The Darkest Corners (20 page)

“Do you know where Danny lives now?” I ask Anne Marie.

“Oh, God no,” she says. “Last I heard he was working at a car dealership somewhere.”

Anne Marie hands me a cup of lemonade. Before I can raise it to my lips, a gnat flies in. I set the cup down as she pours one for Callie, who is insisting she's not thirsty.

“Honestly, I thought that Joslin would come back, eventually,” Anne Marie prattles on. “I mean, she talked about getting an apartment somewhere, and I'd be like, ‘Jos, do you have any idea how much it costs to live on your own?' ”

So my sister
did
tell someone she planned on leaving. I pick up the lemonade to distract my hands, then remember the gnat floating in it.

“I can't believe she'd just
leave
you like that.” Anne Marie covers my hand with hers, but her eyes are still unfocused. “You were just a child.”

So was Joslin, according to the law. “Yeah. It was rough.”

Anne Marie shakes her head. “And after everything you two had been through, with the trial.”

Callie shifts in her chair. “I actually wanted to talk a bit about Lori. I don't know how well you remember her—”

“Of course I remember her,” Anne Marie says. “Lori was the absolute sweetest.”

I don't miss the way her eyes flick toward me, almost like an accusation.
Lori was the sweetest. Joslin was not.
It makes me wonder if Anne Marie knows something about my sister that she's not saying.

“We're just…trying to make sense of what happened that summer,” Callie says vaguely.

Anne Marie's eyes widen. “Oh, you poor things. You're worried about him getting out, aren't you?”

She leans over and covers both our hands with hers, as if we were eight, not eighteen. “He will never,
ever
be let out. He'll never be able to hurt anyone again.”

Callie offers Anne Marie a wan smile. “Oh, we know. Lori was just…I still miss her a lot. It's nice hearing someone other than my family talk about her.”

As it turns out, hearing herself talk is Anne Marie's favorite thing. And Lori has clearly achieved saintlike status in her mind.

“She was older than us, but she acted like an awesome kid, you know?” Anne Marie smiles to herself. “This new Disney-Pixar movie came out, and she wanted to see it at midnight, and Jos and I were too embarrassed. So Lori was like, ‘Screw you guys!' and went on her own.”

Callie hangs on Anne Marie's every word, a hungry look on her face. I realize she wasn't lying when she said she likes hearing people talk about Lori. I know how it feels when you're missing someone—no story anyone can tell is enough. Even if someone's willing to talk about them forever, it wouldn't be enough.

Callie clears her throat. “Did Lori and Joslin ever fight?”

Anne Marie frowns. “I can't picture Lori fighting with anyone.”

“Not even an argument?” I ask.

Anne Marie is quiet for a beat. “Well— I mean, I told this to the police when they asked if Lori seemed upset about anything before she died—”

“What did you tell them?” Callie sits up. Under the table, I slam my leg into hers, as if to say,
Shut the hell up.

“Lori came to see Jos on her lunch break,” Anne Marie says. “They were out back, and I heard them a bit when I went to throw out the garbage.”

Anne Marie was eavesdropping on them. I'd bet my life on it.

“I didn't know what they were talking about, but Lori was upset, and Jos wouldn't listen to her,” she says. “I think it had something to do with a boy.”

“Danny?” I ask.

Anne Marie shakes her head.

“What about Mike, or Tommy?”

“No, I'm pretty sure it was Steven,” Anne Marie says.

I look at Callie, who shrugs.

“Who's Steven?” I ask.

“I have no idea,” Anne Marie says. “Jos and I didn't go to school with anyone named Steven, so I assumed it was someone Lori knew from home.”

It definitely wasn't Lori's boyfriend. His name was Chip. I remember, because when Lori told Joslin about him, Jos laughed so hard, I thought her spleen would explode—even though Lori insisted
Chip
was short for
Christopher
and he kind of looked like Matt Damon circa
Good Will Hunting.

“And you're sure they were arguing?” Callie asks.

“I don't know. Maybe it was more like…disagreeing?” Anne Marie says. “They seemed okay the next day when they came in together so Jos could pick up her paycheck.”

