Jason did not move, staring down his brother. Sonya sat at the couch, watching them. She never had a sibling to fight with, and did not think she was missing much, although she had spent most of her life playing alone, doing solitary activities such as drawing, reading, or taking pictures. She could not have a dog because Cal was allergic, her cameras becoming her pets; one replacing another, photo albums full of her childish attempts at capturing life.
If she had her camera, she would take a photo of Jack and Jason in this moment; one standing over the other, trying to establish dominance. Jack continued to look at the screen, cars in a chase, a drug dealer in pursuit of a crafty prostitute who had stolen his money. She was wearing a skimpy halter top, stuffed cleavage almost falling out.
“Give me a minute,” Jack said. “I’ll finish this...”
Jason stayed in place, making sure Jack kept his word. In a few minutes, the hooker was shot dead, and Jason had the PlayStation.
Jason turned to Sonya. “Wanna play?”
*****
The boys had fallen asleep before Barb returned home. She was not alone, entering the house with a broad-shouldered, long-haired man. He was younger than Barb, wearing jeans and a leather vest over a T-shirt. The skull grinned on the back of the vest.
Sonya had her phone in hand, ready to call Aron. She noticed how Barb stumbled a bit, her cheeks pink.
She pointed at her friend. “This is Shawn...”
Sonya nodded a hello while waiting for Aron to pick up. “Hello? Barb’s home...”
She had no interest in witnessing Barb’s drunken conquest. Shawn was handsome, in his twenties, hair light brown and thick, blue eyes watching as Barb sauntered out of the kitchen. His nose was long, lips small. He gave Sonya a shy smile.
She closed her phone, putting her jacket back on.
“She needed a ride,” he said.
“I can see why.”
“Barb doesn’t cut loose very often, but she did tonight.”
Barb came back in carrying a paper bag, doing a side to side dance, a big grin on her face. She gave Shawn the bag and he extracted two twenties from his wallet. Barb took the money, stuffing the bills in her pocket as she maintained her balance. “I’m going right to bed...”
Shawn nodded. “You do that.”
“I don’t like my kids to see me drunk.”
Sonya suppressed a smile, relieved when her father arrived in the truck. She was going out when she heard Barb come up behind her. “I forgot to pay you, Hon.”
She handed Sonya one of the twenties. Sonya knew the amount was too much, but she took the bill. “Thanks. Good-night.”
******
Mike Winstead was on his break from the mill, reading the day’s Marine Press.
The break room was quiet that night. Mike was now on second shift after years of being on first, the only option given after the last round of lay-offs.
Mike, at fifty-nine, would have taken the early retirement package that was offered to employees at Michigan Paper Products, but he was not sure what he would do with himself if he no longer worked. He had been at the mill for over thirty years; he was asked to take a supervisor position more than once and was union steward. He could do his job tasks blindfolded, knowing every machine in the place.
His gaze fell on the article about the Ravisher. Bill Neslund lived out that way. The last time Mike visited Bill, he bought a hunting knife and a Winchester rifle. Bill had decided to sell most of his hunting supplies, although he did not make it sound as if he needed the money.
Mike, as he was talking to Bill in the grocery store, realized that Bill may not have remembered him. Mike understood that the Alzheimer’s disease would make Bill forget people and was surprised when Bill suddenly recalled the rifle as Mike was leaving the store. They proceeded to have a fifteen minute conversation outside, with Aron catching up with them, holding the bags.
Later, when Mike was dropping Trey off at his house, he recalled loaning Trey the clipped-point hunting knife, and asked his son about it.
“You want it back?” Trey asked.
“No, that’s okay. You can hang on to it for awhile.”
Mike read the sidebar article next to the feature. He shook his head, sipping his coffee. The first girl, Jessica Holden, lived near the Whispering Pines subdivision. Trey had worked with the construction crew that built those new houses. Sales had been disappointing, with some of the houses already in foreclosure.
