BREAKING: Police discover missing teenager’s car
Wisconsin State Police confirm that a vehicle found in an abandoned garage in Broken Falls belongs to Bailey Hammond, 17, who has been missing since late Saturday night. Police have not commented on what they found inside the vehicle but have said that a full forensic examination is under way. A source close to law enforcement says that the discovery of Miss Hammond’s car comes off a suspicious discovery earlier today, and that police are ramping up their search for the missing teen.
I lean over the wastebasket under my desk, but all I manage is a dry heave. I spit on top of a discarded draft of an English paper.
Abandoned garage. I think of the bank-owned old farmhouse behind us, the one my father says will never sell because no one is looking to buy ten acres of property in this market. I’ve seen the enormous double garage out back, its doors rusted from years of weather and neglect. It has to be that house.
Because that house—that garage—is less than half a mile from Sparrow Hill. Of course the police would look there after finding that blood in the Leeds Barn. After I found the blood in the Leeds Barn.
There’s a ringing in my ears, nearly drowning out the thoughts forming: I hand-delivered Bailey’s phone to the police. I led them straight to the blood.
And I can only imagine what that detective is thinking now: What is Kacey Young going to find next?
CHAPTER TEN
I must fall asleep at some point, because I wake up to the sound of pots clattering in the kitchen. The cable box says it’s after nine; I sit up in a panic. I’ve overslept. No, the school is still closed. I blink away the fog and rub my temples.
I check my phone to make sure the news story about Bailey’s car wasn’t a terrible nightmare. My stomach sinks to my feet; the story is still there, with an amended headline: Forensic examination of missing teen’s car to begin today.
A chill skates over me. I climb out of bed and drape a fleece blanket over my shoulders. Ashley should be at work by now, so it must be Andrew making that racket.
I open my bedroom door to the smells of cheese and onion, but it’s not Andrew who greets me when I get to the kitchen. Ashley’s crouched with her head inside the lower cabinet. Her entire set of cookware is strewn across the counter.
“Sorry I woke you,” she says. “I asked your father to fix this pot rack five times.”
“What are you doing home?” I ask.
“Paula and Rob can manage the café for today.” Ashley lifts the cover of the slow cooker and uses the wooden spoon to transfer the casserole to a pan. “I thought I’d get this over to the Hammonds. You know, give them our best.”
My stomach tucks into itself. Of course Ashley made a casserole. It’s what people do in the Midwest when someone dies. And everyone thinks Bailey’s dead because the police found her car, and she’s not in it.
“Kacey?”
My head snaps up. Ashley is watching me as she sprinkles shredded cheese over the casserole in the cast-iron pan. “I asked if you wanted to come to the Hammonds’ with me.”
I know I have no choice, after ditching the vigil last night. But the thought of looking Cathy Hammond in the eye nearly makes me sick all over the kitchen floor.
And Jade: she’s never, ever going to forgive me for leaving her alone.
“Okay,” I say. “Let me change.”
—
It’s half past ten when Ashley pulls up to the curb outside Bailey’s house. The cast-iron pan in my lap is hot through the towel draped across my thighs.
“Um,” I say. “Does Cathy know that I’m the one who found—who was there at the barn?”
Ashley looks at me. If I’d blinked, I would have missed her lower lip quiver. She forces a smile like someone’s beating it out of her. “I don’t—I wouldn’t worry about that right now, okay? Let’s get inside before you burn yourself.”
Ashley rings the doorbell, since I have to carry the pot with both hands. A flit of panic—I should have made Ashley carry the casserole, since she’s the one who insisted on making it. I can’t wrap my head around how this is supposed to help.
Then Cathy Hammond answers the door. She sees Ashley and collapses into her arms, nearly taking her down, and I’m grateful my hands are occupied.
The Hammonds’ house has a stale smell to it, even though it’s clean. It’s as if all the grief and uncertainty inside is polluting the air. Bailey was always embarrassed by the house; her parents haven’t done a thing to update it since they bought it in 1989.
“Oh, you shouldn’t have gone through all the trouble. I haven’t eaten a thing in days.” Cathy smiles weakly and takes the casserole from my hands so I can remove my boots. It looks like she’ll break under the weight of the pot. She’s all bones, bird arms jutting out from her too-big cardigan. Once I asked Bailey how her mother stays so skinny, and she said, “From obsessing.”
I always thought it was endearing, how her mom worried. The Hammonds aren’t religious; instead, Cathy abides by the prophet of the nightly news anchor and worships in front of the TV every Friday night. Filling her brain with every possible bad thing that could happen to anyone, ever, but especially to her kids.
She and Ed grounded Bailey for a month for getting into that car with Cliff Grosso last spring. Cathy still brings it up, still tells Bailey, Someone was watching over you that night.
The irony now makes me sweat under my jacket. I tear my eyes away from the television in the living room and follow Ashley and Cathy into the kitchen.
I stop short when I see Jade sitting at the kitchen table. Her eyes meet mine. She puts an elbow on the table and props up her chin with her hand, never moving her eyes from me. They are blank, expressionless. Like I’m nothing.
Cathy drops into the seat at the table like she just can’t anymore. Ashley sits across from her and takes her hand. “I’ve been praying. Every night. We all have.”
Cathy stares at me, as if for confirmation. I nod. Rest my hands on the table. The vinyl tablecloth protector sticks to my palms. I don’t think I’ve prayed since I was a child. I prayed for my mom’s boyfriends to go away, for her to change, and for us to live in a normal house where there was no screaming or ugliness.
I learned really quickly that praying doesn’t do shit.
“The vigil was lovely.” Ashley gives Cathy’s hand a squeeze.
“Mm-hm.” Cathy uses her free hand to smooth out a wrinkle on her cardigan sleeve. Rakes her gaze over Ashley and me. “Thank you both for coming.”
I realize that she didn’t even notice I wasn’t there last night. I’m torn between relief and feeling inconsequential. Jade is still staring at me, letting me know my absence was noticed. And unforgivable.
Cathy jerks; she starts to stand. “Oh my, I haven’t offered you anything. What would you like? Coffee? I don’t have any creamer—Ed is actually out grabbing a couple things now—”