The screen door off the kitchen slams, and the younger boy—the one with
Cars
Pull-Ups peeking over the waist of his Baby Gap shorts, the one who stared at me and Callie earlier—toddles out. He climbs into Anne Marie's lap and jibbers something into her ear.

“What's wrong, pumpkin?” she asks him. The kid bursts into tears.

Callie tries to ask Anne Marie something, but her voice is drowned out by the baby's wails.

“I'm so sorry,” Anne Marie shouts. “Someone needs a nap.”

“It's okay; we should get going anyway,” Callie yells back.

Anne Marie walk us out the backyard gate and down the brick walkway to the curb where we're parked. The boy is curled around her neck like a spider monkey, shrieking into her ear. The goodbye is short, frazzled.

As we pull away from the curb, I can't take my eyes off Anne Marie Hahn and her son. I watch her retreat back into her world of
live, laugh, love, family
and ignore the tugging in my chest.

“Are you sure Steven isn't one of the Faber brothers?” Callie asks when we reach the main road.

I shrug. “Joe's ex-wife only said there was Tommy and Mike.”

“Maybe Steven was someone Lori knew from back home,” Callie murmurs.

“Then why would Lori and Jos be arguing about him?” I ask.

“We don't even know that they were arguing,” Callie says. “How is Anne Marie supposed to know for sure after ten years?”

“You didn't hear Lori on the phone, Callie.” I'm feeling especially crabby after that visit with Anne Marie Hahn for some reason. “Lori was pissed.”

Callie grips the steering wheel. “All I'm saying is that it's been so long. I can't remember what I was doing on this day a week ago, and you're so sure Lori was fighting with Jos that night.”

I turn my head and look out the window. “Some things, you just don't forget.”
Even though I wish I could.

When we get back to the house, Maggie is watering the hydrangea bushes that circle the porch. She lowers the hose when she sees us. “Where'd you two go?”

“Luigi's,” Callie says, plucking out the name of the Italian ice place up the road from the pool. The Greenwoods used to take Callie and me there all the time; one time was after Callie's twirling competition. She freaked out and refused to get out of the car because people would see her in full costume and makeup.

“We'd have brought you something, but it would have melted,” Callie adds for effect before disappearing into the house.

I wind up helping Maggie water the rest of the plants so she can finish weeding before the three p.m. sun hits. When we're done, she starts prepping dinner in the kitchen. I sneak into the family room, where I saw the latest version of the yellow pages stacked next to the user manuals for the computer.

I figure no one will miss the phone book for a few hours. I abscond upstairs with it, hoping Maggie won't be up anytime soon to ask if I've made any plans to reschedule my flight.

The guest room is stifling, so I hate to close the door. At dinner last night, Rick talked about moving the AC unit from the family room into the guest room, so I wouldn't have to sleep with the window open every night. I insisted that he not go through the trouble and said I was fine, even though it feels like I'm cocooned in the folds of Satan's ball sack every night. I crank the fan to high and sit in front of it, the phone book opened in my lap to car dealerships.

There are three pages of numbers for dealerships in Fayette County alone. The county is huge, covering about thirty different townships. If Danny Densing were smart, he would have gotten out of the county completely.

But Danny was not smart when I knew him, and in my experience, dumb people get dumber as they get older. If he's managed to avoid charges for the Arnold explosion for this long, he probably thinks he's home free. I wouldn't be surprised if he's still in the county.

I call the first dealership, Brownsville Chevrolet, and am told that no one named Dan or Danny works there. When someone finally picks up at the fifth place on the list, I ask for Danny. Someone mumbles “Hold on” and transfers me. My stomach folds into itself.

The line clicks. “This is Dani,” a woman says.

I hang up.

I lie on my back, hoping the purr of the fan will distract me from feeling like a black Lab left in the backyard all day. The skin on my nose is taut and burned; no doubt, my freckles have doubled. It's a good thing I'm not vain.

I pick up where I left off on the list of car dealerships. After almost two hours, I'm running out of numbers. The smell of sautéed onions has made its way upstairs. At some point, I heard Callie take a shower across the hall. A man picks up the phone.

