“You’re kidding.” I didn’t look at Maggie. I never should have dragged her into this.
“I’d like to take another look in his room for the right articles of clothing.”
I hesitated, maybe a moment too long. “Sure,” I said. “Go ahead.”
We followed Sergeant Wood upstairs, Maggie gnawing her lip. I wished she didn’t look so guilty.
In Andy’s room, I watched the sergeant pull the correct pair of sneakers from his closet. “These look more like it,” he said. He withdrew a photograph from his shirt pocket and studied it, then handed it to me.
My hand was damp with sweat as I took the photograph from him. The picture was of two boys I didn’t know, posing like bodybuilders, flexing their arms to show off their small adolescent biceps. Andy and Emily stood off to one side of the boys, vacant looks on their faces, clearly incidental to the main subjects of the photograph.
“I was sure he was wearing those others,” I said, afraid the sergeant would lift the shoes to his nose and smell what I had smelled on them, but he simply dropped them into two separate bags. I looked at the picture again. “And I could have sworn he’d had on that sage-colored shirt.”
“Me, too,” Maggie added. “He had it on earlier that day, so I guess we got mixed up.”
I wanted her to be quiet, afraid she’d give us away—if we were not already given away.
“Uh-huh,” Sergeant Wood said. I didn’t think he believed a word we were saying, but apparently he wasn’t going to call us on it. At least not yet.
He finished his collection of clothing and we followed him downstairs again.
“Good day, ma’am. Miss.” He nodded to us, then let himself out.
As soon as the door shut behind him, Maggie grabbed my arm.
“Why didn’t you throw them away?” she asked. “The shoes and his clothes?”
“I didn’t think of it,” I said. “I never thought of pictures. But I should have given them the right clothes from the start. That was really stupid of me. I’m sorry, Maggie.”
We fell quiet, neither of us moving away from the front door.
“What should it matter?” I asked. “He’s innocent, so the clothes won’t have anything flammable on them, right?”
“Oh God, I hope not.”
“Maggie, you can’t possibly think—”
“What if his cigarette lighter leaked, like you said?”
“Then we’ll explain about the lighter,” I said calmly. “I met with the lawyer this morning, and he said everything’s circumstantial evidence so far. So as long as the clothes come back clean, Andy’s in the clear.”
She looked at me with worry in her eyes.
“Nothing will be on them, Maggie.” I hugged her to me and she melted in my arms, unusual for my independent daughter. “We have nothing at all to worry about.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Maggie
I DIDN’T HEAR ANYTHING FROM BEN THE DAY after Dawn busted me, even though I left six messages for him. Between the cop coming back for Andy’s clothes and me waiting for Mom to say, I had a call from Dawn Reynolds today, Maggie, I was ready to slit my wrists. And I had the tiniest—just the teeny tiniest—bit of doubt about Ben. That was the worst part of all.
He finally called on my cell that night. “I’ll call you right back!” I said. Then I went out to our pier; I couldn’t take the chance Mom would overhear me.
I speed-dialed him as soon as I was far enough from the house to talk. “I’ve been freaking out!” I said when he picked up. “What did Dawn say?”
“Everything’s cool,” Ben said. “At least for now. She was rabid when I got home last night, though.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I calmed her down. That took a while.” He laughed a little. “I told her…you know…how she thought we…her and me…have something that we don’t.”
I relaxed. I used to feel sorry for Dawn, but after last night when she was such a bitch, that was over. “Was she really upset?”
“Yeah. Sure. I think she got it, though.”
“Do you think she’ll tell?” I’d reached the end of the pier and sat down on one of the posts. “I thought for sure she’d call my mother today.”
“Well, that could still be a problem, Maggie. She thinks it’s wrong for us to see each other. That I’m robbing the cradle.”
“That’s our business!” I heard my voice carry over the dark water and wondered if the pier was such a good idea after all.
“Well, I just don’t want her to make it her business, if you get what I’m saying.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think you and I need to lay low for a while. Just till Dawn settles down.”
“What do you mean, lay low?”
“Not see each other. Definitely not at The Sea Tender. We can talk and e-mail, but I don’t think we should get together.”
How could he even say the words? “Ben!” I said. “I have to see you! I’ll go crazy if I can’t see you!”
“I know,” he said. “Me, too. But we can’t risk pissing Dawn off. You’re going to be eighteen soon and out of high school. Then it won’t matter so much. So let’s just—”
“Couldn’t we…We have swim practice Saturday. Wouldn’t it seem normal to get together afterward like we used to? You know, to talk about the team? Dawn couldn’t make a federal case about that.”
He waited a second, then said, “Dawn’s coming to practice Saturday.”
“What?” I stood up. “Why?”
“She said she misses watching the kids, but I’m sure it’s to keep an eye on us. So we have to act cool, Maggie, all right?”
“Why didn’t you tell her she can’t come?”
“Because I’m trying to protect us.” I thought he sounded a little fed up with me. “Not only could she tell your mother, but Marcus or the rec center staff or the parents of the kids we work with. Let me deal with her, okay? I know her better than you do. We just need to keep our noses clean for a while. Till you graduate.”
