Try Not to Breathe, page 10
“That’s true. Parents and kids, you know.”
“But, really, maybe I should just talk to Jane.”
Avery held the phone against her chest, muffling it, and went to the entryway to the living room. Jane remained next to Russ, her hand rubbing his back. He muttered to her, words Avery couldn’t hear.
Alisha pointed at the phone and whispered. “Who is it?”
“Jane’s cousin Libby.”
Alisha’s nose wrinkled. “Gold Dust Woman.”
Avery went back into the kitchen. “You know, Libby, this isn’t the best time. She’s helping my dad right now. She’s going to have to call you back.”
“Okay.” Disappointment. “Can she do that soon?”
“Do you want to talk to her about Anna? Is that it?”
“I just want to talk to her.”
“Libby, if you think there’s something going on with Anna, you can tell me. It might be important.”
A long pause drew out. “Avery, to be honest, I need to talk to Jane. I mean, I might share this with Alisha, but I just don’t . . . I mean, you just aren’t, well, you know . . . I don’t know how much you care about your family.”
Avery held the phone out like it was a ticking bomb. She stabbed the end-call button with her index finger as hard as she could.
22
Avery went back into the living room.
“Who was on the phone?” her dad asked.
“Libby.”
“Who?”
“Libby. Jane’s cousin.”
Avery might have imagined it, but some of the red drained from Dad’s face. “What is she calling for?” He stared at Jane. “Do you know?”
Jane didn’t answer.
“She wants you to call her back, Jane,” Avery said. “And maybe you should.”
“Why do you say that?” Alisha asked.
“She was asking about Anna. Kind of like she knew something, but she refused to tell me. She acted like I was a piece of dog shit.”
“Oh, honey, Libby wouldn’t think that about you. She’s very understanding.”
“Well, I kind of hung up on her.”
“Oh, my . . .” Jane clutched her robe again.
Dad laughed. “Good. She’s a busybody. She can’t be calling about anything good. Just pretend she didn’t call. That’s what I try to do when she sticks her nose in things.”
“Did you say she might know something about Anna?” Alisha asked.
“She was asking about her.”
Jane’s voice rose louder than it had all day. “Libby always cared a great deal about Anna. They were always close. When I had— Well, before Anna was born, she came and stayed with us. She was very helpful. You know, Libby is like a sister to me. She and Anna bonded when Anna was very little. Do you remember how sickly Anna was? People thought that because she was a bigger baby she was healthy, but that’s not always true. I told you girls that back then.”
“Well,” Alisha said, “we heard about it. We were in Florida for some of that. Remember?”
“With Margaret,” Dad said, “sowing her wild oats.”
Avery felt trapped. The walls of the living room—dingy and faded—seemed to be closing in on her. Every time she went to the house, it felt smaller. Every time, her dad and Jane appeared to have shrunk. If she went back enough times, they’d eventually just disappear, along with the furniture.
She worried she might disappear along with them if she stayed.
Would it ever be possible to be completely disentangled from them?
No, it wouldn’t. Family meant blood, DNA, shared history. A gnarled and tangled vine.
One with sharp thorns on it.
“Do you have this Eric kid’s number?” Avery asked.
“I think I do,” Jane said. “If I can find my book.”
“What about her other friends in Louisville?” Avery asked.
“There’s Rachel,” Alisha said. “You remember her, right?”
“Oh, yeah. Sure. She’s the one who never stops talking.”
“I just remember Anna’s graduation party,” Alisha said. “Rachel has the wild red hair. I think she spiked the punch.”
“I never trusted her,” her dad said. “She wore all that red lipstick too. That’s never a good sign.”
“Do you have Rachel’s number?” Avery asked. “Or address?”
“I can get it,” Alisha said.
“How do you know Anna’s in Louisville?” Jane asked.
“I don’t. But she’s not in Breckville, as far as we can tell. And she’s not here. She has friends in Louisville.” She looked at her dad. “And, you know, there’s a march tomorrow. Protesting the Tanya Burns shooting. That might be the kind of thing she’d like to attend.”
He winced but didn’t say anything.
“A protest,” Jane said. “That could get violent.”
“Unlikely. Unless the cops show up in full force.”
Her dad’s face turned a darker red. Almost purple. Like an eggplant. “You were one of us once.”
“I quit, though, remember?”
“Most certainly,” he said. “We’ll talk about that again.”
“Will you just bring her back, Avery? That’s all we care about,” Jane said.
“Yes,” Russ said. “You wouldn’t agree to be her guardian when we really needed you to.”
“Russ, not that—”
“Do this for us. And for her. Okay?”
“I’ll try to find her, which is unlikely enough in a city that big. I can’t promise I’ll bring her back. She’s an adult. If she wants to stay in Louisville, she can stay.”
“She’ll come if you ask her,” Alisha said.
“It’s needle-in-a-haystack time.”
Her dad spoke through gritted teeth. “Louisville, that whole area, it’s a cesspool. Crime. I hate it there.”
“I’ll tell them you said hello.”
“Do me one favor,” he said.
“You’re not going with me.” Avery looked around the room. “None of you are.”