“Bob speaking.”

“I'm looking for someone named Danny.”

“Got two of 'em here.”

The floor seems to fall out from beneath me. I look down at the phone book, to where I'm holding my place with a finger. Smith's Nissan.

“ 'Lo?” Bob asks.

“Densing,” I say. “Is one of them Danny Densing?”

A click. The bastard hung up on me. I hold my phone away from me, staring at the screen in disbelief, and notice that the call is still running. I put the phone back to my ear.

Ringing. He transferred me.

The phone rings and rings until I get an answering machine.

“Hey, this is Dan. I've had to step out, but if you leave me a message and your number, I'll get back to you as soon as I can.”

The tone beeps. The blood in my body stops flowing, and I suddenly feel chilled to the bone.

I have to say something before the machine cuts me off. I recite my phone number and tell Danny that I need to speak with him about buying an Altima. I say that my name is Kelly.

My hands are still shaking long after I hang up. I thought it was impossible to be sure of anything having to do with this place anymore, but I know without a shadow of a doubt that the voice on the answering machine is Danny Densing's.

Maggie watches me a lot during dinner—probably because I have one hand in my pocket the whole time, on my phone, in case it rings. Rick is covering someone's shift, so it's just the three of us. When Callie's done eating, she announces that she's going to Sabrina's.

“You barely ate anything.” Maggie frowns, but Callie is already up and grabbing her keys from the counter. Her hair is straightened, and her collarbone shimmers from a fresh coat of body cream.

She's not going to Sabrina's. She's going to Ryan's, no doubt. I picture them under his sheets. I wonder what it's like, letting someone in like that. Or if Callie uses hooking up to keep Ryan where she wants him.

Then I feel like a creep, and I stop.

“I'll be back in a couple of hours,” Callie says. And, almost as an afterthought, she kisses Maggie on the cheek.

Maggie lifts a hand to her face, stunned.

“No more than that!” she calls after Callie, who's at the front door. “We have to be out of here by six-thirty a.m. at the latest.”

The screen door slams, and Maggie turns to me. “The girls Callie coached this year have their USTA auditions in Pittsburgh tomorrow. You're more than welcome to come.”

“United States…Twirling Association?” I offer.

Maggie smiles. Nods. “I know it doesn't sound that exciting, and it'll be a whole-day thing, but we can grab lunch in the city, explore a bit.”

I push the corn kernels and lima beans around on my plate while this sinks in. The Greenwoods will be gone all day.

“I actually…” I set my fork down. “I have plans tomorrow. With an old friend.”

Maggie cocks her head. “Who?”

“Decker Lucas?” I want to shrink in my seat. Not only am I lying to her, because Decker and I don't have plans—not yet, at least—but she probably thinks my embarrassment means we're going on a date.

“Oh,” Maggie says, blinking with surprise. “Decker's a nice boy.”

Maybe I'm imagining it, but her smile seems to flicker a bit as we turn our attention back to our plates. Almost like she doesn't believe me.

When I get back up to my room, I check my phone for any missed calls or voice mails, even though there's no way I wouldn't have felt it vibrate. I change into pajamas and settle into bed, my father's drawing of the cabin in Bear Creek balanced on my chest.

If Danny calls back—if he'll even talk to me once he realizes I'm not Altima-shopping Kelly—what are the chances he's been in touch with Jos in the past ten years?

My gut tells me that Jos found our mother; she didn't go to Deer Run looking for her. Possibly because Jos knew she wasn't there.

Joslin is older than me—old enough to remember my father's drawings of the cabin in Bear Creek. Maybe she'd even been there, before I was born.

The idea of driving two and a half hours to Bear Creek on a hunch that my mom may be there is nuts. Callie would tell me it's a complete waste of time.

I find Decker's number in my phone, thankful that I didn't delete it. I send him a text.

What are you doing tomorrow? This is Tessa.

A minute later, he responds.
NOTHING. WHY?

I gnaw the inside of my cheek. Then:
Have you ever been to Bear Creek/do you want to go?

NO/HELL YES!!!

I can't help the smile blooming on my face. I may have found someone as crazy as I am.