Chapter 4. Alice
ALICE
Alice tilted the newspaper toward the overhead light as if doing so could change what she could plainly see. The doorbell jingled at the front of the store.
Voices, one feminine.
Alice’s head snapped up. She peered between two boxes of crackers on the top shelf. Jenny was talking to the boy at the counter as she glanced around. Searching for Alice?
Alice folded the newspaper, tucked it under her arm, and walked swiftly into the restroom at the back, locking the door. She imagined Jenny searching through the aisles, wondering where Alice had gone. She didn’t have much time. She flipped open the paper again.
White Cliff Police have issued Canada-wide warrants for two suspects involved in the homicide of Isabelle Larson, 36 years old, and Robert Larson, 33 years old. The couple was found deceased in their home by a concerned employee after they failed to show up for work at their dance studio.
Police remain close-lipped about the investigation, but anonymous sources reveal that the two suffered a violent attack with multiple stab wounds. “There was blood everywhere.”
Simon Gray, 21 years old, and Jenny Perron, 18 years old, are wanted for first-degree murder. Jenny Perron is the only daughter of Isabelle, and stepdaughter to Robert.
Michael Gray, Simon’s father, claims he hasn’t seen his son in days and doesn’t know where he’s gone. He stated, “I hope he rots in hell,” when asked if he had a message for his son.
Both suspects reside in White Cliff and police believe they may have left the area together by boat.
If you see these individuals, do not approach them. They are considered armed and dangerous.
Two more black-and-white photos followed.
Alice stared at Jenny’s mother, beautiful and blond, wearing a leotard, her arms stretched gracefully overhead as she faced a line of girls in tutus standing at the barre.
A dark-haired handsome man sat at a piano, hands on the keys, and one side of his mouth quirked in an amused smile.
A line under the photo identified them as Isabelle and Robert.
The final photo showed a large white clapboard house, police cars, and a coroner’s van in the driveway. The van’s back doors were open. Serious-faced officers in uniform stood guard.
Alice found the phone number for the White Cliff police at the end of the article and repeated the sequence in her head as she tore the page from the paper, slipped it into her purse, and shoved the paper into the trash.
She washed her hands, scrubbing at the ink print smudged on her fingertips, still mentally reciting the numbers.
There would be a pay phone nearby. Maybe right outside the restroom, or outside the store. She would say she was calling family.
A tentative knock on the door.
Alice glanced at herself in the mirror. She looked normal. Maybe a little wide-eyed.
“Just a minute.”
When she came out, the girl—Jenny—was waiting in the hall.
“Sorry,” Jenny said. “Didn’t mean to rush you.”
Alice pressed her hands to her cheeks. She didn’t know where to look or what to say.
The girl was wanted by the police. She’d seen her parents be stabbed.
She might have been the one to hold the knife.
She might have been the one to hand it to Blue.
No. His name was Simon. But Alice had to remember to use their fake names.
Maybe they did it together. It had to be hard to kill two people.
Why couldn’t Alice stop these thoughts? How long had she been gaping at Jenny?
“Are you okay?” Jenny’s head was tilted, her sky-blue eyes drawing together as she studied Alice. She looked so caring, so innocent.
Alice wasn’t fooled anymore.
“Just a touch of heatstroke.” Alice brought her hands away from her face. “I’ll take a Tylenol. We should get back on the road.”
“The milk?”
Alice stared at her. What was she talking about? Jenny shifted slightly toward the coolers, and a rush of heat bloomed in Alice’s cheek.
“Yes. Of course.”
Alice marched toward the dairy section. In the reflection, she could see Jenny watching.
Maybe that was why Jenny had come in—so she could keep an eye on her.
Jenny didn’t use the bathroom, and she didn’t seem to be shopping.
Had everything been a ruse all along? Maybe it was no accident that Jenny came into the campsite showers when Alice was using them.
Alice opened the cooler, grabbed blindly for a carton of milk.
How was she going to get to a pay phone? She’d been too startled by Jenny to check if there was one in the restroom hallway. If it was outside by the entrance, she could say she needed to make a quick call to family, but Jenny might insist on waiting with her.
