What We'll Burn Last, page 24
“I’ve never cared about your suffering,” she said.
The dog whined as he scratched at the ground, and Olivia moved closer to the garden. What was Goose doing? Why was he so interested in—
Olivia froze as a terrible understanding dawned. Goose’s unflagging interest. The careful way the ground was maintained. Even the shape of it.
This wasn’t a garden. This was a grave.
Olivia grasped at reasons for why it wasn’t Adam—garbage left to compost, or the large pet of a friend buried there as a favor. Or Grace. Olivia’s stomach heaved at the thought, but she clung to it with everything in her.
Oh God, let it be Grace.
Olivia tried to pull her eyes away from that horrible plot of earth, but she was transfixed. If she’d planted the bouquet of wildflowers closer, she would’ve seen the grave days ago.
“That’s why you’re always so angry when Goose is in your garden, isn’t it?” Her voice was quiet because that was all she could manage with her limited breath, in limbo between knowing and not knowing; her chest burned. “Who’s buried here, Meredith?”
She waited for her neighbor to tell her she was wrong, that it wasn’t a grave at all. She waited for the inevitable and snarky comment about Olivia’s dog defecating in the yard or how grief had made her stupid.
Goose waddled back to her, tired of digging. With his flat face and narrow nostrils, he often had trouble breathing, and the smoke and heat didn’t help. Olivia glanced at Thea, still curled up in one of Meredith’s patio chairs, headphones on. The smoke and heat weren’t great for her daughter either.
She looked at Meredith again. The other woman’s face was a mask. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said. But Olivia noted the way her shoulders had started to sag.
Olivia covered the distance between them in seconds, stopping just a few feet short of her. Near her ankles, Goose wheezed.
Olivia’s body shook with the effort of containing a hundred different memories, a thousand different kinds of pain. Adam’s first smile, all gums and drool. His first day of school, his tentative steps as he trudged forward in his oversize Green Arrow T-shirt. The pain of all the lasts, too, grieved only in hindsight.
Adam. Had he really been this close to her for the past sixteen years? She wanted to be wrong. Her stomach roiled with the longing, so fiercely she feared she might vomit. Stars pricked her vision, which had started to go black.
Meredith cocked her head, and her mask slipped, revealing—guilt? “I think you need to sit for a second.”
Fuck this woman’s fake concern.
Olivia retreated to Meredith’s garage, then returned with a shovel. She fought an urge to swing it at the other woman’s head.
“What did you do?” Her voice held unexpected steel.
“Really, Olivia, you don’t look well.”
Olivia stamped toward the grave and began digging. The first layer was soft as if recently overturned, but the ground below was hard, and the dirt she dug up was meager. For a few minutes, Goose pawed at the ground too, then collapsed, exhausted, to watch.
After ten minutes, the shovel struck bone. When Olivia uncovered the top of the skull, she released the shovel and dropped beside the grave. She brushed dirt from the yellowed bone, her gestures frantic, until the jaw was clear—she was seized by the irrational thought that he needed to breathe. When she was able to see the skull and several of the ribs, Olivia pressed her palm tenderly on the frontal bone where once she’d placed wet washcloths to help with fever.
It was Adam. It had to be.
Olivia looked up at Meredith, who watched from a spot several feet away. She stole a glance at Thea, and then, in a voice as low as she could make it and still be heard, she asked, “Is it him?”
Tears of frustration stung her eyes. She should’ve recognized her own son’s bones. She hated that she had to ask Meredith for confirmation.
Meredith didn’t answer, her attention drifting, concern obvious on her face. Olivia turned to see what had her neighbor worried. What could be more important than this?
Leyna had emerged from the forest, half jogging, half stumbling. Olivia straightened, steeling herself to tell Dominic and Richard about Adam. Thea, too, if she hadn’t already figured it out. Olivia glanced toward the patio, reassured when she saw her daughter’s head still bent over her iPad.
But that didn’t mean she hadn’t seen or heard something.
