Jake told himself to remain calm. “Pam, you said you don’t have time to talk, so let’s not waste time fighting.”
“It’s so unfair to me, Jake!” Pam raised her voice. “This is unfair to me and him! You’re the one who put us in this impossible situation! You’re the one who told him it was okay to drive in the first place!”
“We’ve been over this—”
“But somehow, I’m the one who’s a murder suspect, and now, a target! That girl would be alive if not for you!”
Jake felt the truth in her words, and her contempt for him, like a knife to the chest. “I know that, believe me, I know that every minute. But as far as we go, you and me, please just let me live at home, at least for the foreseeable future.”
“Damn you! Damn you for doing this! You’re putting me in a corner!”
“No, I’m trying to make the best of it. We have to stay together. You want to kick me out later, fine, but for right now, let’s agree to disagree.”
“I’ll be damned if I’ll pretend that everything is fine!”
“You don’t have to.”
“You’re damn right I don’t! This is awful, Jake, all the way down—”
“I know that—”
“It’s awful and it’s all your fault. Now you’re telling me we’re in danger and all of it is your fault!”
“Honey, I’m sorry, I’ve said it a thousand times, and I mean it—”
“Wait, hold on.” Pam lowered her voice, as if someone had come into the room. “See you at home by six fifteen. Don’t be late.”
“Okay, bye,” Jake said, but Pam had already hung up.
Chapter Forty
The sky was beginning to darken, and an early chill came on. Jake had searched the parking lot at the corporate center over an hour, with no luck. He’d found three black BMWs, but one had a New Jersey license plate and none had a plate with HKE. It was still his theory that the killer worked at the corporate center, though he kept it open as a possibility that the killer worked elsewhere and used Dolomite Road to park, finding it on his own.
Jake parked in his driveway and walked to his front door, glancing over his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t been followed by the detectives or anyone else. Nothing on their street was amiss, and there were no cars he didn’t recognize. The houses stood quiet because nobody was home from work yet.
Jake unlocked the door and let himself in, but Moose didn’t greet him. He stopped, feeling a glimmer of worry, but heard voices talking in the kitchen and one of them was Ryan’s. “Ryan?” Jake called out, puzzled. “You’re home?”
“Hey, Dad! We’re in the kitchen!”
We? “Hi! Be right in.” Jake tossed his keys on the console table and slid out of his jacket, noting that his sleeve had tiny tears from the thornbushes. He set the jacket on the chair and walked to the kitchen, where Ryan was sitting at the table with a girl Jake didn’t know. Soda cans, an open bag of hard pretzels, and crumpled napkins covered the table, next to an open laptop and two stuffed backpacks. Moose sat next to Ryan’s chair, sniffing the pretzel bag, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.
“Dad, this is Sabrina, from the track team.” Ryan flushed, gesturing at the girl, who looked tall and wiry, and her long, dark red hair was tied back in a floppy double ponytail. She had on a gray dress, whose short sleeves showed the ripped arms of a runner. Her eyes were grayish, and tiny freckles dotted her largish nose and cheekbones, which were pronounced, even a little gaunt, like someone with zero body fat.
“Hey, Mr. Buckman.” Sabrina half-smiled, showing a row of Invisalign braces. “Nice to meet you.”
“Hi, Sabrina.” Jake crossed to the refrigerator, opened the door, and slid out a can of Diet Coke. He wished he could talk to Ryan alone and see how he was doing, because he seemed subdued and disheveled, with his bangs in his eyes and his blue polo shirt wrinkled.
“Dad, did Mom tell you about the memorial assembly tonight for Kathleen Lindstrom?”
“Yes, that’s why I’m home early. How was school?” Jake avoided Ryan’s eye while the awkward moment passed. He had no idea how his son would get through such a difficult evening, knowing what they had done and having to put on a false face for all of his classmates.
“Fine, good.” Ryan met his eye briefly, then looked away.
“What happened to practice?” Jake leaned against the counter. He didn’t like the fact that Ryan was alone in the house, with God-knows-who watching.
“They canceled it because of the assembly tonight. The whole athletic department’s going.”
“I see. How did you get home?”
“Sabrina’s mom dropped us off. We can take her to school with us, after Mom gets home. That’s okay, right?” Ryan’s expression looked guarded, and Jake knew he was giving him the heads-up.
“Sure, great. So what are you guys doing? Homework?”
“No,” Ryan answered. “Sabrina has to give a speech tonight at the assembly, and I’m helping her. Rather, I’m supposed to be helping her, but we’re not doing so great.”
“I’m sure you’re helping.” Jake cringed inwardly, on Ryan’s behalf.
Sabrina frowned at the laptop, tucking a strand of long red hair behind her ear. “I suck at writing. I freeze up. Ryan’s one of the best writers in the class, that’s why I asked him to help me. I don’t know how to do this, especially this, like, a eulogy. It’s too hard.”
Jake felt a stab of guilt. “I’m sorry about your loss. Was Kathleen a good friend of yours?”
“Not really, because she just came this year, so it wasn’t like I had that much time to get to know her. I’m team captain, and Coach wants me to do it…” Sabrina faltered. “I just can’t believe Kathleen’s really gone. It’s so … weird.”
Ryan looked away.
Jake nodded, pained. “I’m sure it’s difficult. I know.”
Sabrina kept shaking her head. “I’m supposed to give this speech, but I don’t know what to say and I don’t want to say the wrong thing. I can’t speak in front of all of those people. Kathleen’s mom is going to be there and her father, and my parents and everybody in the school will be there, waiting for me to say something, and I mean, everything I write sounds lame.” Sabrina deflated, and her gaze returned to the laptop. “But I still have to write this speech, and I don’t know what to say. I don’t have that much time left and what I wrote so far really sucks.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Ryan motioned at the laptop. “You have a good start.”
“Argh.” Sabrina moaned. “No I don’t, and Coach said it has to be, like, three hundred words. I only have forty words so far, and I worked on it the entire study hall. I can’t do it. Mr. Buckman, can you help?”
“Sure.” Jake faked an encouraging smile.
“I’ll read you what I have so far.” Sabrina hunched over the laptop. “First, and this doesn’t count for the words, I have to introduce myself and say thank you to everyone for coming, like to the faculty and families. Right?”
“Right.”
“Okay. Then, I say,” Sabrina read from the laptop, “‘The Lady Chasers and Concord Chase High School in general suffered an extremely tragic loss when Kathleen Lindstrom was killed last Friday night in a horrible hit-and-run accident. Everybody loved Kathleen, who was friendly, outgoing, an asset to our team, a great hurdler, and fun to be with.’” She looked up. “Mr. Buckman, what do you think?”
“That’s a great start.” Jake was trying to say something helpful, but the words practically lodged in his throat. “Keep going.”
“But I don’t know what to write next. I’m sucking. I can’t do this.” Sabrina buckled her lower lip. “It’s so horrible that she died and it’s even worse that the guy didn’t even stop and see if she was okay. People like that should be shot. I should say that, I should give a speech about that.”
“No, just keep going. You can do it. Write what you feel.”