Max sat in the pew to the left of the altar during Kevin’s funeral service at St. Bede’s where she could watch who came to pay their respects. Anita Gonzales sat near the front with several elderly women who were probably Kevin’s neighbors. In the back, as if to make a quick getaway, were a hodgepodge of casually dressed young people, who Max suspected were Kevin’s coworkers at the coffee shop. A few other people dotted the pews of the large church, including Kevin’s mother, Helen, who sat in the back and didn’t talk to anyone except Jodi. His father hadn’t shown up at all.
Mrs. O’Neal had aged greatly. They’d moved out of Atherton after the trial, and Max didn’t think either Helen or Rob had truly recovered from the stigma of having a son on trial for rape and murder. Adding to this was Kevin’s subsequent drug and alcohol abuse and now, his suicide. But the least Mrs. O’Neal could have done was to help Jodi deal with the mourners, with the church, with closing up Kevin’s apartment. Max considered her selfish in her aloofness, letting a nineteen-year-old handle the pressure of the funeral. Mrs. Gonzales showed more sincere affection for Jodi and her grief than Jodi’s own mother. It was clear that Jodi was trying to do everything for her brother, who had few people who cared whether he had a funeral or not.
Jodi had asked her to give a eulogy, but Max declined. What could she say about him? She hadn’t spoken to him in more than a decade. And she certainly couldn’t talk about his suicide or what she’d found in his apartment. She hadn’t even told Jodi yet, waiting for the right time—which was not going to be now. The girl was a bundle of nerves as it was.
After the readings, Jodi walked up to the pulpit to talk about her brother to the church that sat six hundred and fifty, but currently had only thirty people in the cavernous space.
“Kevin was my big brother. He always supported me and encouraged me to pursue my art, even when our dad said I’d never make any money from my drawings.” She tried to laugh, but it came out as a half sob. “We both loved books, shared them all the time. Kevin particularly loved science fiction and fantasy, and he used to laugh at my collection of Nora Roberts books. But you know, I always wanted the happy ending.”
As Jodi spoke, the rear doors opened and William entered, taking a seat in one of the back rows. Though Saturday, he was dressed in a suit and tie and looked like the lawyer he was.
Before Lindy’s murder, William and Kevin had never been best buddies, but they’d gotten along because they all hung out with the same people. In some ways, Lindy had been the glue of their extended group. She knew everyone. She organized every party, every event, served as class president, had been homecoming queen. Max often wondered if Lindy’s life was one long checklist of things to do. Swim team, check. Student body president, check. Date the high school quarterback, check. Max wasn’t surprised she hadn’t maintained any friendships from high school, other than her cousin, because after Lindy was killed, no one in their school would talk to her because she sided with Kevin.
She’d never forget what Caitlin Talbot had said to her the first day of Kevin’s trial, after the judge closed the courtroom to everyone except those who needed to be there. Max had been sitting on a bench outside, waiting for information. Caitlin was there—maybe to give testimony, or to show support to Mr. and Mrs. Ames, Max didn’t know at the time—and stood in front of Max.
“Lindy always said you were her best friend, but you’re showing your true colors now.”
“True colors? What do you mean by that?”
“I hope Lindy haunts you for the rest of your life. She always defended you and stood up for you even when you were a total bitch. No one trusts you. You’re siding with the enemy. A killer. Kevin raped and strangled her, and it’s going to be proven in court. I told her you were white trash, and this proves it.”
“Proves it?”
“You shouldn’t have the Revere name. Oh, but wait, you don’t even know what your real name is, do you?”
Caitlin had always been good at pulling out the most hurtful thing she could say and using it when a person was at their lowest. Max had always prided herself at being able to verbally defend herself, not letting Caitlin or anyone else get under her skin. But that day, it had. That day she’d wondered if she was betraying Lindy in some way. What else could she have done? Kevin looked her in the eye and swore he hadn’t killed their friend. Max believed him.
William caught Max staring at him, and he looked away. Max took a deep breath and focused on Jodi talking about how Kevin used to take her to the park every Sunday afternoon, just the two of them, and how she’d never forget him pushing her higher and higher on the swings.
She half wanted Olivia Langstrom to show up at the funeral, but so far she was a no-show. Last night, when she couldn’t sleep, Max had dug around and learned that Olivia was living in nearby Palo Alto, married to a college professor who looked at least fifteen years her senior.
For a long time, Max didn’t believe Kevin about his odd relationship with Olivia, but she kept coming round to the fact that Kevin didn’t have to tell her. She’d believed him when he told her—and the jury—that he’d been home when Lindy had been murdered. There was no reason to confess that he’d really been with Olivia, except that the guilt of his lie had been too much for him to keep to himself. Olivia had been part of their clique, the daughter of a respected and feared town council member; her testimony would have removed any cloud of doubt. In fact, Kevin would never have been charged had Olivia come forward.
The more Max thought about it, the more confused she was about why Kevin lied, why he told her the truth—if it was the truth—and why Olivia never spoke about that night. There was definitely something more to that part of the story, which now only Olivia Langstrom could answer.