Olivia turned back toward the tree line and waited for Dominic to break through, winded but voice strong. Steady, as he’d been the summer he’d taught Adam to walk.
She waited for him to call to her: I’m here, Mom. I’m okay.
Instead, Leyna drew close enough that the wind and distance wouldn’t swallow her words and stopped. There was blood on her shirt.
Why was there blood on Leyna’s shirt?
“Richard says you have a wagon in the garage?”
Olivia knew which wagon she meant: the heavy-duty one with the all-terrain wheels they took camping. She shook her head—they no longer had it—but why was Leyna asking about the damn wagon?
But then she knew. All that blood on Leyna’s shirt that obviously wasn’t her own.
Olivia’s knees turned to rubber, and her hands flew to her ears. Whatever Leyna had to say, she didn’t want to hear it. Because she recognized the expression on the young woman’s face. She’d seen it before. She closed her eyes to keep from seeing it now.
But the image had already been seared into her memory, and several minutes later when Olivia opened her eyes again, Richard had broken through the tree line too, his body bowed with the weight of what he carried.
Who he carried.
Shock kept Olivia’s hands pinned to her ears, but Richard’s words found her anyway.
“Dominic’s hurt.”
Leyna moved back toward Dominic but stopped when Olivia called, “Stay the hell away from my son.”
A few minutes later, Rocky returned to the Duran house with his truck. Taking immediate stock of the situation, he ran to help Richard. He scooped a semiconscious Dominic into his arms and loaded him into the bed of his Chevy. Rocky retrieved a first aid kit and a couple of bottles of water from his go bag and took out a packet of ibuprofen. He helped Dominic swallow the pills and used the rest of the water to quickly rinse the skin broken by the steel jaws.
Richard was saying something about a bear trap near the old squatters’ cabin. She knew she should be paying attention, but she couldn’t focus on anything beyond her son. She placed a hand on his neck. The skin was clammy, his pulse thready. His skin had gone several shades paler. How much blood had her son lost?
Dominic’s face went slack, his body limp, his breathing shallow. Olivia felt powerless. She’d insisted on installing thousands of dollars of surveillance equipment to protect their children, yet now she could do nothing for her son.
Rocky closed the tailgate of his truck. “I’ve got some first aid supplies at my place. Some stronger painkillers too.” He got in front of Olivia so his face was only inches from hers. “I’ll grab them and get him somewhere safe,” he said. “Promise.”
He forced something into her hands, then got in his truck and drove away.
Olivia realized she was kneeling only when her thighs began to cramp. Gravel bit into her knees. She welcomed the cramping and she ground her kneecaps into the tiny bits of rocks, but the pain remained dull, distant. Not nearly substantial enough to distract her from the other, larger hurt.
Another son lost. Another worst-ever pain.
No, not lost, she reminded herself. Certainly no one died from getting his leg caught in a bear trap? He would be stitched up at the hospital. Rocky would find a way.
Aware of a stabbing sensation in her clenched hand, Olivia opened it to see what Rocky had given her. Dominic’s keys. He must’ve taken them from Dominic’s pocket. Her son’s Toyota 4Runner was a better choice than their Audi.
The fire. For a moment, she’d forgotten about the fire.
Olivia felt abruptly woozy. She leaned forward to catch her breath, palms planted on her thighs for support, knees peppered with gravel.
Richard squeezed her shoulder but said nothing. What was there to say? He’ll be okay? A lie. He’s not conscious, so he’s probably not suffering? She would’ve slapped him.
How much had Thea seen? How was she going to tell her all of it? She couldn’t find the words to get it straight in her own head. How was she going to break the news to her ten-year-old daughter? Thea hadn’t known Adam, so his loss had never seemed real to her. But she adored Dominic, as he did her.
Olivia looked around but saw no sign of Thea. She must’ve left her daughter on Meredith’s patio. Goose too. Her head throbbed. She didn’t know how much she had left in her.
“I’ll tell her,” Richard said as if reading her thoughts, which maybe he had. About their daughter, at least, they’d always been in sync.
