Read Keep Quiet Page 19


  “Mom, I know,” Ryan said hoarsely, staring at the ground, and Moose beat his tail on the bed at the sound.

  “He knows,” Jake added, hugging Ryan closer and jostling him just the slightest, to signal that they were about to end the conversation. “Pam, I gave him that lecture, times ten. You don’t have to worry about that. I worked him over, and he gets it. Really.”

  “Good.” Pam cocked her head, trying to see Ryan’s face. “Ryan? Tell me that your dad’s right and I don’t have to worry about it. Tell me that you’ll always tell me the truth and that you’ll do the right thing, no matter what anybody else says is right. Only you know what’s right, and you have to answer for that, always.”

  Ryan kept his head down. Moose thumped his tail on the bed.

  Jake jostled Ryan again, feeling the tension build in his son. “He knows.”

  “Jake, don’t answer for him. I’d like to hear him tell me himself.” Pam frowned, her head still cocked as she tried to see Ryan’s face. “Ryan?”

  “Ryan, answer your mom.” Jake looked over, then held his breath.

  Ryan looked up at Pam, his eyes filmed and his expression agonized. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “Mom, I killed Kathleen Lindstrom on Pike Road.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  The next few hours were pure agony, and if Jake expected the truth to be cathartic, it didn’t turn out that way. Ryan became too upset to tell the story, and Jake took over and told her every detail, including their meeting with the lawyer Morris Hubbard, the blackmailer texts, opening of the line of credit to pay the blackmail, the transfer to be delivered by eleven o’clock, his phone conversation with Andrew Voloshin, and his suspicion that Voloshin had been stalking Kathleen Lindstrom. Pam had listened in horrified silence, easing herself into Ryan’s wooden desk chair, still wrapped in the cocoon of her trenchcoat. She kept her pumps on her feet, like a soldier who wanted to die with his boots on. She had said nothing except to ask questions, and Jake felt more and more tense, waiting for the proverbial sword to fall.

  “So that’s it,” Jake said, when he had finished. “I’m sorry, honey. I feel horrible about this, and so does Ryan. You know that, you can see that. And I’m so sorry for what this does to you, that it puts you in an awful, awful position—”

  “Hold on a second.” Pam raised a hand, weakly, and her voice was pained. “I’m trying to understand how the man I married would leave a young girl dead on the road.”

  Jake took it on the chin. “It’s like I explained, honey. I made the best decision I could at the time. I only had a second, I had to react. I’ve replayed it over and over, I know it was wrong. I didn’t know what to do, I just reacted, to protect Ryan.”

  “Mom.” Ryan sniffled, sitting next to Jake on the bed. “He thought he was helping me, and he was. He was about to call 911 when I told him about the weed. He woulda called if I hadn’t smoked up. It’s not his fault, it’s mine.”

  Jake patted Ryan’s leg, touched. “It’s okay, I can take it. Your mom is right, it was a terrible decision. I knew it was when I made it, the moment I made it.”

  Ryan shook his head, distraught. “But Dad, would you make it differently if you had to do over again? You saved us both from prison.” He whipped around to Pam, who was slumped sideways in his desk chair, leaning on his desk. Behind her was a lineup of plastic South Park figurines and a Funny or Die poster of Will Ferrell. “Mom, what would you have done? Don’t be a judge, be a person.”

  “I’m not being a judge,” Pam shot back, shaking her head.

  “Then what would you have done, if you were Dad?” Ryan raised his voice, his nose still stuffy from crying, so he sounded oddly like himself as a young boy. “Let’s say you were the one that night on Pike Road. Would you have called the cops and sent me to jail?”

  “I never would’ve been in that position!” Pam shouted, suddenly. “I never would’ve let you drive!”

  “Mom, I can get my license in a month. What difference does it make? It’s arbitrary!”

  Pam’s eyes flashed with anger. “All time limits are arbitrary, but that doesn’t mean they’re not limits. The law is made up of time limits. I’ve thrown people out of court because they missed a month-long time limit to file an appeal. And when you get older, try to file your tax return on April 16! It’s not acceptable under the law. You shouldn’t have been driving, and your father shouldn’t have let you drive. He admitted as much. This is all his fault!”

