Lynn Wells looks at Bernadette, who shakes her head. “He can’t help us,” Bernadette says.
Lynn Wells nods. “This was a mistake.” Both women rise. “We shouldn’t have come.”
They both start for the office door.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
Lynn Wells’s voice is firm. “We’re leaving now.”
“No,” I say.
Bernadette ignores me and circles toward the door. I shift my body to block her.
“Move,” she says.
I look at Lynn Wells. “Maura is in over her head.”
“You don’t know anything.”
When Bernadette goes for the knob, I’m still in the way.
“Are you going to hold us here by force?”
“Yes.”
I’m not bluffing. I have spent my entire adult life waiting for answers, and now that those answers are standing in front of me, I will not let them walk out the door. No way, no how. I will keep Lynn Wells here until I know what she knows. I don’t care what that takes. I don’t care about the ethics or legalities.
Lynn Wells will not leave this room without telling me all she knows.
I don’t move.
I try the crazy eyes, but they won’t come. There is a quake inside of me, an internal shake, and I think they can see it.
“You can’t trust him,” Bernadette says.
I ignore her and focus on Mrs. Wells. “Fifteen years ago,” I begin, “I came home from a hockey game. I was eighteen years old. A senior in high school. I had a great best friend in my twin brother. And I had a girlfriend I thought was my soul mate. I sat at my kitchen table and waited for my brother to come home . . .”
Lynn Wells studies my face. I see something I can’t quite comprehend. Her eyes start to water. “I know. Both our lives changed forever that night.”
“Lynn—”
She waves Bernadette to silence.
“What happened?” I ask. “Why did Maura run away?”
Bernadette snaps, “Why don’t you tell us?”
That reply puzzles me, but Lynn puts a hand on Bernadette’s shoulder. “Wait outside.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“I need to talk to Nap alone.”
Bernadette protests, but she isn’t going to win this one. I move away from the door just a bit. I’m still not taking chances. I open the door just enough so that Bernadette can slip through. I’m actually crazy enough to keep an eye on Maura’s mom as though she might try to bolt through it too. She doesn’t. Bernadette eventually slides through the opening, throwing a baleful glare in my direction as she does.
Maura’s mom and I are alone now.
“Let’s sit down,” she says.
—
“You know how it was between Maura and me back then.”
Lynn Wells and I have turned the two chairs in front of Ellie’s desk so that they are facing each other. I notice now that there is a wedding band on her left hand. She keeps turning and twisting it as she speaks.
She waits for me to reply, so I say, “I do.”
“It was rough. That was my fault. At least, most of it. I drank too much. I resented how being a single mother held me back from . . . I don’t even know what. More drinking, I guess. And the timing didn’t help, what with Maura being a teenager and all that goes along with that. Plus she was naturally rebellious. Of course, you knew that. It was part of what drew you to her, don’t you think? So you mix all that together and . . .”
She makes two fists and then spreads her fingers, indicating an explosion.
“We were struggling. I was working two jobs. One at a Kohl’s. Another waitressing at a Bennigan’s. Maura worked part-time at Jenson Pet Store for a while. You remember that, right?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know why she quit?”
“She said something about allergies to the dogs.”
There is a smile on her face, but there is no joy there. “Mike Jenson kept putting his hand on her ass.”
Even now, even all these years later, I feel the heat rush through me. “Are you serious?”
But of course she is. “Maura said you were hotheaded. She was afraid if she told you . . . Anyway, it doesn’t matter. We lived in Irvington at the time, but when she worked at the pet store, we got a little taste of Westbridge. This woman I worked with at Kohl’s gave me an idea. She said I should move into the cheapest housing in a town with good schools. ‘Your daughter will get the best education that way,’ she said. That made sense to me. Whatever else you can say about Maura, she was whip smart. Anyway, that’s what we did. You two met a short time later . . .”
Lynn Wells fades away.
“I’m stalling,” she says.
“So skip ahead to that night,” I tell her.
She nods. “Maura didn’t come home.”
I keep still.
“I didn’t realize this right away. I was working a late shift and then I went out with some friends. Drinking, of course. I didn’t get home until four in the morning. Maybe four, I don’t even know. I don’t remember. I don’t think I checked her bedroom. Great mom, right? I also don’t know if that would have made a difference. If I saw Maura wasn’t there, what would I have done differently? Probably nothing. I would have figured that she stayed at your place. Or went to the city. She visited friends in Manhattan a lot, though not as much once you two started dating. And when I finally woke up and Maura wasn’t there, well, it was close to noon. I figured she’d gone out already. That made the most sense, right? So I didn’t think much of it. Then I went to work. I had a double shift at Bennigan’s. It was near closing time when the bartender said there was a call for me. That was odd. I got scolded by the manager for that. Anyway, it was Maura.”
In my pocket, I feel my phone vibrate. I ignore it.
“What did she say?”
“I was worried, you know. Because like I said, she never called me at work. So I hurried over and said, ‘You okay, hon?’ and she just said, ‘Mom, I’m going away for a little while. If anyone asks, I’m too upset by what happened and I’m changing schools.’ Then she tells me, ‘Don’t talk to the police.’” She takes a deep breath. “You know what I say back?”
“What?”
The sad smile is back. “I ask her if she’s high. That’s the first thing I ask my daughter who is calling me for help. I say, ‘Are you high or something?’”
“What did she say?”
“Nothing. She hung up. I’m not even sure she heard me. And I didn’t even know what Maura meant by being upset by what happened. See, I was that out of it, Nap. I didn’t even know about your brother and that Styles girl yet. So I just went back to work, you know, waitressing. I got two tables complaining by now. And I was taking an order at a table across from the bar, you know they got all those TVs on?”
I nod.
“Well, usually it’s on sports, but someone flipped it over to the news station. That’s when I saw . . .” She shakes her head. “God, how awful. They didn’t say any names. So I didn’t even know it was your brother or anything. Just two Westbridge students got run over by a train. So maybe now Maura’s call made a little bit of sense to me. I figured she was upset by this, wanted a few days away to deal with it. I didn’t know what to do, but I’ve learned a few things in my life. One was not to react too quickly. I’m not the smartest woman. Sometimes if you have a choice of taking Road A or Road B you should just stay where you are until you know the lay of the land. So I calmly finished my shift. Like I said, it all made sense. Except, well, what about the part about not talking to cops? That part bothered me, but I was too busy working to think about it much. So anyway, when my shift was over, I went out to my car. I was supposed to meet up with a guy I’d started seeing, but I didn’t want to anymore. I just wanted to get home and hunker down. So I walked out to the lot. It was pretty empty by then. And there were these men there waiting for me.”
She turns away and blinks.
“Men?” I repeat.
“Four of them.”
“You mean like cops?”
“That’s what they said. They flashed badges at me.”
“What did they want?”
“They wanted to know where Maura was.”
I’m picturing this. Bennigan’s had closed down years ago, replaced by another chain restaurant called the Macaroni Grill, but I know the parking lot.
“What did you tell them?”