While she’d expected the grief, a new swell of anger caught her off guard. Unlike the pain in her gravel-pocked knees, this sensation was substantial enough to eclipse all else.
“She’s still at Meredith’s. I’ll get her.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell him about Adam. Not yet.
As she approached the edge of the Clarkes’ property, she spotted them in the middle of their backyard. Meredith’s arm was around Leyna, a gesture of comfort. Even from that distance, she could tell that Leyna cried.
How dare they grieve her loss?
The anger gave her weight and tethered her so she no longer felt like she might float away. She was firmly in the world again, with all its horror and injustice.
Olivia caught the woodsy smell of smoke. Her nostrils flared as she inhaled. The fire tempted her with its promise of permanent release.
She felt an irrational urge to walk toward the unseen flames as a tingling in her feet. She took one small step. Then another. She imagined the fire burning along some not-too-distant hillside. If she set out in that direction, how long would it take for her to meet the fire? And when she caught it, how long would it take before she burned to bones?
But, Olivia realized, she wasn’t the one who deserved to be destroyed by fire. She imagined the flames erasing the Clarkes from her life forever.
CHAPTER 45
LEYNA
Saturday, 2:58 p.m.
Dazed, Leyna left her mom’s embrace and wandered to the spot where she’d seen Olivia digging, her movements nearly feral. She peered at the patch of earth. Though Olivia had lost interest in the grave when she’d seen Dominic injured, she’d cleared a significant amount of dirt. In the process, she’d uncovered bones. A skull and a few ribs. Enough for Leyna to guess whose they were. Grace had been wearing a synthetic blouse. Leyna thought of the woman’s body unearthed in Los Angeles after two decades, the polyester dress found with her bones. Grace’s blouse wouldn’t have decomposed as quickly as Adam’s cotton T-shirt.
“Are these Adam’s?” Horrified.
The smoke coated her throat, making her cough, but her mom seemed unaffected by it. “For years, I kept waiting for her to return. She had to know I’d keep her secret. I did keep her secret.” She tilted her chin in a gesture of defiance but a tremor was in her voice. “I called in that tip about Grace and Adam being spotted at that campground. Better they look along the banks of the Feather River than near Adam’s grave and better for everyone to believe Grace was a runaway rather than a—” She left the last word unspoken.
Leyna swayed, but her disbelief kept her upright. “Grace isn’t a killer.”
Her mom looked at her with something close to sympathy. “The night they disappeared, I found Adam with his hands around Grace’s throat. Or at least, that’s what I thought at first. Then I realized he was holding her down to protect himself.” Leyna fought an impulse to touch her scar. “I thought—I thought he was hurting her. I hit him. In the head, with a mallet. Just once.”
There was no apology in her voice, as if hitting Adam a single time made it somehow okay. A misunderstanding. One thwack of the mallet. An accident. She half expected her mom to shrug.
“He left the house suddenly, and at first I thought he’d gone home. But when Olivia didn’t call to ask what had happened, I started to worry he’d never made it.” Her voice broke, the slightest of cracks but deafening in its unfamiliarity. Meredith Clarke never showed weakness. Her eyes grew weary too, and when she exhaled, her torso curled in on itself, as if protecting its most vulnerable parts. “I went looking for him. First in our house, then in the neighborhood. And, finally, in the forest.” Her gaze softened as it settled on the spot where she’d buried Adam. “When I found Adam, his skull was crushed on one side.” When her mother saw Leyna’s look, her lips thinned. “It wasn’t from me hitting him, if that’s what you’re about to ask. It was on the wrong side of his head, for one thing, and also—it was brutal. That’s all I’ll say.”
“What about Grace?”
Her mom straightened slightly, though her shoulders still slouched under the weight of the truth. Or was this a performance meant to gain her daughter’s trust? Leyna sensed her preparing excuses, but instead Meredith went still, her eyes growing large and dark.
“Curious how you’re going to answer this one, Mom,” a voice said behind them both.