“That’s over a month away!”
“It’ll fly by, angel.”
“How can you sound so calm?”
“I’m not. It’s just that I’ve had twenty-four hours to think of the best thing to do. It’s fresh news to you.”
I lowered myself to the pier and lay down on my back. It was too cloudy to see the stars. My eyes were full of tears, anyway. The thing was, I knew he was right. I sucked at being patient, but I could wait another month to have a lifetime with him.
“Maggie? You still there?”
“I think…” A plan was taking shape in my mind. “I think I won’t live on campus next year,” I said. “I’ll commute. Maybe I could find a roommate here on the island and not have to live at home.”
“What are you talking about? You’ve always planned to live on campus.”
“I don’t want to be that far from you.”
“It’s only forty-five minutes.”
“That’s too far.” I wiped tears off my cheeks with my fingers.
“I think you should live on campus. It’d be a good experience for you.”
“Don’t you want me to be closer?”
“Of course. But I’ll visit you there all the time, if you’re not too embarrassed to be seen with an ol’ man.”
I smiled. “No way.” I loved the idea of finally being able to show him off in public.
“Don’t decide now, Maggie,” he said. “I think it’d be good for you, though. You know. Get that whole college experience.”
If it was him going away to college with me staying on Topsail, I wouldn’t want him to live on campus. How could he just let me go that easily? I thought how it felt to rest my head on his chest. How content I felt when he wrapped his arms around me.
“Ben?”
“I’m here.”
“Can we…maybe in a week…can we find someplace to be together. Just for a while? The beach at night or someplace? No one will kno
w. Please?”
He was quiet and I tightened every muscle in my body, waiting for his answer.
“All right,” he said. “I’d better get off now.”
“I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I clicked off my phone, and lay there on the pier until I fell asleep, hanging on to his “love you, too” by my fingertips.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Laurel
I HUNG UP THE PHONE, THEN RACED ACROSS campus from the elementary school to the high school. I was breathless and perspiring by the time I arrived in the main office.
“In there.” The secretary nodded toward the room used for meetings. The door was slightly ajar and I pushed it open without knocking. Flip Cates sat at the long table, and although Flip was not a large man, he dwarfed Andy sitting across from him. Andy leaped up from his chair and ran into my arms, sobbing.
“It’s okay, sweetie.” I rocked him back and forth like I did when he was little. “Don’t be scared. It’s going to be all right.” Was it? Could Andy feel how my own body trembled beneath his arms?
Flip had left a message on my cell that they had a petition requesting Andy be taken into custody. Now I looked at him over Andy’s head. “Why?” I asked.
“His pants and shoes had traces of accelerant on them,” he said. “I’m sorry, Laurel.”
The lighter. “Maybe he spilled lighter fluid when he—”
Flip shook his head. “It’s gasoline and diesel.”
Was that what I’d smelled on his shoes? It couldn’t have been. “That can’t be, Flip!” Andy had settled into my arms as if he planned to stay there forever. “It’s got to be a mistake. A conspiracy or something.” I grasped at straws as my heart lost its rhythm behind my breastbone. “This is completely impossible!”
“I know you’re upset, Laur—”
“Flip! You know this child.” I hugged Andy even closer to my body. Tears slid down my cheeks that I didn’t want him to see. “You’ve known him nearly all his life! Please! At least tell me you think this is some kind of crazy mistake!”
I supposed there was some sympathy in Flip’s eyes, but I was blind to it at that moment.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but I need to take him to the juvenile detention center in Castle Hayne. You can follow in your car or ride with him in mine.”
“With him,” I said. “I’m not letting him out of my sight.”
I called Marcus’s cell from the back of Flip’s cruiser.
“Already on my way,” Marcus said. “I just heard.”
“I don’t know what’s going on, Marcus.” I tried to keep my voice even for Andy’s sake. I’d scared him with my hysterics at the high school. Now he shivered next to me, his body close to mine. I hadn’t seen him this frightened since he was a little boy.
“Call his lawyer,” Marcus said. “I’ll see you there.”
“Is he going to shoot us?” Andy whispered to me when I shut my phone.
“Who?” I asked. “Flip? No, of course not. No one’s going to shoot us.”
At the detention center, the thirty-something, balding intake officer had me fill out a form while he talked to Flip in legalese. Then he fingerprinted Andy, because of “the serious nature of the crime.”
Marcus arrived just as another uniformed officer handed Andy a navy-blue jumpsuit and said to follow him. I suddenly understood that they meant to keep him there.
“He can’t stay here!” I said to the intake officer as Marcus came to stand at my side. “I’ll put up bail. Just tell me how much and—”
“There is no bond in juvenile cases, ma’am,” the man said.
Marcus reached across the man’s desk to shake his hand, and I was glad he was in uniform. “I’m Marcus Lockwood,” he said. “The boy’s uncle.”
“You the fire marshal in Surf City?”
Marcus nodded.
“What do you mean, no bond?” I asked.
“He’ll have a secure custody hearing within five days and the judge will decide if he waits here until his trial or if he can be released to home. Given the serious nature of the crime, though, I imagine he’ll be staying here.”
