Just Between Us

“Sure, nice talking to you, sis.”

My palms were sweating as I hung up the phone. When they found Viktor’s body—if they ever found Viktor’s body—would Sean make the connection? I hadn’t told him their names, but had I said anything else? Given out any other identifying details?

There was no mention of a carjacking, or a body, all day. At three P.M. I drove to the bus stop to wait for the kids, and five minutes later I spotted Julie’s car pull in a few cars behind mine. There was always a queue of parents waiting to pick up the elementary school kids in the afternoon. Aubrey had started kindergarten that year along with Matthew, so Julie was child-free during the school day, too, usually coming straight to the bus stop from showing houses or dealing with clients. I felt desperate to talk to her, eager to know if she’d heard anything or seen anything. I had no reason to drive near Sewickley Heights or the roads beyond it, but she had the perfect excuse.

Usually, she came to me, because I was always closer to the front of the queue, but this time I didn’t wait. After zipping up my coat, I opened the door, feeling the sting of the cold air against my face. As I walked back toward Julie’s car she got out to meet me, only to be intercepted by a mother in one of the cars behind mine. The woman greeted her effusively, but the smile on Julie’s face seemed forced. She kept darting glances at me over the woman’s shoulder. I could hear snatches of the conversation, something about a house for sale by one of Julie’s competitors. “Shut up already,” I muttered. “C’mon, Julie, just end it.”

That distinct sound of a heavier engine turned everyone’s attention to the road as the bus rumbled into view. Julie broke free of the other woman and came toward me as the bus wheezed to a full stop and the doors opened. “Sorry about that,” she said in a low voice. “Heard anything?”

“No, you?”

The kids were streaming off the bus. I saw Lucy pause in the door and look for me before she stepped down, and I waved my hand, getting a sweet smile in return.

“No, nothing. Poor Heather—I hope she’s okay.”

That was all she had time to say before Owen and Aubrey were upon her, clamoring for her attention.

Matthew came off the bus after his sister. “Mommy, look at my moose-a-ick,” he said as he reached my side, holding aloft a large piece of construction paper to which a colorful mix of smaller pieces of paper had been arranged in a pattern that vaguely resembled a cat. Or a dog. Or some other creature altogether. I’d learned it was better not to make assumptions.

“Is this your mosaic? It’s beautiful. I love the colors. Did you choose those?”

“Yes, purple is my bestest color.”

“Best,” Lucy corrected him. “There’s no such word as ‘bestest.’”

“Hon, let him tell his story.”

“Well, it’s not a real word.” She fixed us both with a reproving look, but Matthew ignored her.

“Daniel said it was dumb because there is no such thing as a purple cat, but I said he was dumb because it is my moose-a-ick and I can make it whatever color I want and the teacher said I was right because it was my ’magination.”

We walked back to the car, my arms around both kids’ shoulders. I felt as if I were playing a role, part of me listening and giving the appropriate responses, while another part of me was wondering why there was no news about the carjacking. It was a gray afternoon, dark clouds hovering in the sky like an omen. I helped strap Matthew into his booster seat, while Lucy insisted on buckling herself in. As I pulled back onto the street, I glanced in the rearview mirror, and for a moment what I saw wasn’t the residential street but the last look I’d taken of Viktor’s car disappearing into darkness and shadow.

*

The discovery was announced late on the six P.M. newscast. I was prepping dinner and had the kitchen TV on low so the kids, who were running in and out, wouldn’t hear the litany of scary and depressing things that dominated every broadcast.

“And in breaking news, police are reporting that a UPMC physician was killed last night in Sewickley during a carjacking. The Allegheny County police report that Dr. Viktor Lysenko was found in his car on Fern Hollow Road sometime this morning, the apparent victim of an attempted carjacking. With more on that story, we turn to KDKA reporter Todd Holmes.”

The knife I’d been chopping vegetables with clattered onto the cutting board. The camera switched to a man standing on a familiar-looking road overhung by trees, the lights from his camera casting the police vehicles and crime-scene tape behind him in an unnatural light. It was only just dusk; the front of Viktor’s car was clearly visible, but there were police officers and cars blocking the rest of the view. My pulse pounded in my ears. “Police report that a local resident alerted authorities after spotting Dr. Viktor Lysenko in his car, a Mercedes, on the side of the road this morning. We don’t know all the details yet, but we’ve been told that Dr. Lysenko was shot during what appears to be a botched carjacking. According to the Allegheny County police, Dr. Lysenko was pronounced dead at the scene. The medical examiner has not yet released the cause of his death.”

I tried to pick up the knife again, but my hands were shaking. Of course, Michael chose just that moment to walk in the door. “Daddy!” Lucy cried, and I could hear two sets of small feet pounding down the hall toward him.

“Hello! How was school?” Michael made loud smooching noises. “Oh, you’re getting so big I can barely pick you up.” Lots of giggling. “Let me hang up my coat.”

The hall closet opened and I could hear the ping of hangers. I tried to pull myself together, turning on the tap to try to fill a glass of water, but my hands were shaking so badly that it dropped and shattered in the sink.

“Shit!” My curse brought Michael to the kitchen.

“Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay?” His voice was gentle and kind, yet so unwelcome at that moment.

“It’s nothing. I broke a glass, that’s all.” I knew I sounded gruff, but I couldn’t help it. I grabbed paper towels and began swiping the pieces of glass together.

“Don’t cut yourself,” Michael said. “Here, let me help.” He touched my arm and that’s when he realized I was shaking. “Ali? What is it? What’s wrong?”

I tried to think of what to say, but before I could get the words out the TV did it for me. “Sewickley police are asking anyone who drove I-279 between the hours of ten P.M. Wednesday night and two A.M. Thursday morning and might have seen the Mercedes driven by Dr. Viktor Lysenko to contact them.” A smiling headshot of Viktor appeared on the screen.

“What the hell?” Michael grabbed the remote, turning up the volume, but Viktor’s picture disappeared, replaced by a temperature icon and a snowflake. “There’s snow in the forecast, folks! Our meteorologist, Tina Cho, will tell us how much we can expect. That’s up next, so keep watching KDKA News.”

“Wasn’t that Heather’s husband?” Michael turned from the screen to me. “Did you hear the whole story—what happened?”

“Apparently he was the victim of a carjacking,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.

“Oh my God! Have you spoken to Heather?”

“Not yet,” I said before suddenly bursting into tears. I couldn’t have planned it better, but there was no pretense. Michael wrapped his arms around me and pressed me against his chest.

“It’s okay, it’s going to be okay,” he murmured, stroking my hair. He rocked me a little in his arms and I wanted to stay there forever, hiding from the world, but of course the children interrupted. Matthew rode his scooter into the kitchen and stopped short at the sight of us.

“Why sad, Mommy?” He always reverted to his most babyish when he felt anxious. I pulled away from his father, wiping my eyes with my hands.

“I’m okay, sweetie,” I said, giving him a tremulous smile.

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