Take Another Look (13 page)

Norwood explained that the girl's body had been discovered floating near the boat rental cabana. Some kids on the dock had noticed her first, alerting the lifeguard. The vice principal had pulled her out of the water and started trying to resuscitate her. “They don't know how long she was floating there.” Norwood didn't go on, but she didn't need to. Jane understood the inherent concerns: If they did manage to revive the drowning victim, the girl might have already suffered brain damage from oxygen deprivation.

“What a nightmare.” Jane listened as the radio chirped again.

“Did you hear that? They've got her breathing.”

“That's . . . that's wonderful.” Jane pressed a hand to her chest, wishing she could slow her racing heart.

Officer Norwood stepped away as a string of messages came through. The officer responded, then turned to Jane.

“They're bringing her up in the ambulance. I need to notify the parents so that they can meet her at the hospital. Maybe you can help me. Is there a master list of students' names with emergency contact info?”

“Dr. Gallaway has it. She's the principal. I'll help you find her.” The dark gloom that had been pressing on Jane began to ease as they walked together toward the main gate. “Who is the girl?”

“They say she's a senior. Her name is Olivia?”

Suddenly Jane stopped walking. She knew of only one senior girl named Olivia.

“Olivia Ferguson,” Jane said, and the cop nodded.

“Do you know her?” Norwood asked.

Jane could only nod.

Chapter 14

“H
ey, Mom.” Harper's pert smile made Jane's knees begin to melt from under her.

“Harper! I've been looking for you.” Jane pulled the girl into her arms and closed her eyes, grateful for the flowery smell of shampoo, the hard bones and smooth skin of her daughter's body. “I was so worried. It's awful.” Jane opened her eyes as the teachers she had been talking with backed away. Except for the police and administrators down by the waterfront, the park had cleared out.

“Mom, I'm okay.” Harper patted Jane's back, then quickly extracted herself. “You worry way too much. And you promised to keep your distance during the picnic.”

“I did, but then this happened, and I was worried about you. Where were you, anyway?”

“Just kicking back with my friends.”

“You weren't with Emma and Sydney.”

“I have other friends, too, and . . . See? This is what I'm talking about. It's like you're spying on me.”

“I'm your mother, and I'm right to worry about you,” Jane said firmly. She wasn't going to apologize, but the tension of the day was not Harper's fault. “Anyway, I'm glad you're okay now.”

Soon after Olivia had been whisked away in the ambulance, Dr. Gallaway had made the decision to end the picnic. Students were asked to call their parents, walk home, or drive safely. Jane and Luke had stayed on to make sure all the kids found a way home. The principal had been right to end the party. Everyone felt a little wobbly and sick, concerned for Olivia and scared for themselves. Already the rumor was circulating that she had been attacked. Some speculated that she'd been pushed into the water; others said she must have been drunk or high and fallen in. Jane doubted that last theory, but the hospital would screen Olivia's blood for traces of drugs or alcohol.

“So anyway . . .” Harper wrapped a lock of hair around one finger, her voice stretching like sweet taffy. “I was wondering if I could go over to the Westview Apartments with some people.”

“What?” Jane blinked. The Westview Apartments had a reputation as a known drug-prone location. The police had found a meth lab in a bedroom there last year, and high school kids seemed to know that it was always possible to score weed on the premises. “Why would you go there?”

“Just to hang out. Teddy lives there, and he says there's a party room that we can use. It's for residents and their friends.”

Jane didn't like the sound of this. “Will Teddy's parents be in the party room?”

“His mom's at work, but his grandmother will be there.”

“Really? In the party room? So I can drop you off and say hello to her.”

“I can get a ride with one of the seniors.”

“No.”

“Mom!”

“You know the rule. I need to meet the parents, and some adult should be at home.”

“That's so unfair.” Harper's hands went to her hips. “Don't you think I'm a little too old for a babysitter?”

Jane pressed her cheek to one hand as her gaze fell on the activity down at the waterfront. Someone was stringing a yellow plastic strip around the tree trunks. Crime-scene tape, like on TV. Which indicated that the police were investigating the possibility that Olivia's fall into the lake had not been an accident. A near drowning. An assault. Jane couldn't believe this was happening in Mirror Lake.

“Mom? Are you just going to stand there looking all sad? I hate it when you don't answer me.”