“Five days!” I said. “I won’t let him stay here a single night!” I grabbed Marcus’s arm, knowing I was digging my nails into his flesh but unable to stop myself.
“Andy has special needs,” Marcus said. “He won’t do well in detention.”
“Mrs. Lockwood here’s explained about his special needs,” the officer said.
“I didn’t realize you expected him to actually stay here when I told you, though!” I said.
“What did you think the word ‘detention’ means, ma’am?” he asked.
“She didn’t know it meant overnight,” Marcus said with more calm than I felt. “He’s never stayed away from home overnight.”
“I’ll recommend a hearing be scheduled as quick as possible,” the officer said.
“Today,” I said. “Please. It needs to be today.”
“Ma’am, it’s already three o’clock. This is not considered an emergency case. However, one thing you may not have thought of is that when this gets out, the community is going to be mighty angry. It may be best your boy remain here for his own safety, and the judge will take that into account.”
“There’s no way it would be best for him to stay here!”
“She’s right,” Marcus said to the officer. “Aim for tomorrow.”
Andy returned to the room in a navy jumpsuit that was too big on him and blue flip-flops. The skin around his eyes was puffy and red, but he no longer looked terrified. More like defeated. I drew choppy breaths through my mouth, trying to keep from crying. That would only scare him more.
Marcus hugged him, and I wanted to pull him into my arms again, but knew I’d fall apart if I did. Andy didn’t say a word. It wasn’t like him to be so quiet and I worried about what the other officer might have said—or worse, done—to him.
“Andy,” I managed to say, “please don’t worry, sweetie. We’re going to get this all straightened out.”
“Y’all can sit down again,” the intake officer said, although he remained standing himself. “I need to make a copy of the petition. We’ll be sending it along to your attorney, ma’am.”
We sat down on the hard wooden chairs as he left the room.
“The man said I have to stay here.” Andy looked at Marcus.
“For a couple days,” Marcus said. “It’ll be all right. Your mom has an attorney…a lawyer. He’ll come talk to you.”
“His name’s Mr. Shartell, Andy.” My voice sounded remarkably calm given how hysterically I was screaming inside. “He’s on your side, sweetie, so you don’t have to be afraid to tell him the truth when he comes, all right?”
“I don’t want to stay here.” He hadn’t heard a word I’d said.
I was sure of it. I wondered if Marcus caught the tremor in his chin. “I know,” I said.
“I know you don’t. And we’ll get you out as soon as we can.” Over Andy’s head, I mouthed the words to Marcus, I can’t leave him here!
Marcus reached across the back of Andy’s chair to squeeze my shoulder.
Andy looked at Marcus again. “I don’t understand, Uncle Marcus,” he said. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Marcus moved his hand from my shoulder to Andy’s, a small smile of encouragement on his lips. “I know, son,” he said.
I stared at Marcus. I’d never heard him call Andy “son” before. Never. That was the way I’d always wanted it. But now, I wanted to hear him say that word again and again and again.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Marcus
1992
JAMIE DIDN’T LET ME SEE LAUREL TILL SHE’D been in rehab three months. Not that I didn’t try to visit her before that. Got turned away by the sentry at the front desk. “Only her husband and people he authorizes can visit her,” I was told. Apparently, I wasn’t one of those people. Jamie said I’d “enabled” her drinking
. Give me a break. Laurel was no alcoholic and I didn’t believe there was a damn thing wrong with her baby. Jamie and the hospital and Protective Services had made a fuss about nothing. “You can see her,” Jamie finally told me one afternoon at The Sea Tender. “She’s strong enough now.”
“She’s got to be ‘strong’ to see me?” I was pissed.
“Yeah, exactly. She does.”
“Go fuck yourself,” I said.
Jamie closed his eyes the way he did when he was angry and trying to control it, like he was silently counting to ten. I hated when he did that. Hated his self-control.
“You know.” He opened his eyes again. “I have a two-year-old daughter in the next room. Maybe she’s napping, but maybe not, and I don’t appreciate you using that language in her presence.”
“You self-righteous—”
“Do you want to see her or not?” he interrupted me. “Because I can still tell them not to let you in.”
“Yes, I want to see her!”
“Then shut up. And when you go there, go sober.”
I hardly recognized her as she walked toward me in the rehab lobby. She filled out her jeans again—I hadn’t realized how much weight she’d lost the past couple of years—and she wore a red V-neck sweater, a blast of color beneath her dark hair. She smiled at me as she came closer. I hugged her hard, not wanting to let go, because she’d see the tears in my eyes. I’d forgotten what the real Laurel looked like. Forgotten the smile. The light in her eyes.
I finally released her. “You look unbelievable,” I said.
She knew it. Knew she gave off a glow. “It’s good to see you, Marcus,” she said. “Come on. Let’s go to the lounge where we can talk.” Taking my arm, she guided me through a maze of hallways until we reached a small room filled with armchairs. We were the only people there. We sat in a couple of chairs by the windows.
Kicking off her shoes, she lifted her feet onto the chair and hugged her knees.
“How are you?” she asked.
“I’m okay,” I answered. “But I want to know about you. What’s it been like to be locked up in here?”