Trey, while eating dinner with Mike at Burger King one evening, told his father about a woman who had moved into Whispering Pines with her young daughter last year. Only a few of the houses were inhabited then, and the crew was building another house close to the single mother’s. A guy on the crew was caught peeping in the woman’s bedroom window.
“The guy must be lonely or gets off sneaking a peek,” Mike answered.
“He was married,” Trey said.
Mike sprinkled salt from a packet over his French fries. “He won’t be anymore.”
“She would be that mad?”
“She wouldn’t be able to trust him again.”
“Maybe she knew all along, but didn’t care.”
“Some people are good at keeping secrets,” Mike said.
Mike pushed the newspaper away. He went back to work, but was anxious and distracted the rest of the night. When he came home, he searched his medicine cabinet for the sedative his doctor prescribed last year.
He took one tablet, his dreams strange. Trey’s face was covered in green paint, the both of them in Trey’s red truck. He is driving too fast as they pass Bill’s house. Mike sees Trey’s mother Judy on the side of the road. Trey looks behind him, putting the car in reverse, speeding backwards towards Judy.
Mike, after he forced himself awake, forgot about his dream. He had told Trey that some people were good secret-keepers, and Mike was one of them. He protected Trey from the day he was born; he had been a good father, and he knew his son better than anyone.
*****
Sonya, before getting ready for bed, returned to the Blue and White on her lap-top at the kitchen table.
She was scrolling through the entries from the last week, including the commentary about Adam Moore, which now included a photo. Sonya’s gaze rested on the two boys in the image; one in focus, the other in the background.
Adam’s hair was cut very short, almost bald. His skin was peppered with acne on the cheeks and chin. In a T-shirt and jeans, he was smiling. He seemed to Sonya like the type of quiet boy who would hang out with a more dominant kid in a crowd, unnoticed, with no one aware of the rage inside.
Aron came out to the kitchen, and Sonya found him standing behind her.
“Adam Moore?” he asked.
She nodded, pulling her eyes away from the screen. “Do you remember him from North Marine?”
“How could I forget? He told the counselor he wanted to kill his mother. The year before, he got all As with me in English, but I had to flunk him in Speech the next, only because he was too shy to speak in front of the class. The other kids used to call him Frankenstein because he was tall and clumsy. He dropped out that year.”
“Why did he hate his mother?”
“She was strict, and I think he resented her because she favored his sister more. The divorce made it worse. Some things came out later about her being verbally abusive, a lot of put-downs. What happened with Adam was tragic.”
“Did it make you want to quit teaching?” Sonya asked.
He sighed. He had brushed his teeth, she could smell the minty scent on his breath. “The teachers became split down the middle. Some viewed Adam with no pity, they thought he should be tried as an adult, but these teachers never had Adam in their classroom. Some of his former teachers thought he was mentally ill, and I was one of them. His mother’s abuse may have made him snap, but that wouldn’t explain why he also killed his little sister...”
“Wher
e do you think he is now?”
“He was tried as a juvenile, but I think he’s still locked away.”
“Do you miss teaching, Dad?”
“Not in a long time. I just got burned out, Honey. The divorce didn’t help, and Carolyn also quit. Teaching is the kind of profession that punishes the educators for caring, but they also get punished for not caring enough. For me, the situation became ridiculous and stressful, and I started feeling sick while driving to school. I found myself applying for other jobs, and something else came along.”
“Mom was threatened by a student,” Sonya said.
“She was stalked. Some crazy kid who didn’t like the grade she gave him. A kid slashed the tires on my car after I gave him an F.”
Sonya knew this would be a good time to change the subject before Aron left the kitchen. “Did you ever meet Barb’s husband?”
“No. Bill knew Wayne better.”
“How did he die?”
“A motorcycle accident, I think. You could ask Bill.”
“Does Uncle Bill ever...share with other people in the neighborhood?”
“Sometimes.”
“With Barb?”
“Probably. I wouldn’t be surprised. Why?”
“Did Uncle Bill ever know any of the other Blue Diamonds?”
