Chapter 53
I walk Sam off the field, clutching him tightly to my side. The police officer who stayed with him in the clearing escorts us.
Jess runs out of the house toward us. Her hair looks strange, matted and tangled, and it takes me a second to remember that she was taking a shower when I ran after Allison and Sam. She must have realized something was wrong, maybe heard the sirens, before she even got to a comb.
Alderson and a police officer I don’t recognize trail her. Jess frantically grabs Sam and pulls him in.
She’s crying. But they’re tears of sheer relief to have Sam safely in her arms. She strokes the back of his head, tightens her other arm around him.
When she looks up at me, she holds out an arm and pulls me in, too.
“Thank you,” she says to me.
“For what?” I say. My mouth feels numb, like it’s not moving. The smell of her flowery shampoo fills my nose.
Other sirens blare. Other emergency responders still arriving.
“For saving him,” she says. “He told me”—she lifts her chin to Alderson—“he said Greene told him you kept Sam safe out there. I can’t believe it was Allison. All this time, it was her? How did you know?” she asks. “Did you talk to Vivian about her brother? Come across something?”
I tell Jess about Leon’s keys, such a small thing, but sometimes a little detail is the key to solving a crime. In this case, literal keys.
“Then how did she know about Vivian? Cros, I swear I didn’t tell her.”
I want to give her all the details, but my head feels thick, and I start to tremble.
Jess’s voice seems far away, but I hold tight.
I keep inhaling the scent of her freshly shampooed hair like it’s a lifeline.
I don’t want to let go of her or Sam. The three of us continue to stand in the dried and snarled grass of her field beside her house, wrapped in one another’s arms.
My shakes grow more intense, uncontrollable.
Jess pulls away and looks at me. “Oh my God, you poor thing.” She very gently nudges my chin to the side and studies the gash on my cheekbone from where I slammed it into the rock.
Before she can say anything else, Alderson places a hand on my shoulder.
When I turn to him, he points to the newly arrived paramedics.
Within short order, Jess’s place and the woods and the fields swarm with law enforcement from the county sheriff’s office and from all police departments in the valley, and emergency response units. Greene called it in as soon as she started running after Sam.
Sam and Jess are now inside the house with a paramedic.
A different EMT inspects my pupils out beside an ambulance and asks me questions to determine whether I’ve gone into shock before they’ll let me go see Sam and Jess again.
“State your name for me, please. Do you know today’s date? Do you know where you are?”
Other than the after-shakes still possessing my body, the cut on my face, some red welts that will end up as bruises, and very sore muscles from my tussle with Allison, I’m okay.
Greene looks exhausted, dumbfounded. It’s status quo for Alderson: his usual sweet smile, though he’s been very concerned for Greene and the tough decision she made.
I’m surprised at how comforting it is to have them by me. I slow-blink, and when I open my eyes, they’re full of tears. When I swipe them away, I see Allison being carried out on a gurney. In a bag. The cold pit in my stomach grows larger.
Greene puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” I try to sound collected, but I can hear the strain in it through the thickening lump in my throat.
I press my lips together to quell the deep unease.
I look down at my hands and notice how, strangely, they’re not quivering.
I stare at them with interest and try to shove away the sense that this outcome is not right.
That justice, once again, has not been served and that perhaps I should be the one crumpled in Jess’s neighbor’s field.