The chatter of the water under the car bridge seemed to grow louder in the silence, and depressed, Lilly watched the glint of moonlight around the rocks. Meg had said she could hear voices in the water. The fanciful girl was always talking to herself, having one-sided conversations that Lilly never gave any mind to. But what if her imaginary friends were really Penn? What if her mother wasn't crazy? What if . . . what if what she saw today was real?
Lilly started for the bridge, her heart pounding. The darkness slipped around behind her, the glow from the upstairs window vanishing as she entered the night. The heat rose, shifting her hair until her sandals clumped on the thick wood, and the chatter of the water muffled the crickets. The air over the water was cooler, and she leaned on the railing to see the fireflies above her to look like fairy stars.
The sudden need to take off her sandals and put her feet in was almost unbearable. The water sounded so inviting, and the hot earth was full of her past, a chain weighing her down and preventing her from moving. She had to be free of it if only for a moment. If there were voices to be heard in the water, then she'd hear them. She'd know once and for all.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," she muttered as she sat down on the edge of the bridge and slipped her sandals off. Below her, the water moved, a silken sheet of silver looking like heaven's breath flowing among the living, unseen but not unfelt. A moment, and it would be over. Either her mother was crazy, or she was.
Lilly held her breath and leaned over the edge, wishing for something, anything to tell her what was real. It lay below her, just beyond the skin of shimmering silver.
But then the familiar sound of Kevin's SUV rose over the crickets. Still sitting on the bridge, she turned to see a pair of lights bouncing over the ruts, coming in from the outskirts and back into town.
Lilly drew her feet up and stood. Her pulse quickened, and she shoved her anger down. She was a grown woman. She could talk to him and not let their past get in the way-even if the past was all anyone had.
Her motion slow and somewhat antagonistic, she left her sandals on the bridge and walked through the powdery dust and grit to the main road, not wanting him to drive into the yard as he usually did. She had called him, but she was not going to go back to the way things had been. Arms crossed, she waited by the mailbox, trying to decide what she was going to say.
The squeak of the brakes was familiar, and Kevin-good-looking, football hero, gone-away-to-college-and-come-home, good-old-boy Kevin-swung his head as he brought the police SUV to a halt, parking on the wrong side of the road and turning the engine off. She frowned as the hot engine ticked as it cooled, remembering how his hands had felt on her, the feelings he drew through her, the plans they had made that he had ruined. She'd thought he might be someone she could spend the rest of her life with. Now nothing was left but bitter betrayal and a frustration for four wasted years.
"Lilly," he said in greeting, almost taking his hat off. "You look good barefoot."
She swallowed back six different ugly words. "You got my message?"
He had the decency to look embarrassed, ducking his head as he turned down the police radio. "I saw it was you and I was afraid to pick up."
The crickets sang as her toes dug into the soft, warm dust. "Kevin."
"I deserved everything you said." Kevin's face was red. She could see it even in the dark. "I can't argue with it. You were right. It stings a little, though."
Suck it up, little man. But she was silent as she remembered the shock on his face when she had walked in, Deana's nervous laugh as she scrambled for her clothes. I should have torched your car, she thought, hearing the crickets chirp faster. That would really sting.
Nervous, Kevin leaned back in his seat, his hands still on the wheel. "We can still talk though, right? Go to the same picnics? Avoiding you is hard in a small town."
His smile pissed her off. "Sure."
Thinking everything was okay, he leaned forward again with a relieved smile. "So what's up? Is it Pepper? I've had a string of calls this week about missing pets. Dogs and cats, mostly, but Perrot found a gutted yearling at the edge of his pasture. I'm thinking coyotes, but the track looked bigger. Pack of wild dogs, maybe. You might want to keep Meg and Em close to home until we're sure."
Nice of you to think of them. "I'll do that. Kevin, it's about my mom."
Relaxing, he put an arm on the window between them, his eyes going to the house and the lights shining onto the sun-baked grass. "Emily? What's the matter?"
"She's been acting odd. Wandering." Lily was glad the night hid her flush.
He pulled his arm in, concerned. "She's not that old."
Lilly nodded, quashing the grateful feeling that he-that anyone-cared. "I know. That's what worries me. She's been talking about the past a lot. I think it's because Meg is getting older, reminding her of something she's tried to forget." She took a deep breath, resolving to be out with it. This was why she called him, not just anyone.
"Kevin, did your dad ever tell you what happened when she was fourteen? My mom won't tell me anything." There was no way she was going to admit to him that her mother was having delusions of a beautiful boy in the wood and killing chickens to try to turn him into a tree.
Kevin's brow furrowed as he ran a hand across his stubbly chin. "No. He won't talk about it either, but I've heard things. One of the perks of working with people who remember you in diapers is that they think you're either an idiot or deaf."
Lilly's heart pounded, and she moved closer to the truck. "Was she raped?"
Her relief when he shook his head was almost enough to make her knees wobble. "No. Thank God. She and my dad found the body of a murdered vagrant while they were picking blackberries."
Dead vagrant . . . That explained a few things. And yet, it makes Mom's story more believable, too.
"There was some talk for a while that whoever had done it was going to come after them, and the two of them pulled a Huck Finn, vanishing for a few days before showing up for dinner muddy and scratched. Everything was shelved when the state couldn't find out who the man was and no one ever claimed him. He's still at the old potters' field in case someone comes asking. I can show you the gravestone if you want. There's no file. Least not one I could find."
"No, thanks anyway." A curious mix of relief and dread was making it hard to think. Distracted, she pulled at her shirt to get the air moving. It was stifling.
"You want me to look around? Check out your barn? Wild dogs are dangerous when they pack up. I should check the caves you have on your property."