“Bill is very small-time compared to those guys. But most of them were sent to prison. The rest are old or sick.”
“Was Wayne a drug dealer?”
“I don’t know. Bill told me that he was wild when he was younger, but he changed after the baby died.”
“It’s strange how they lost a child, but later had four sons all at once.”
“Life is strange. Unpredictable.” Aron’s eyes moved back to the computer screen. He shook his head. “I can’t go back to teaching...”
Chapter Nine
Robin Jones’s quick gaze took in the e-mail on Piper’s lap-top screen. Piper had been acting more secretive lately, and now Robin knew why. When she finished reading most of Justine’s ranting, she shut the computer.
Piper came downstairs minutes later, her unzipped backpack dangling from her hand. She approached the counter, placing the pack next to the MacBook.
“I told you never to contact her again,” Robin said.
Piper could feel her cheeks flare red before she looked up. “She won’t stop, Mom.”
“Don’t encourage her.”
“I’m not. I just don’t know what to do.”
“I’ll speak to someone at Haven Rest.”
“Don’t. Please.”
“Why not? She’s a lunatic.”
“She’ll get bored and go away. Maybe they took her off her meds or something.”
“She will never get bored with you, Piper. You were the closest she had to a best friend. And partner.”
“I was never with her—”
“But you knew what she was going to do that day and you didn‘t tell anyone.”
Piper sighed. “I don’t want to argue about it, okay? I haven’t responded to any of her e-mails, and I don’t want to.”
Robin also did not want to argue further, but the e-mail had been open, so Piper was taking the time to read Justine’s messages. Robin finished her coffee and drove Piper to school in silence. Piper knew her mother would be checking her computer from now on, so whatever new e-mails Justine sent would have to be forwarded to Bobby before being deleted. She could also give Justine a different e-mail address.
She was still thinking of different ways to outwit her mother when she heard her cell phone ring in the pocket of her short leather jacket. “Hello?”
“Piper? This is Delia, Bobby’s mother. He won’t be coming to school today...”
*****
Sonya was standing at her bus stop when the Ford truck passed her, Trey at the wheel, Kyle next to him. He turned in at Barb’s driveway, the truck‘s brake lights glowing in the morning mist.
Sonya was putting her hand to her mouth to suppress a yawn when she heard her cell phone ring in her backpack. She had to take the pack off and unzip it before retrieving the phone after several rings. “Hello?”
“Sonya? It’s Piper. Rick hurt Bobby; he’s at the hospital with broken fingers. Rick’s been arrested, but their mom says she won’t bail him out.”
“Wasn’t he on his meds?” Sonya asked.
“That’s what Bobby told me, but Rick has a bad temper, and he likes to bully Bobby, especially when they’re alone together. Rick doesn’t like that Bobby’s gay, but —”
Sonya heard Robin’s voice in the background, but could not make out her words.
“We’re coming up to the school now,” Piper said. “I’ll talk to you later.”
*****
Sonya shut her locker and followed Piper down the hallway, past the office and out of the building, which was not locked down during lunch. They crossed the street off-campus to Mack’s, a convenience store.
Mack’s was a legend among East Marine students, and lunchtime brought out students from every grade, where siblings and cousins could mingle unselfconsciously and the smokers could indulge, even if they could not buy their cigarettes in the store, although the eighteen year old seniors could buy for their underaged friends.
Piper bought them sandwiches and sodas, walking to a wooded lot nearby. They passed a group of older students, and Sonya caught a glimpse of her cousin, Kaitlyn, who waved at her. Sonya waved back, to the curious glances of Kaitlyn’s friends.
“Where are we going?” Sonya asked.
“A little farther,” Piper said.
They turned past a few trees to a spot covered with a blanket of leaves. Piper opened the brown paper bag and handed Sonya a sandwich and a Dr. Pepper. “I wanted to talk in private about Bobby.”
“His brother won’t be getting out any time soon—”
“Their mom doesn’t know, Bobby never told her. I think he should, Rick deserves it.”