Jane wanted this day to be over. She wanted a glass of wine. A warm bath. A romantic comedy on TV. A massage from Luke. But she was not going to let Harper slink over to some questionable apartment so that she could have the night off.

“Let's go home, honey.” Jane scanned the park for Luke, but she suspected he was up by the gate, hanging with students who needed a ride. The nearly empty swim park seemed deceptively welcoming now. Branches of the fir trees swayed in the subtle breeze, and the late afternoon sun cast diamonds of light on the flickering surface of the water. The lake beckoned, the dazzling voice of nature calling anyone who stopped to listen.

“Mom? What is wrong with you?”

Harper's angry voice snapped Jane out of her trance. She hadn't had a lapse like that for years. Dissociating, her therapist used to call it. Jane used to do it all the time when a mind slip was the only way to escape the intolerable Frank and his abuses. “I'm tired, Hoppy. Where's your bag?”

“Up by the snack shack. Mr. Tarkington made us leave them by the back door, even though there are spiders in the bushes there.”

“Okay. You need to get your bag and meet me by the front gate.”

“I need to tell my friends that I can't come over.”

Jane looked around suspiciously. “Where are these friends? Who are we talking about?”

“Teddy and Jesse.” Harper was already backing away. “They're waiting out front, by someone else's car.”

“Five minutes. And don't forget your bag.”

At the gate, Marcus was talking with some students, while Mary Ellen stood talking with her husband Ben.

“We're debating about going for an early dinner since we have the sitter until seven.” Mary Ellen shot her husband a hopeful look.

Ben's arms were crossed, his mouth set in a grim line. “Well, we have to eat. Just not feeling very festive.”

“She's going to be okay,” Mary Ellen said, her eyes glistening with tears. “Olivia's a strong girl. She'll pull through.”

Jane hoped that Mary Ellen was right.

“Luke left,” Mary Ellen reported. “He's taxiing some students home.”

“I'll catch up with him later,” Jane said, wishing Mary Ellen would be more discreet. Maybe Harper was right; maybe everyone already knew that Jane and Luke were an item. Still, Jane wasn't ready to make that final move.

“I wonder how long the police are going to be here?” Mary Ellen asked as the three of them looked toward the waterfront.

“As long as it takes to figure out what happened.” Ben's voice was cold in that factual way men had of dealing with crisis. He pulled his cell from one pocket. “I'm going to tell the sitter we're going for a bite.”

A sour expression puckered Harper's face as she trudged up to the gate. With a flicker of sympathy, Jane forced a smile. So many plans had been ruined.

“See you at school,” she told the teachers, pointing the way toward her car. A scowling Harper followed her, probably still stewing about the invitation to the “Drugview” Apartments. Jane popped the trunk and waited as Harper stowed her bag.

“Just saying,” Harper began, “when I picked up my bag it seemed way too light. I looked inside and guess what? Blue Lightning is gone. I think someone stole it.”

“What?” It was the killing stab of a brutal day. Jane reached for the bag and began to rifle through it, tossing out warm juice boxes and a pack of smashed peanut butter crackers. “I thought Mr. Tarkington was watching the bags for you girls.”

Harper opened the passenger door. “I thought so, too.” She slipped into the seat and closed the door.

“Harper!” Jane leaned into the driver's side to face her. “Let's go, missy. We need to find that bat.”

“I looked. It wasn't anywhere around. Let's just go home. I'll check the lost and found at school on Monday.”

“I seriously doubt that it's going to turn up there. Come on. This is not something you can slink away from. That bat cost a fortune, and you need it.”

That started the tears. “I already looked, Mom. Geez. What else do you want me to do?”

“Not lose your stuff in the first place.”

Sniffing back tears, Harper curled forward.

“I don't get any of this.” Jane slid into the seat and stared straight ahead. “It just doesn't make sense for someone to steal it. That bat is so distinctive; no other player in Mirror Lake can get away with using it. And if someone did take it, how did they walk out of the park with it? You can't exactly hide a softball bat under your shirt.”

“I don't know. . . .” A small sob broke Harper's voice.

“All right. I'll go look for it.”

Walking at a brisk pace, Jane checked the snack shack, where the gates were rolled down over the counters, but the door was still open. Robin Murphy knew nothing about the softball team stowing their bags out back. Jane checked around the back door, but found nothing. Then she jogged down to the waterfront, where the two top administrators and a few teachers waited. When she asked Gray Tarkington about the bat he was apologetic but distracted. “I didn't see anybody poking around behind the back door, if that's what you mean,” he said. “Can we talk about it Monday? I just can't wrap my brain around it right now.”