  “Agree, I agree.” Jake nodded, dry-mouthed. Pam sounded so angry that she’d passed through the heat of that emotion into a cooler disgust, or worse, disrespect. He wondered if they’d be able to keep their marriage together, but then again, after she went to the police, he’d be in prison and they wouldn’t be a family anymore, anyway.

  “No, Dad! Don’t let her put it on you! She’s acting like a judge, and nobody has a right to judge us, even her! Nobody was there but us! Nobody knows what it was like but us!”

  “Ryan, are you crazy?” Pam rose, her eyes flashing with anger. “What you did was unlawful and morally wrong. You should know that, and so should your father. I fault him more than you. He’s the adult. He’s the one who’s culpable, not you—”

  “Mom, no!” Ryan shouted at her, and Jake put a restraining hand on Ryan’s arm, because he could see the hurt cross Pam’s face. She’d wanted father and son to become closer, but not allied against her, especially in these circumstances.

  Pam faced Ryan, agitated. “Ryan, you’re naïve. You don’t know what you’re talking about. The fact is, the law judges you. A court will judge you. A judge will judge you. I’m just the sneak preview.”

  Ryan threw up his hands. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know that I’m sending my own father to jail? That I’m going to jail? But right now I don’t need a judge, I need a mother.”

  Pam gasped, then shut her mouth, stricken. Her fair skin looked suddenly tinged with pink, as if she’d been slapped in the face. Ryan was watching her, his eyes glistening, and before Jake could realize what was happening, Pam had come forward and opened her arms to her son, and Ryan had gotten off the bed to meet her.

  “I’m so sorry, Mom. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I feel so bad about everything, and about her. Everybody at school is so upset, they have grief counselors and everything—”

  “I understand, I’m here. No matter what, I’m here for you and I love you.” Pam held him close even though she was so much shorter, and Ryan found a way to lean his head sideways on top of hers. She hugged him, then rocked him, just the slightest. “We’ll figure this out together.”

  “Just don’t blame Dad. It’s not his fault, please.”

  “Okay, enough fighting for now.” Pam released Ryan from her embrace, walked him over to the foot of the bed, and sat down beside him, putting her arm around him.

  Jake caught Pam’s eye, and he knew his wife well enough to know that she was only tabling the discussion. She hadn’t forgiven him. She would never forgive him. She would blame him always, and he deserved it. He would blame himself forever, too.

  Pam sighed heavily. “Well. I know what we have to do next, like it or not.”

  Jake looked past Ryan to Pam. “Pam, listen, please. I know you want to go to the police, but let me just explain why we shouldn’t.”

  “Before we get to that, hold on.” Pam held up a hand, without meeting Jake’s eye. “I know a way to make this easier, immediately. First I’m going to withdraw my name from consideration for the judgeship.”

  Ryan moaned. “Mom, no. I’ll get my act together when the FBI talks to us, I promise. I can do it. I’ll just answer the questions. I know how to put it out of my mind, if I have to.”

  Jake realized Pam was saying that because she’d never get nominated or appointed, after he and Jake had been convicted. “Pam, please, don’t withdraw. Don’t give up. We can get through the investigation. The line of credit will be paid back by next quarter, if not next month. Voloshin wi
ll be paid off, which buys me some time to think about how I will explain the transaction later.”

  Pam shook her head, her lips pursed. “No, it’s all right, I’m fine with it. We have bigger problems right now.”

  “Mom—”

  “Pam, please. Why?”

  “It’s too much to deal with right now. Enough said.” Pam waved them both into silence, her expression stern. “We’re in a crisis, and we have to get through it. Jake, call off the line of credit, or take it back, or do whatever you have to do. Will you do that, first thing tomorrow morning, or better yet, call Harold tonight?” Pam spoke without even looking at him. “Tell me you’ll do that for me. It’s the very least you can do.”

  “I will,” Jake agreed, reluctantly. “But Pam, as for what to do about going to the police, just hear me out—”

  “No, my mind is made up,” Pam said firmly.