He shook his head, which was still purple. “Not that.” He raised his index finger. “On the way to Louisville, do me a favor. Stop and see Charlie Ballard.”
Avery nodded. “That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said all day.”
23
Two miles up 177, Anna reached a giant gas station. It looked newly built, the lights and all the surfaces bright. It occupied almost a full block, with about twenty pumps and as many parking spots around the building as at a sports arena. Anna parked on the side, near one of the air hoses that she could never figure out how to use, and decided to check her phone. She planned to look at her messages, reach out to Rachel, and then shut the phone off again before she moved on.
As she’d expected, an avalanche of notifications poured out of the phone.
“Fuck.”
Texts, calls, voice mails. She almost shut the phone off.
But she needed to deal with the predictable messages from her mom and Alisha.
Call us. Call us. Call us.
“Shhh.” As though the messages could hear her.
Then one from Eric: Babe, where are you?
“Babe”? The fuck.
And again: I hear your coming to Lville this weekend.
You did? Rachel . . .
She checked her voice mail. The usual suspects. She skipped the ones from her mom and Alisha. She might not be able to resist the sound of her mom’s voice. The tentative pleading, the subtle guilt trip. Your father is really wondering where you are. . . .
Kayla was right—it was tough to resist her mom. Her parents knew Kayla’s number—they’d already written to her once. Kayla—likely—wouldn’t sell her out, but if Anna’s mom and dad kept bugging Kayla, she could tell them Anna was okay.
And a message from her cousin Libby. Technically her mom’s cousin, which made Libby her cousin too somehow. Second cousin once removed? Or first? Or what?
Libby was younger than Jane, and a lot more fun. Everyone needed that relative or friend, someone older but kind of outside the immediate family who could talk about things parents couldn’t talk about. Libby filled that role for Anna.
Libby had married a guy named Dale when she was young. Dale had gone off to the army, and when he came back from overseas, he left her, telling her he just wasn’t the marrying kind. Libby had remained single since then. She taught art at a high school in La Grange, traveled in the summer as much as she could. New York, Europe, even a trip to Japan. She promised to take Anna along some summer, but Anna could never scrape together the money, and Libby couldn’t afford to pay Anna’s way. Anna’s dad disliked Libby, liked to call her a busybody and a know-it-all. He just didn’t really like it that much when people he disagreed with expressed strong opinions. People he disagreed with and people who refused to back down from him.
Libby never backed down from Dad.
But Anna had started ducking Libby’s calls and messages a few weeks earlier. It wasn’t that Libby wouldn’t have understood what Anna might be going through, but Anna felt like she would be letting Libby down if she left school without a degree. Libby loved school, always talked about going back and earning more degrees when she retired from teaching. Anna wasn’t sure what she’d say to Libby to explain it all, and so, like a lot of things lately, Anna let it slide.
Libby’s message said: “Hey, kiddo, I’m just checking in. I heard you had a falling-out with your dad. I know he’s a tough nut to crack, so if you want to talk about it, I’m here.” A long pause. “I mean if there’s something else going on. Anything else . . . you know . . .”
Libby sounded like she had something in mind. Trevor? What?
And someone with a Breckville number, one she didn’t recognize, had left a message. A telemarketer?
She ignored it, scrolled through everything else.
Nothing from Kayla?
Her dutiful, mothering friend had managed to go hours without checking up on her? And there Anna was, arriving in Louisville a day late, because of her encounter with Officer Justin Carmichael.
She wrote to Kayla: Hon, do you want to know what I did last night? Betcha can’t guess.
What was the point of hooking up with a guy—a cop who had pulled you over, no less—if you couldn’t tell one of your best friends about it the next day? Sure, Anna could—and would—tell Rachel, but Rachel didn’t shock as easily as Kayla.
No response. Nothing.
Kayla wasn’t in class, wasn’t supposed to be at work. Had she run off to see her girlfriend, Emily? Made a spontaneous run to Nashville for some action of her own?
“Okay,” Anna said, “you’ll have to wait for the juicy news. Maybe until Monday.”
She wrote to Rachel instead: Almost there. I have a story for you!
Rachel wrote back: Trying to get out of work early. I wish I had a bottle here. . . .
Anna laughed out loud. She started to turn the phone off, but curiosity won the day. She played the message from the Breckville number.
“Anna, this is Detective Morris with the Breckville Police Department. We’ve been trying to contact you—”
“Nope.”
Anna deleted the message. Her dad had pulled out all the stops, but it was still a big state. And Louisville was a big city. He could call up Sherlock Holmes if he wanted. Anna clearly intended to avoid detection for the weekend.
She turned the phone off, backed out of the spot, and continued north.
24
Detective Morris pushed through the glass door of the Lunch Box Diner. The irritating iron bell attached to the arm over his head rang, alerting the scattered late-afternoon crowd to his presence.
He scanned the room. Lieutenant Paulson lifted his hand, index finger extended like he was signaling a waiter, and Morris went to join him. He’d missed lunch, and as he slid into the booth, his mind conjured up images of a hamburger dripping grease and a Coke jammed with ice.
