Chapter 26
THE NEXT MORNING, THERE ARE MORE TRUCKS AND A SENSE THAT something has happened, something important. Alex paces by the front room windows. Sunny returned to Boston early, before the cops had even started for the day.
I head around the lake on my morning run, picking up the pace as I go by Dale’s place.
What happened there is still fresh in my mind.
My thoughts run in a loop. I circle the lake, pass the swamp, and near the spot where the trucks are located, not too far from Noah’s house, I hear excited voices.
A crowd has gathered. A large tow truck is backed to the edge of the lake, its tires cutting deep ruts into the shoreline.
I see Larry in the crowd, Ruth by his side. Alex is crossing his lawn on his way to see what the commotion is all about. I approach slowly. I want to observe from a distance, by myself.
An engine roars, and the truck lurches forward.
Dark, muddy water parts behind it, rushes outward as something very large is pulled from the lake.
The truck inches forward, engine straining, and the top of what looks like a car, blue paint streaming mud and silt, emerges.
The crowd mumbles excitedly as murky water rushes from the open driver’s side door.
The truck eases forward as the car fully escapes the water and settles on the shore like a dead fish.
Rusted and old, the dark blue mud-encrusted sedan lies silently next to Cheshire Lake.
Alex has joined Ruth and Larry. He runs his hand over his mouth. Ruth’s arm encircles his waist. Detective Bellman leads a group over to inspect the vehicle. Another cop motions the spectators to step back. Reporters resist and angle for a better vantage point.
Footfalls sound beside me, and I stiffen. Dale. He’s dressed for work but coming through the trees where I stand.
“What’s going on?” He covers his mouth with his hands. “Aubrey?” he cries.
“No. An old car. Too old.”
“Jesus. Thank God.” He leans over, his hands on his knees. He blows out a breath and straightens. “What’s it doing in the lake?” He steps forward, angling his head. “I wonder how long that’s been there.”
I have no clue. It must’ve been there a long time based on the rust and the shape of the car. It wasn’t a recent accident. I think back to when I first arrived at Cheshire Lake and noted how close the road was to the water and how dark it was out here at night.
I want to ask Dale about Jeffrey, but I don’t. Not now. What could I say? I’d been skulking around his backyard when I saw Jeffrey go into the house?
“Maybe before the electronic gates were put in,” Dale says.
“Ruth told me the old gates were hand operated and were often left open. It wasn’t until about twenty years ago that they were automated.
So, maybe someone from the outside drove into the lake in the old days and no one knew about it.
” He starts walking toward the group on the shore and I follow.
“Is there a body in it? Can you tell, Emma?”
I shudder. “I can’t really see from here. I hope not.”
The cops have pushed everyone back and told the crowd to disperse.
Alex, Ruth, and Larry turn toward the house. I catch up with them, while Dale walks in the direction of Detective Bellman.
“Does anyone know how that car got there?” I ask.
Alex clears his throat. “No, I don’t believe so. Not yet anyway.”
“Let’s go inside,” Ruth says.
We’re gathered in the Spencer front room. Larry stands at the window, watching the cops. Ruth and Alex sit close together on the sofa.
“Well, this is something,” Larry says. “They go looking for a weapon and they find an old car. You guys had no idea it was in there?” He swings around, stares at Alex and Ruth.
Ruth clasps her hands together. “No, of course not, Larry. It looks like it’s been there a long time.”
“Jesus. I hope there’s not a body in it. All this time,” Larry says.
Alex shakes his head. “Someone must’ve have driven in there at night. Couldn’t see where they were going. Instead of taking a right turn toward the gates, they got turned around and went left.
“Maybe they were drunk,” Ruth says. “It’s awful. I hope it wasn’t teenagers.”
Everyone falls silent and the sounds of the cops and their vehicles fill the room.
By evening, the car and the cops are gone, the car chained to the bed of a large truck and hauled away like a prized carcass from a hunt. Alex is in his office, and Ruth and Larry have gone home.
I tiptoe around the house, not wanting to disturb the strange silence that has descended like a cloud, as if the car has unsettled everyone.
But toward evening, I hear Alex on the phone in his office, voice raised slightly.
I wonder if it’s Liliana wondering when he’s coming home.
I don’t understand what would keep Alex from his young, pregnant wife.