  “Listen,” Jake said anyway. “I hate keeping this secret, and I hate that Ryan has to keep it, too. I know you’re a judge and you believe in the law. I know that.” Jake tried to make his argument as logically and rationally as possible, as if he were a litigant before her bench. “But Hubbard was right on the legalities, wasn’t he? If you go to the police and tell them the truth, Ryan will be convicted of vehicular homicide and sent to a juvenile detention center. No college, no basketball, no future. Even if you’re mad at me, if you go to the police, you’ll be punishing him. Neither of us wants that.”

  “Mom, here’s what I think,” Ryan started to say, but Pam cut him off with a chop.

  “Hush. I don’t want to know what you think, because I don’t want you to have any responsibility in this. This situation wasn’t created by you, and you’re not going to weigh in on it, one way or the other.”

  “Mom, no,” Ryan shot back. “That’s treating me like a baby.”

  “Oh please.” Pam waved him off. “That crap may work with your father, but he didn’t give birth to you. You may think you’re large and in charge, but I see through that. You may not be a baby, but you’re still a kid. You leave wet towels on the bed. You don’t know how to fill out a check. You’d wear clothes with mold if I let you. I’m not going to let you have a say in decisions that are this important. I wouldn’t let you make a decision about whether or not to go to college, would I? You’re going to college, whether you like it or not, because that’s what’s best for you. So I’m not going to let you make a decision about whether or not to go to prison. It’s simply not your decision. It’s a decision I make for you. Because I’m your mother.”

  Jake saw his opening. “But, Pam, what if we disagree? You shouldn’t trump me. I’m his father, and I have an equal say. I will not stand by and see him go to prison for this. Not for something that was my doing.”

  Pam met Jake’s eye, for the first time, but there was no love there, only controlled fury. “Jake, at this point, you’re right. We have no choice now. You made sure of that when you left the scene. You turned an accident into a crime.”

  “I know, I’m sorry, but—”

  “So Jake, you pay that blackmailer from our savings or money market. I’m not going to the police, and my son isn’t going to jail.”

  Jake couldn’t believe his ears.

  “This is a secret we’re going to keep, as a family.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Jake went into his home office while Ryan took a shower and Pam escaped to her office down the hall, to make the phone calls that would end her becoming a federal judge. He flopped miserably into his desk chair and buried his face in his hands. He couldn’t think, he could only feel, and what he felt was abject misery. He didn’t see any way out of the situation, of his own making. He had wanted Pam to agree to keep their secret, and he’d gotten what he wished for, but it was only the lesser of two evils. He felt a creeping dread that it had only increased the pressure on all of them, tying their family together in a corrupt bargain, each one tethered to the other in a way that doomed them not to survive, but to sink.

  Jake straightened up and tried to shake it off. He could hear Pam talking through their common wall, but he couldn’t make out the words she was saying, and he felt awful for her. She’d stormed out of Ryan’s room right after she announced her decision, and he hadn’t had a chance to talk to her alone or to say how sorry he was, again. He knew she’d unload on him later, saying all the things she couldn’t say in front of Ryan, and he hated being betwixt and between, living in that hell reserved for married people, who had to postpone their fights for not-in-front-of-the-kids. But no couples fought about things like this, ever.

  Jake tried to focus and make himself do things, so he called Harold and instructed him to stop the line of credit and wire the $250K from their money market and savings account. Harold agreed, no questions asked, of course. Then Jake went online, plugged Andrew Voloshin into the search engine, and tried to find out more about him, but couldn’t. Voloshin wasn’t on Facebook or any of the other social-networking sites and belonged to no professional organizations or alumni groups. Jake felt too distracted to keep looking, much less to answer any emails from work, and when he heard Pam finally get off the phone, he rose, left his office, and went down the hall to hers, knocking gently on the door.

  “Pam, can I come in?”