The voice was raspier than it had been all those years before. Deeper too. But Leyna’s breath caught in her throat even before she turned. She’d been chasing a ghost for sixteen years, always knowing none of the young women she passed on Virginia Street or heading north on the highway or in the aisles of Sprouts would ever actually be Grace.
Until, now, it was.
Grace emerged from the far side of their mom’s house. At first, she seemed an apparition, but she took firmer form as she drew nearer. Grace was here. Grace was really home.
But this wasn’t the Grace that Leyna had been chasing. This Grace had shorter hair, glued to her forehead with sweat. Lines etched the skin around her mouth. The girl who favored cap-sleeved blouses wore dirty khaki shorts and a blue T-shirt with stains ringing its collar.
What had she been up to these past few hours? Where had she been?
Elation filled Leyna’s chest until the stab of long-carried hurt pushed it out of the way. Her legs felt wooden and too heavy to lift. Her vision doubled, and she thought she might pass out. Cautiously, she started moving toward her sister, stopping when only a few feet separated them. Her thoughts grew muddled.
How was Grace alive?
And why had she let Leyna believe she was dead?
Leyna extended her fingers, reaching, but she pulled back at the last instant, afraid stress and the thick haze had made her hallucinate. If she’d covered those last few inches, would she have grazed skin or would she have grabbed smoke?
The smile Grace offered was as guarded as her eyes. “Hi, Ley.”
After sixteen years, the casual greeting seemed an insult. Even an illusion could be expected to do better.
Hi, Ley. Really? That was all she got?
How about an apology? I’m sorry I left you, Ley.
Or, better, an explanation: I had to go away because…
She’d been hunting for an end to that sentence for more than half her life, and Grace appeared at the exact moment they had no time for it.
Typical Grace.
Leyna sensed movement near the patio. Had Olivia finally come to get Thea and Goose? She kept her eyes on her sister, afraid if she turned to check, Grace would disappear again.
“You’re here,” Leyna said, tone reverent.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Olivia closing in with hurried strides, Thea pulled alongside. Goose waddled at their heels. Olivia stopped abruptly a few feet from Grace, her arm a vise on her daughter’s shoulder.
“It is you,” Olivia said, tone and stance hostile. “What did you do to my son?”
With great effort, Meredith pulled her attention away from Grace to look at Olivia. “Leave us,” she said, cool but not unkind. Shock softened the planes of her face. “This is a family matter.”
A strangled sound escaped Olivia’s throat, too much grief and rage in it to be called a laugh. “You talk to me about family.”
Grace took a small step backward. “We’ve all got to go,” she said, frantic. Her eyes locked with Leyna’s. “I’m not sure how much more time we have to find her.” Grace’s chest heaved, though Leyna couldn’t say whether emotion or exertion caused it. “Ley, I’m sorry—”
When Grace moved toward her, Leyna retreated. She wanted to embrace her sister. She wanted to rail against her, apologize, ask all the questions she’d gathered like priceless treasures since she was twelve. But there was only one thing she wanted more than finally getting her answers—to save the niece she’d never gotten the chance to know.
“You’re right,” Leyna said. “We need to find Ellie.” Without taking her eyes from Grace, she said, “We’ll meet you at the creek, Mom. After we find Ellie. That’ll be the safest place.”
Her mom and Olivia both acted as if they hadn’t heard her. Olivia took a step forward, nearly tripping over Goose. “That girl isn’t anywhere near here,” she said. “Why do you care so much about her anyway?”
Meredith sniffed loudly. “Because they’re not sociopaths.”
“Because she’s my daughter,” Grace said.
At once, the group fell silent. Meredith stiffened, and her mouth gaped. Olivia clutched Thea so tightly that the girl winced.
“She’s what?” Olivia shook her head. “How?” Thea tried to shrug off Olivia’s grip, but that only made her mom hold on more tightly. A second later, Olivia’s eyes grew large. “Is she Adam’s?”
Grace ignored her, eyes pinned to Leyna’s. “I’ve looked everywhere. The forest. The old maintenance building. The clubhouse.” She paused. “Mom’s house.”
