m sorry. This is just so awful and I miss you.”

“I miss you too—I’m coming home this weekend, okay?”

“I thought you have a big group.”

“I’ll call Jason in. You need me right now.”

“God, Evan. I want to tell you to stay, but I really do need you.” I rubbed my nose on my sleeve. “I keep seeing her face, you know, seeing her having fun with her boyfriend. Then John’s there—with a gun, and she’s watching her boyfriend get shot, then she runs away, and…” I was crying again now, trying to get my breath.

“Baby…” Evan sounded helpless. “You’ve got to stop thinking about stuff like that,
please
.”

“I can’t help it. I think about what if it was
you,
then I just—”

“Mommy?” Ally was at the top of the stairs.

I cleared my throat and tried to keep my voice pleasant.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“I’ll be up in a minute.”

Evan and I said our good-byes, then I washed my face in cold water, hoping Ally wouldn’t notice my puffy eyes. As I cuddled in bed with her, Moose at our feet, I stroked her hair and gently tickled her back. Then I thought of another mother out there who just found out her daughter was missing. I wondered what she did to soothe her to sleep when she was little. I wondered what this woman would think if she knew her daughter was gone because my cell was on vibrate.

*   *   *

When Ally drifted off, I eased out of her bed. Moose’s head popped up, but I motioned for him to stay and he dropped it back onto Ally’s Barbie quilt. In my office I pulled up Google and typed in “Danielle Sylvan.” I hoped there wouldn’t be anything, but I found an article in the paper where she’d volunteered for a literacy program. The photo of her face beaming as she held out an armful of books to some children just about killed me. The deep red of her hair was vibrant against her pale skin. I imagined that skin even paler in death, and my stomach flipped. I sent the article to Billy, knowing he had a BlackBerry and would get it instantly. My message said,
Did you find her?
I waited and waited—hitting send/receive every second. Finally, ten minutes later, he answered:
Not yet.

I turned off the computer and climbed into bed, cell on the night table. I tossed and turned for hours.

It’s your fault, all your fault. Your fault.

*   *   *

The next morning Ally was cranky: “I don’t want to wear my raincoat.” “I want to wear the blue socks, no, the yellow ones.” “When will Evan be home?” “Why can’t Moose come?” “I’m tired of cereal.” Finally I got her dressed and we were on our way. We were a mile from her school when my cell rang in my purse. Ally, who was singing in her seat and moving her head back in forth in time with the windshield wipers, began to sing louder. I reached into the console and grabbed my cell. As soon as I saw John’s number, I panicked.

“Ally Cat, this is an important client, so you have to be quiet, okay?”

She kept singing.

I raised my voice as the phone rang again. “Ally, that’s
enough
.”

She looked at me. “You’re not supposed to answer the phone while you’re driving, Mommy—it’s not safe.”

“You’re right, that’s why Mommy’s pulling over.” I quickly turned onto the soft shoulder of the road and stopped the Cherokee. “He really needs my help, so you have to be super quiet, okay?” Rain thundered down on us as Ally stared out the window, drawing shapes in the condensation. She was pissed at me, but at least she was quiet.

I answered the phone in a rush. “Hello?”

“Sara.” His voice was low and raspy. Like he’d been yelling.

I said, “I’m really sorry about what happened. I made a mistake, but it won’t happen again, okay? I promise.”

I held my breath and braced for a barrage, but he was silent.

So Ally couldn’t hear, I turned to the window and lowered my voice. “John, there was something about a missing woman on the news last night?”

He was still silent. In the background I could hear traffic, but there was another sound—a persistent thump. I strained my ears. Beside me Ally’s legs started to kick. Still waiting for John to answer, I flipped open the glove box and found a notepad and a pen. As I handed it to Ally, I motioned for her to draw me a picture. She ignored the pad and crossed her arms over her chest. I gave a warning look, and she stared out the window.

I said, “Are you still there?” The thump in the background was louder.

“You shouldn’t have ignored me. I needed you.”

“I’m sorry. But I’m here now. Can you tell me where she is?”

His voice was flat. “She’s with me.”

Hope surged—until I realized he didn’t say she was alive.

“Is she okay?”

Beside me Ally kicked at the dashboard. I grabbed her foot and gave another warning look. She pulled her foot out of my hand and started bouncing up and down in her seat. I clamped my hand down on the phone’s speaker. “Ally, stop it this minute or—or you’re not going to Meghan’s sleepover on Sunday.” Ally gave a shocked gasp and sat back in her seat.

On the phone John said, “I don’t know what to do.”

I had to say something fast.
Think, Sara, think. He depersonalizes them. He doesn’t want to think of them as people. Make her real.

“The news said her name is Danielle. She has people who really care about her, John. Her parents, they just want her home, and—”