That Night (35 page)

“I think her mom still lives at the same place.” She’d had a party there once when we were in high school, before she started hanging out with Shauna.

“Be careful,” he said. “These girls are scared, they’re not going down without a fight.”

“Neither am I. They’ve fucked with us long enough.”

He smiled, hearing the old tough-Toni talk, but there was also recognition in his eyes. He knew this time I meant it. We held gazes for a little while longer, the energy in the truck changing as I became more physically aware of his presence. His hands on the wheel, his arms hard, his jeans tight on his thighs, the dim light making hollows and shadows on his face, his chin still unshaven. I wanted to feel it again, scraping against mine. I remembered how we used to make out for hours as teens, our hands greedy for each other, then later how sometimes we’d have sex in his truck, my hands and feet pushing against the dash or the window, anything to get him closer, deeper. My face flushed warm, and I looked away. I could feel him studying my profile. I glanced back at him.

“I haven’t been with anyone since you,” he said.

I caught my breath, holding his words close to me for a moment, savoring what they meant, then whispered, “Me neither.”

There was something else in his face now, relief, as though maybe he hadn’t been sure of my feelings. He hesitated for a second, then shifted his weight and leaned forward, bringing his face close, at an angle. There was a questioning look in his eyes. I could have pulled away, could have gotten out of the truck, but my body leaned toward his. Our mouths touched, soft at first, testing, like we were trying to remember what we liked, then we grew more confident and the kiss deepened. I gave over to it this time, and Ryan cupped the back of my head, pressed his body closer. I lifted my arm, wrapped it around his back, kneading the hard muscles along his shoulder blade. He groaned into my mouth, “Toni.” And I felt an answering ache in my body, a desire to be even closer, skin against skin.

His hand caressed my lower back, the cool summer air making me shiver as he lifted my shirt slightly, his hand now coming around to the side of my ribs, stroking up toward my breast, his thumb grazing the underside. My body broke out in goose bumps.

I shifted my weight, pushed him back against the seat, and straddled him, grinding my hips forward, pressing against him. He moaned again into my mouth, his warm hands around my waist. Then he slid them up and covered my breasts. I caught my breath, grabbed the back of his hair, tilting his head back, getting rough with my kissing, feeling angry all of a sudden, a violent urge in my body. He reached up and grabbed some of my hair, pulling my head to the side, kissing my neck and my ear, whispering, “God, I’ve missed you.”

I covered his mouth again with mine, shushing the sentiments, the affection, but the words echoed, and I thought about all the years we’d been apart, and then there were tears all of a sudden because I remembered the last time we’d been together, in the woods, while Nicole was being murdered. I couldn’t stop the tears now and had to pull away, covering my face with my hands.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Ryan tugged my hands away, but I couldn’t look at him.

“I was thinking about the last time…” I couldn’t get the rest of the words out.

He gently cupped the back of my head and pushed my face toward his shoulder. I gave in to the sobs, in to the comfort of leaning against another body, solid and real. No one had held me for seventeen years. One of his hands was resting on the back of my neck, the other arm wrapped around my back, holding me close, safe and secure. Finally my sobs eased, and now embarrassment settled in. I lifted myself off his lap, and his arms let go, but slowly, reluctantly. I sat on the passenger side and wiped my face on my sleeves. We were both quiet for a moment, staring out at the dark night.

“I don’t want it to be like this,” he said, “in a truck like we’re still teenagers hiding out from our parents.”

I turned to face him, not sure what he was getting at.

He said, “When this is over, I want to take you out for real, on a date.”

“I don’t know, Ryan, so much has happened. Maybe we can’t get past it.”

“We can, and we will.”

I remembered how much hope he’d had when we first went to prison, how none of those hopes had ever come true for us. I wondered if anything would be different this time. And just like back then, I was scared to let myself go there in my mind. I needed to focus on the moment.

I looked out the window again, turning away from him, trying to shut myself down. “I should get back.”

He was silent for a few beats, and I thought he might say something else, but then he flashed up the truck. Neither of us said a word until we got back to the woods behind my cabin. I didn’t meet his eyes until I climbed out of the truck.