Jenny followed Alice to the counter and fussed with the display of chewing gum, picking up one package and putting it down while Alice paid for the milk. Alice waited and watched. Jenny’s hand hovered over a package of Chiclets. She turned to Alice with an embarrassed sort of smile.
“Sorry. It’s hard to decide. I never had candy when I was a kid.”
Other comments Jenny had made flitted through Alice’s mind. My mom didn’t think girls should play sports. She didn’t like if I made a mess. Her mother had been strict. Was that why they did it? But Jenny wasn’t living at home anymore. Unless that was another lie.
Jenny was still looking at her. If she wanted sympathy for her lack of sweets, it wasn’t going to come from Alice. Or maybe she wanted suggestions. Alice couldn’t think. She imagined the pulse in her throat beating through her skin, her veins popping. She was blinking too fast.
“Lots of people like Freshen-Up.” She pointed to the package, amazed she could lift her hand. “Big Red is cinnamon. Wrigley’s comes in Doublemint or Juicy Fruit.”
“Thanks.” Jenny grabbed a Big Red. Her attention turned to the chocolate bars. She picked out a few kinds that Alice didn’t recognize. Coffee Crisp, Smarties, Aero, and something called a Cherry Blossom. She also snatched up packages of Pop Rocks and Wax Lips.
The cashier was looking back and forth between them.
Alice wondered if he would remember them.
She envisioned him reading the newspaper later, meeting with the police, giving her description.
Would the police think they were helping the younger couple escape?
Good, she thought. Let them come looking for the RV.
The more the police had to go on, the better.
She hoped the cashier would notice their American license plate as they drove away.
The cashier rang up Jenny’s purchases and she handed over a crumpled two-dollar bill, taking back her change and a small brown paper bag with a soft “Thank you.”
They were moving out the door. The RV was opening.
Simon stood in the entrance. Alice looked quickly to her left and right.
No pay phone. It might be around the side, but Simon was taking the bag from Jenny and helping her up the stairs.
Next, he reached for Alice. She hesitated.
His brows were lowering in confusion. Soon that would turn to suspicion.
She placed her hand in his, releasing it the second she was inside. She shoved the milk into their fridge, then sat up front with Tom.
He smiled over at her. That familiar, easygoing, life-is-wonderful smile that used to make her entire body feel as though it was coated in liquid sunshine. Now it was jarring.
“Everything okay, honey?”
“Uh-huh.” She heard the tight rasp in her voice, the dryness. She busied herself with putting her purse by her feet. She didn’t want Tom to see the panic in her eyes. She had to stay calm until they got to the campground. There’d be a pay phone for sure—and more people.
To avoid listening to the radio, Alice popped in a Simon & Garfunkel eight-track but kept the volume low enough so that she could still hear the couple talking.
Simon was gently teasing Jenny about how much candy she’d bought, asking if she’d left anything on the shelves.
She answered cheekily that if he wasn’t nice, she wouldn’t share any of it with him.
Jenny offered samples to Tom and Alice. Tom took a piece of gum. Alice didn’t take anything.
She’d learned after their baby died that tragedy slices a person away from other people, gouges them out like rot.
Each time she had been forced to leave their house and get groceries or run errands, she’d been amazed that others were continuing with their lives.
Everywhere she looked people were laughing and loving.
It felt as alien as watching a foreign movie.
Secrets had the same effect. Tom, Jenny, and Simon were in a different world now. They were in the before. But Alice was wrapped in the after. Suffocating in her knowledge. She watched the white line on the highway, parts of the article playing on repeat in her mind.
Violent attack. Multiple stab wounds. Armed and dangerous.
They drove the rest of the way with limited conversation.
Alice switched cassettes often and hoped that would discourage any further talking.
She didn’t know what she’d do if Tom decided he wanted to listen to the news on the radio.
Could she “accidentally” break the dial?
Each time she heard a movement or whisper from the couple, she stiffened.
Did they still have the murder weapon? She couldn’t stop thinking over every interaction she’d had with Jenny.
The girl had shown moments of sadness, but nothing that could have hinted at their terrible crime.