They got up and crossed Blakemore, walked onto the Vanderbilt campus. Tom was a professor at Vandy, biology, so Josh had access to Vanderbilt’s library anytime he wanted, but they’d have to be discreet.
Josh was quiet, vibrating with emotion. Who could blame him? He’d just had the worst and best news of his life dropped on him without warning. He was embarrassed, too. He shouldn’t have lied. And he really didn’t want to get reported for cutting.
“You were four when he died . . . went away?” Aubrey asked.
Josh nodded.
“Okay. Let me talk.”
That wasn’t hard. He was still caved in on himself, speechless. He followed her through the doors and to the resource desk. The reference librarian behind the counter barely looked their way when Aubrey asked for The Tennessean archives from nine years ago. She was impressively businesslike. They were just a couple of kids doing an assignment.
A minute later, the librarian handed over the box and pointed them to the microfiche machine. Aubrey fed the film into the machine like she’d done it a hundred times.
Josh whispered, “What are we looking for?”
“The name Ed Hardsten connected with a crime.”
“That will take years.”
“No, it won’t. What month did this all happen?”
“April.”
“Easy. Trust me.”
The first story they found wasn’t front-page news, but it was the lead on the local section. The headline read Local Man Indicted on Fraud and Conspiracy to Murder: Ed Hardsten to Serve Ten Years.
Aubrey read the story to Josh, stumbling a little over some of the Latin terms, but they got the gist of it. As her foster brother, Tyler, would say, Ed Hardsten was a bad dude.
Aubrey could understand why Daisy had said he was dead. She was rather fascinated, actually. Perfect Daisy, who looked down her nose at Aubrey, had been married to a tattooed, clearly naughty almost-murderer.
Aubrey expertly printed out the story, then searched some more. She found one more reference to Hardsten, in another murder investigation a few years later, but couldn’t find anything else. It was enough, though. Josh was satisfied.
They returned the microfiche to the librarian. Aubrey folded the page into a small square and put it in the back pocket of her jeans. She could tell Josh didn’t want it. That would be too much to ask.
“It’s two o’clock. We can go home now.”
Josh nodded, and they headed toward his house. His neighborhood bordered the back edge of Dragon Park, Craftsman-style houses in dark wood with short driveways and green lawns, sheltered by tall leafy trees. An upstanding area. Near where Aubrey used to live. Before death and Sandy and Tyler—her uncomfortable new life. She hated coming here. Hated remembering.
The huge mosaic-covered cement dragon cast shadows on them as they walked by. Community art, it was called, this massive plaything that gave the park its name. Every once in a while, Metro would sponsor a picnic, and the neighbors would come to glue fresh tiles to the dragon’s side.
Aubrey briefly touched the small square tips of cracked tiles that made up her favorite mosaic, the girl in red, as they passed by. A delighted scream sounded near her head. She watched a small girl slide off the dragon’s nose and fly into a heap at her laughing mother’s feet. Bitterness swelled inside her.
That should be me. I should have a red dress like that, and live on the edge of the park, and spend the afternoon playing with my mother.
She picked up a rock. Took a step toward the girl. Josh slowed, looked at her queerly.
Aubrey swallowed, pocketed the rock, stowed her anger. It was Josh’s turn to be upset now. Josh, who had all the things Aubrey wanted but threw them away at every turn. For her.
They timed it so they’d arrive at 2:30 p.m. on the dot. School was normally dismissed at 2:25 and the walk was short, only five minutes. He couldn’t wait anymore, practically pulled her along in his haste to get home.
When they arrived, legs sore from the walk, Aubrey hung back outside the house.
“I should probably go.”
“No, Aubrey, please. Please stay with me.” His face was still crumpled, and he was pale. Even so, he was the most handsome boy she’d ever seen. How could she abandon him now, when he needed her the most?
Against her better judgment, she agreed. He gave her a brief, hard hug, and they went into the house.
Daisy was in the kitchen, making cookies. There were always fresh cookies at Josh’s house. Aubrey’s stomach rumbled. She’d really like to live in a world where she could come home to fresh cookies instead of the unwashed, snaggletoothed glory that was Sandy.
But then she’d have to have someone like Daisy to tell her what to do.