“Of course. I just wanted to check, but I know you've got a million things on your mind.” Jane thanked him and asked about the latest update on Olivia.

“She was conscious when she left here, but couldn't tell us her name.” He shrugged. “The paramedic said that happened sometimes with a near drowning. They had her on pure oxygen when they left. That's supposed to help.”

As Jane hurried back to the car, she wondered if it was possible that Olivia had been drinking or using drugs. Jane had discounted that theory, but how well did she really know the girl? If Olivia had fallen into the water, inebriated . . . well, that would put her on academic probation for a while. And off the softball team.

Wouldn't that be convenient. Jane frowned, feeling a flicker of guilt for her selfish fantasy. Just a flicker.

“Did you find it?” Harper looked up from her cell phone, apparently in the middle of a text.

“I'm afraid not, but I talked to Mr. Tarkington. He's going to keep an eye out for it. In the meantime . . .” Jane took out her cell and found the coach's number. “Carrie? Hey, it's Jane Ryan.” At first the coach thought she was calling about Olivia. “So you've heard already,” Jane said. She shared her limited information, and then told Carrie about the missing bat. “Is there a chance that Harper left it behind at practice?”

“Not today,” Carrie said. “I was the last one at the field, and the area was clean as a whistle. It's been an issue lately, getting the girls to pick up after themselves. Those damned water bottles drive me crazy.”

Jane hung up with Carrie and started the car. “Coach Carrie says that you didn't leave it at practice.”

“I knew that. Are we going home?” The high, chipmunk voice tugged at Jane's maternal instincts.

“Yes.”

They drove in silence, moving past the fat trunks of trees and the broad red or pink flowers of rhododendrons.

“Would it be okay if Emma and Sydney came over?”

Jane bristled, annoyed that Harper wanted to squeeze some fun out of the rest of the day. Maybe it wasn't fair of Jane to blame her. After all, the kids had been looking forward to the picnic, and what good would it do for them to sit around and worry about Olivia?

“I'm not up for a sleepover. But if they want to come over for dinner . . .” Jane considered the evening ahead. Maybe getting the girls together would be a welcome diversion for all of them, herself included. “I can make crispy cornflake chicken.” It was Harper's favorite.

“Really? So you're not mad at me?”

Jane had to swallow back a quick answer. “I'm not blaming you for how today went.” Well, maybe the bat, she amended in her mind. But it wasn't worth bringing her daughter to tears again.

 

Emma and Sydney arrived with munchies and a few films on DVD. Emma set up the chips and salsa while the girls debated about which movie to watch first. They decided on a romantic comedy, which Jane was happy to watch as she finished preparing dinner at the kitchen island.

The acoustics of the room bounced all sound back to the kitchen. That included the TV audio, as well as the girls' voices. As Jane slathered honey on chicken drumsticks, she monitored the conversation.

“Some kids say she had it coming,” Sydney said.

“That's not nice,” Emma objected.

“I'm just repeating what I heard.”

“Who said that?” asked Harper. When Sydney named a few names, the girls agreed that they were mean girls. “But Olivia could be pretty mean herself,” Harper added.

“You're not supposed to speak ill of the dead,” Emma said in a soft voice that gave Jane goose bumps.

“She's not dead,” Harper said.

“I know, but it might happen.”

The girls were silent for a while, and Jane began to tune in to the dialogue of the movie as she dipped the chicken pieces into smashed cornflakes.

With the chicken in the oven, Jane spread frozen tater tots onto a baking sheet.

“Isn't it kind of funny that she can't swim?” Harper said out of the blue. “I mean, she lives on the lake, plus she has an infinity pool. She could go swimming anytime, but she can't swim. That's ironic, right?”

“My mom says Olivia has a phobia. A fear of water. When she was little, her mom took her for swimming lessons, but she wouldn't get in the pool.”

“Is that aquaphobia?” Emma asked.

“I don't know,” Sydney said. “Look it up.”

Emma found a description on her phone. “Aquaphobia. Some call it hydrophobia, but that's also the name for rabies.”

“What? Let me see.”

“Oh, it's quite debilitating.” Emma read the profile, ending with the information that some aquaphobics avoided bathing or showering.