  “Yes,” she answered, and Jake opened the door, not surprised to see her teary-eyed at her desk. Her eyes were puffy, her hair undone, and she held a crumpled Kleenex in her hand. She slumped in her chair, framed by the soft pink walls and the red-and-pink toile curtains. All the feminine appointments of her office reminded him there was still a girl inside his wife, and he knew her heart was broken.

  “I’m so sorry, honey.” Jake started to come around the desk, but Pam stopped him with a hand, her soft features hardening.

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  “I’m sorry, I really am.” Jake stopped in front of her desk. “Are you okay?”

  “Do I look okay?” Pam tossed the Kleenex in the wastebasket.

  “What did you tell them?”

  “That I wanted to spend more time with my family.” Pam chuckled, but it was without mirth. “I don’t know how you could do it, Jake, I really don’t. You’ve ruined everything, you know. You’ve ruined our lives. Above all, you’ve ruined Ryan’s life. He’s never going to be the same, ever. This secret, it will ruin him.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jake said again, because she was right and it was all he could say.

  “It’s such a joke,” Pam said, disgusted without batting an eye, though she never cursed. “You finally decide to pay attention to your family. You want to step back in and reestablish a relationship with your own son, your only son. So I say, like an idiot, go pick him up at the movie. And what do you do? You decide it would be a great idea if he drove the car!” Pam raised her voice, throwing up her hands. “What a great decision! Wasn’t that a great decision? Wasn’t that one of your greatest, all-time decisions ever?”

  Jake didn’t reply. She needed to blow off steam, and he deserved every word.

  “Fun Dad evidently is the last one to know that a father is supposed to be a parent, not a friend. It’s Parenting 101, but you didn’t get the memo. It’s every magazine article, or on every Dr. Phil or Oprah episode ever.” Pam scoffed. “That’s right, she went off the air, so it’s her fault. It’s Oprah’s fault! Because it’s not your fault, right, Jake? It can’t be! I have a son blaming himself, but really it’s your fault.”

  “I admit it’s my fault. I know it’s my fault.”

  “I know that, too, but that doesn’t do us any good, because Ryan doesn’t know it’s true. Ryan was properly brought up, by me I might add, which means that he has a conscience. He knows the difference between right and wrong, as do I. Only you don’t know the difference between right and wrong.”

  Jake didn’t say anything. She was right, and there was nothing to say.

  “You’ll never convince him of anything else, ever,” Pam said, louder. “Even though
the law would apportion the lion’s share of the guilt to you, he’ll still feel guilty. And now he feels guilty because you would be the one to go to jail and not him. The kid can’t win!”

  “I tried to explain it to him—”

  “I don’t know who you are, frankly!” Pam jumped to her feet. “You leave a young girl on the road, dead? You crash your own car? You burn evidence? You lie to the police? You lie to Amy, and to Harold? You lie to me!” Pam snorted. “What a bunch of bull! You made me feel bad because I questioned you with Ryan! You made me feel like I was hurting your getting close to him! You backed me down, you manipulated me, and you lied to me every step of the way! I didn’t raise a liar, but I sure as hell married one!”

  “Pam, I know, I’m sorry—” Jake said, then fell abruptly silent when the door opened and Ryan was standing there, his hair wet from the shower, dressed in his gray T-shirt and sweats.

  “Mom.” Ryan stood in the threshold, his hand on the doorknob. His eyes were dry, and his forehead smooth and untroubled under bangs so wet they dripped on his shoulders, like raindrops. “You need to let it go now. Dad said he was sorry, and you need to get off his back.”

  Jake’s mouth went dry. He knew Ryan was trying to help, but it would only upset Pam more if Ryan intervened and took Jake’s side. “Ryan, it’s okay—”

  “Ryan, please, go.” Pam waved him out, agitated. “This is between your father and me. I’m sorry if you heard, but this is between us.”

  “I disagree.” Ryan looked from her to Jake, oddly calm. “You were talking about the hit-and-run, and that’s not just between you guys.”

  “Ryan, I—” Jake started to say, but Pam cut him off with a chop of her hand.

  “Jake, why don’t you let me answer our son? Ryan was speaking to me and questioning what I was doing, and he deserves an answer from me, not you.”