“We’re not finished,” he said. “If we are, we’ll find out on our own, but I don’t want us to be finished because of
them.
” His voice turned hard and angry. “They aren’t going to take anything from me again.”

I watched him drive away, hating the way his voice had just sounded. It made me think of the look on his face when he was gripping that drug dealer’s throat. Like he wanted to keep squeezing.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

C
AMPBELL
R
IVER

J
ULY
2013

The next day I bought a disposable phone and drove by Kim’s old house, then parked on the side of the road while I tried to figure out if her mom still owned the place. I noticed that the front yard was overgrown, the grass and weeds more than a foot high. Nothing looked like it had been watered or pruned for years. The house was also run-down, the siding stained and the windows filthy. But I could see a statue of Jesus on the sill and remembered that Kim’s mom was a religious fanatic. She’d also been tidy, from what I remembered, so she must’ve been sick for some time. There was a car in the driveway, probably hers. I ducked low when I saw someone come out the door. I peeked through my steering wheel.

Kim still had long hair and a dancer’s body, lithe and trim in her capris and fitted tank top that showed the sinewy muscles in her shoulders as she reached down for the newspaper that was on the doorstep. I thought about her other life, with her dance studio, her partner. Did they have children? Were they married? I remembered Kim at the trial, the empty look in her eyes. Was it guilt?

After she went inside, I considered going up to the door, but decided it would be better to wait until there were no possible witnesses. Her mom probably went to bed early, and if she was on pain meds she’d be a heavy sleeper.

Around nine-thirty I made my way back to Kim’s, keeping an eye on the road behind me. I didn’t see any cops, but they could be using ghost cars. I made lots of turns and stopped at a few stores, gathering receipts—I’d been doing that lately, in case they tried to pin anything on me again.

When I got to Kim’s I parked down the road, taking another look around before walking down her driveway and under the carport. From inside I could hear faint sounds from a TV. I peeked through the side window. Kim was curled up on the couch, with a book opened in her lap and a healthy glass of wine in front of her. She rubbed her forehead, yawned. There was no sign of her mother.

I went to the door and knocked softly. Silence, then unsteady, cautious steps toward the door.

A tentative whisper. “Who’s there?”

She didn’t sound surprised. Maybe she’d had other late-night visitors.

“An old friend. I have some information you might be interested in, something about Shauna.”

I thought for sure she’d ask for my name, but she opened the door behind the screen. Her eyes widened when she saw it was me. Her expression of horror would’ve been humorous if I’d been in a laughing mood. She looked like she didn’t know whether to run or slam the door. She said, “I can call the police.”

“And tell them what? I haven’t done anything.”

“You’re trespassing—and you’re not supposed to be talking to me. It’s harassment.”

“So tell me you want me to leave. But I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

She paused as she thought it over. Then she said, “My mom’s sleeping,” and glanced over her shoulder.

“We can meet in your backyard.” Now she looked up and down the street. I added, “No one followed me. I made sure.”

“I’ll grab a sweater and meet you at the bottom of the garden.”

I let myself into her backyard, careful not to let the garden gate squeak. Inside, I could see Kim moving slowly through the house. She didn’t reach for the phone. If she was genuinely afraid of me, a convicted killer, she’d have called the police. But she felt safe—probably because she knew I hadn’t killed my sister. She also didn’t call Shauna or anyone else, which meant she wanted to hear what I had to say.

She came out a side door, walking down the edge of the garden and keeping to the shadows. When she reached me she studied my arms, her eyes big as she stared at my tattoos.

She took a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and held them out.

“No, thanks,” I said. When had she started smoking?

She lit up, her fingers shaking slightly, her face lit with a ghostly glow for a moment. “I can’t smoke in the house, my mom’s on oxygen.”

“I heard you were back to help her.”

She nodded, took a deep drag on her cigarette, and held the smoke down a long time before she exhaled.

“Your mom’s been sick for a while. Why are you back now?” She turned to look at me, hostility in her eyes.