Sonya did not move to unwrap her sandwich. “Don’t tell me...”
“Their mom would go to work at night, and Rick would babysit. Bobby was in bed asleep, I think he said he was six years old, and Rick woke him up. He unzipped his pants and made Bobby touch him. This went on for awhile, then Rick got him to do oral sex. Finally, Bobby bit Rick in the right place and it stopped. After that, Rick only wanted to beat the crap out of him. Later, when Rick was put in therapy, he said he was molested by one of his mom’s boyfriends. He was a Blue Diamond.”
“I’ve been hearing a lot about the Blue Diamonds lately.” Sonya finally unwrapped the ham and cheese sandwich and took a bite. The bread was dry. She sipped some Dr. Pepper. “My neighbor’s dead husband was a Diamond.”
“They were a big deal in Marine once. Sort of like Robin Hood; they’d sell their drugs but donate money to the rescue mission or the Salvation Army. My mom said the Diamonds had the police departments in their back pocket in the 70s and 80s. She’s even defended a few.”
“Bobby said Rick has friends in the Blue Diamonds. Don’t you think that’s strange?”
Piper crumpled the plastic sandwich wrap between her fingers. “Probably some younger guys. The new Diamonds aren’t like the old ones, who at least could buy their own houses or bikes. The new ones are fat and lazy stoners.”
Sonya thought of Barb’s friend Shawn, who did not seem like white trash, although she was sure marijuana was in that bag. “My step-dad once said he wanted to write a book about the Diamonds.”
“My mom said the same thing.”
Sonya nodded. “Cal even knew some of them, they would tell him about whatever was going on. Those guys are all dead now.”
“Informers?”
“More like a paid source. Cal got put in jail once for not giving up his sources to the police. Mom had to bail him out, I had to go with her to the courthouse.” Sonya put her sandwich wrapping in the bag with Piper’s. “I haven’t thought about that in a long
time. Mom was so mad, she had to borrow the money from Uncle Bill.”
“The Diamonds got away with a lot for years,” Piper said. “They were nothing but dirt-bags, rapists, and killers. These girls started to disappear. My mom went to school with one of them. Her body was found at the bottom of the lake years after. The Diamonds had a branch in Florida and they used to feed girls to the alligators in the swamps.”
“I could believe that. Have you heard anything new from Jess?”
“No. She told me her cell phone was stolen when she was at the mall. This morning, Kelly told me she saw Jess talking to Todd Kemp by the library.”
“The big guy in the Hoveround?” Sonya asked.
“Todd sells meds. I don’t know where he gets the stuff, but he does his business off-campus. Methadone and Vicodin. He’s going to end up on the Blue and White someday, no matter how repulsive the other kids think he is.”
They stood for a few moments in silence. Piper was thinking about confiding in Sonya about Justine, but held back, not ready to reveal more embarrassing secrets. “Sonya, don’t tell Bobby what I said about Rick.”
“I won’t.”
“Bobby’s my best friend.”
“I understand.”
“Have you ever heard of that saying,’Secrets never serve you well?’ But confessing can make you feel just as lonely as keeping secrets.”
“Everyone has secrets, so who can judge?”
“Everyone judges, too. Especially in high school.”
“High school doesn’t last forever, Piper.”
She shrugged. “I was grocery shopping with my mom awhile back, and she saw this lady, who was very big, with her hair in one of those spiral perms. My mom said she knew that woman, they had gone to high school together. Mom said,’Her name was Heather Morris, a cheerleader. She peaked at seventeen. Her life was over at graduation. She cried that day because she already knew. I used to be jealous of her, but now she’s fat and forty, just like me.’ I’m going to be Heather Morris, pushing my cart through Wal-Mart.”
“Maybe not, Piper. You could go to college, find a career.”
“Mom’s asking me what I want to do, but I don’t know...”
“You’re only fifteen.”
“I’m not good at anything.”
“You’re good at everything.”
“Any girl with half a brain and some coordination can be a cheerleader. My grades are good and I like to read, but that’s not special.”