He and Paulson shook hands across the table. Paulson wore a fleece pullover on top of a checked shirt. His hair was cropped close to his head, and a mug of weak-looking tea steamed in front of him.
“Thanks for meeting me,” Morris said.
“Thank you. I know the day’s been crazy.”
“That’s an understatement.” He’d never met Paulson before, never even heard of the guy. But when the news had broken about the murder in Breckville—the murder of Anna Rogers’ roommate—someone at KSP took note. And Paulson, who worked out of Post Three, reached out to Morris, asking if he had time to talk. “We get about two murders a year in Breckville. Usually it’s domestic. Or knuckleheads having a fight over something worthless. This one doesn’t quite fit.”
The waitress came, and Morris ordered his dreamed-of hamburger, fries, and Coke. He pointed to Paulson. “You don’t want anything?”
Paulson waved his hand over the table. “I’m good. Thanks.”
“My treat.”
“Thanks, no.” When the waitress was gone, Paulson sipped his tea. He said, “So, nothing like drugs with this Kayla Garvey.”
“Nothing of the sort. Unless she’s really good at hiding it. She seems like the all-American kid. Good grades. Working to pay for part of school.”
“No partner involved?”
“She has a girlfriend in Nashville. Kind of a serious thing, but the woman has an alibi.”
“And you’ve got this Midnight Rambler creep. . . .”
“He’s never killed. Never so much as laid a hand on a woman. It seems to be his goal not to lay hands on a woman. He just likes to stare at them while they sleep.”
“But he could—”
“Sure, he could graduate. Something could have gone wrong. Kayla was a high school athlete. She was pretty fit and strong. There wasn’t any sign of much of a struggle, but maybe she wakes up, sees the creep standing over her, things get out of hand.”
“But you don’t seem convinced.”
“I’m not. It doesn’t fit.”
Morris’ food came. His mouth watered, and he started to eat. He remembered his manners and thought about asking Paulson if he wanted anything. Again. But Paulson seemed like the kind of guy who knew his own mind and didn’t need to be asked twice. He’d come into the Lunch Box and ordered Earl Grey. He didn’t need to be nagged.
Paulson said, “And then there’s the roommate. Anna Rogers.”
Morris nodded as he chewed. Was the food always this good here? “Anna Rogers. Daughter of Captain Russell Rogers. KSP. Retired. I’m guessing you didn’t get in touch because you wanted to monitor my cholesterol intake. You have some information to share.”
“I guess I was hoping for a free exchange of information between different agencies.”
Morris sucked Coke through the straw. “We’ve always had a good relationship with the KSP.”
“True, true.” Paulson squeezed lemon into his tea. Some of the juice sprayed onto the scarred tabletop. “It’s also curious that Captain Rogers’ other daughter found the body.”
“Former KSP herself. You know her?”
“Some. Tough way her career ended as well. Probably some PTSD issues for both of them.”
“A lot of bad luck in one family.”
Paulson withheld comment. “How did that come about?” he asked. “The sister finding the body. I know Avery is working and going to school in Breckville.”
Morris wiped his chin. “Basically, Anna ghosted her family. Had some kind of falling-out with the old man over the Tanya Burns shooting.”
Paulson winced.
“Yeah, sorry to bring up bad news. For the past two weeks or so, Anna hasn’t been answering calls or texts from the family. Also not going to class. She’s pretty much dropped out of life. So the other sister—”
“Avery—”
“Alisha. The middle child. She convinced Avery to go check on their kid sister. Avery goes and finds Kayla’s body.”
“And my understanding is Avery doesn’t really get on well with the old man.”
“I get that sense too.” Morris waited, and when Paulson remained quiet, he went ahead and said, “Sounds like the old man is a piece of work.”
“I think you’re right. I don’t really know him, but he was a good cop. Highly decorated. As you know, he took a bullet that ended his career. He’s still in a lot of pain, from what I understand.” Paulson shook his head. “It could happen to any one of us, and you spend the rest of your life using a walker or a cane. Or worse.”
“And that shooting? Of the old man?”
“Unsolved.” Paulson stirred his tea, the spoon clinking against the mug. “Captain Rogers came across a vehicle abandoned on the side of the road. In the dark. He stopped to check on it, and somebody ambushed him. A shot came out of the trees, hit him in the leg. He was lucky. I’m sure they weren’t aiming for his leg. By the time help arrived, the abandoned car was gone. No real evidence in the trees.”
“What was a captain doing, checking on an abandoned car?”
“He just happened to be driving by.”
“But someone could have been following him or setting him up. Could have been revenge for something.”
“Possible. You bust enough people . . .”
The waitress came and brought Morris another Coke and Paulson more hot water.
“And there’s no sign of Anna?” Paulson asked.
“Not yet. We don’t know if she left town. If she’s hiding somewhere. The kid’s kind of a slob, so it’s tough to tell if she packed to go. Her toothbrush looks like it’s gone. She might have taken off for the weekend. . . .”
“And left her roommate’s body behind?”
“Her phone’s off. We’re waiting for her to surface. Or for a cop to come across her somewhere. It’s a big world.”