“You said you had information.”

“And you want to hear it, because you know Shauna’s a problem.”

“I don’t have any problems with Shauna, but when someone shows up at my door saying they know something about a good friend of mine, I want to know what’s going on.”

“I heard you guys haven’t been in touch for years.”

“People lose touch, doesn’t mean they stop being friends.” She took a drag, sucked hard on the cigarette, and blew the smoke out in a rush. “What’s this all about? If you don’t explain why you’re here, I’m going back inside.”

“Shauna’s getting rid of you next.”

Her body jerked back, her face flooding with fear as her mouth opened wide. I waited for her to speak.

“What … what are you talking about?”

“Shauna killed Cathy.”

“This is ridiculous. I’m leaving.” But she didn’t make a move.

“You know it’s true. Whether she’s admitted it or not, she did it.”

Kim’s eyes narrowed, smoke drifting around us. “From what I heard, the cops suspect you and Ryan. They just didn’t have enough to charge you.”

“Lots of people like to say we did things we didn’t.” I changed the confrontational tone of my voice, tried to soften my words. “I don’t know why you lied at the trial, Kim, but I’ve spent most of my life in prison—for a crime you
know
I didn’t commit. How have you been able to live with yourself?”

She was silent, her face frozen, but I could sense that every word had hit her like a blow. And I had more for her.

“I don’t know what happened the night Nicole was murdered—but you do. And so did Cathy. She was talking to people, the story was coming out, and now she’s dead. If you thought I killed her, you wouldn’t be standing here.”

“You don’t know it was Shauna.”

“But
you
know, and she’s going to make sure anyone who knows what happened to Nicole can’t talk. Maybe your mom’s oxygen tank blows up, or maybe you have a car accident. There are a lot of ways someone can disappear.”

“Shauna wouldn’t kill Cathy or me.” She caught herself and added, “She wouldn’t kill anyone.”

“You can keep telling yourself that, but you know what she’s capable of doing. The only thing that’s going to save you is if you go to the police first.”

The reality of my words was sinking in, her face pale in the dim light, the cigarette in her hand burned down to the filter. She was either going to accept the truth and start considering her options, or run away from it.

“Get off my property.” She pointed a shaking hand toward the driveway. I had my answer.

“You’re a fool if you think you can trust Shauna,” I said. “Nicole was your friend—and look what happened to her.”

Her face almost buckled for a moment, then she collected herself.

“Nicole got me kicked out of my house. And if you don’t get out of here in five seconds, I’m calling the police.”

I turned and walked away. When I got in my truck I drove by her place fast, so she could see me leaving, but then I circled back and parked on a side street where I could watch her house. I waited, thinking about the conversation. Her guilt was obvious. I also thought about her saying that Nicole had gotten her kicked out. What was she talking about?

An hour later she left the house, glancing around before she climbed into her mother’s car. I followed at a distance.

I tailed her to a subdivision and noticed her car slowing down, her brake lights flashing like she was going to stop soon. I didn’t want to get too close, so I parked on the side of the road and hoofed it up the hill. I spotted her car in front of a big house with elaborate landscaping that had to cost a fortune. It also looked like there was a pool in the backyard and that the property overlooked the ocean. It had to be Shauna’s place. Then I realized Kim was still sitting in her car—at the last second I caught the glow of her face, lit by a cell phone. I ducked behind some bushes, close enough to see the car. She was texting someone. A moment later, Shauna came out of the house and got into the passenger seat. Kim rolled down the window, lit another cigarette.

They talked for a while. I couldn’t see much, just Kim’s profile, puffs of smoke. After about ten minutes Shauna got out of the car and leaned through the window, said something. She walked away, but Kim stayed in her car for a couple more minutes, blowing smoke out the window as she stared back at the house. Finally she drove off.

I got back in my truck. Partway down the road, I recognized a girl standing in the shadows on the shoulder. Ashley. How long had she been watching? When she saw me slowing down, she tried to turn her face away. I stopped beside her and rolled down the window.