Chapter 29 After #2
“I’ve got a niece named Madison,” Wagner says. “Best friend’s name is Isabel, and there’s three more in their class. I’m not saying girls didn’t carve their names down there, but there’s nothing to suggest there’s anything nefarious. And you were trespassing.”
“Accidentally,” Len says.
“And the Hills are a good family,” Wagner goes on, as if he didn’t hear him.
“The land doesn’t belong to them,” I say.
“No, but they’ve lived in those woods for decades.
Which means they’d no doubt be dragged into this sorry business, and for what?
” Wagner asks. “Andrew Hill is a good man. And Melinda—-don’t much like her politics, but you can’t deny what she’s done for this town.
I’m not going to drag them through the mud because of, well, whatever the hell this is. ” He gestures dismissively at the file.
“It’s not even their land,” I say. “Look at these girls.” I lean over the desk, jabbing my finger at the files Len has printed. “Look at them. They look alike.”
“I don’t see it,” Wagner says. He narrows his eyes at me. “You realize I could charge you for trespassing.”
“Please, just go out there,” I say. “I work with Paul Matsuda. He has dogs—-trained dogs, the best in the state. If there’s a body out there, they’ll find it.”
“Len, escort Mr. Khanna and your friend out, will you?” Wagner says.
“Please just—-” I begin, but Len puts a hand on my shoulder.
“Audrey. Come on.”
One look at him, and I can see he doesn’t think we’re going to get anywhere.
My instinct is to keep shouting until something gives, but that’s why I trust Len to rein me in with these things.
He’s the sensible one. And then there’s Dev.
He looks angry, and about ready to puke from nerves.
I’m guessing he’s never had a brush with law enforcement.
I turn on my heel and stride out, letting the guys scramble to catch up. I don’t stop until I reach the lobby, well out of sight of Wagner’s office. There I whirl again, arms crossed, and glare down Len.
“I know,” he says before I can lay into him. “But that’s about what I expected.”
“Then why bother?” I ask.
“So that we can say that we tried, and that I didn’t hide this from him,” Len says, dropping his voice. He puts a hand on my shoulder, squeezes it. “There is something here, we all know that. I’m going to ask around. See who I know who might be able to go over Wagner’s head.”
“State police?” I ask. He nods. I swipe a hand over my face. It’s sensible, which means I hate it. “And if that doesn’t work?”
“I’ll figure it out,” Len says, and I note the pronoun. He doesn’t want me involved any more than I already am. And I’m not going to convince him otherwise.
“Okay,” I say, deflating. “Do your thing, then.”
Len looks relieved. And a touch suspicious. I’m giving in too easily, but what can he do?
“I should get you home,” I tell Dev.
“Before I start to smell,” he agrees. Then, with a grimace, “Smell any worse, I mean.”
I nod a farewell to Len and turn to go. “Audrey?” he says. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Too late for that,” I point out. He doesn’t look amused.
“Don’t escalate the stupid,” he says.
“Cross my heart.” We both know I’m lying, but he lets me go. Outside, the sun hits me like a needle to the eye. I rub the back of my neck and think, for the hundredth time, that I really should start doing yoga or something for all this tension.
“I’m sorry,” Dev says.
I look at him in surprise. “For what?”
“I was completely useless in there,” he says.
“I think of myself as a pretty competent person, not to brag, but apparently, stick me in a room with an officer of the law and all my rational thoughts are drowned out by a radio play of my mother on the phone when she finds out I got myself arrested. I’m going to have to turn in my bad--boy card. ”
“Where did you get a bad--boy card?” I tease him.
“It was in the pocket of a coat I bought at a thrift shop,” he says, and I laugh. I loop my hand through his elbow, tugging him toward the car. He seems surprised by the casual contact, and all of a sudden, I am, too.
All my relationships have been tumultuous in some way. Dramatic. Dev is just comfortable—-not in a boring way, which is what I’ve always assumed “healthy” relationships must be. But this—-I could get used to this.
I drop him off at his apartment building, our farewell stumbling in its particulars because neither of us is sure if we should hug or kiss or wave awkwardly. Dev settles for a kiss on the cheek, which seems regressive, given last night’s activities, but correct at the same time.
I pull into my drive with a gnawing feeling in my gut. I told Len I was done, but I’m the furthest thing from it. That hum has become as real as my own heartbeat. Whether I’m looking for a fresh body or old bones or a living girl, my job’s not yet finished, and every nerve in me knows it.
I’m fumbling my keys from my pocket when footsteps sound behind me, bringing me around in an alarmed rush. Andrew Hill strides up my driveway, a storm behind his eyes.
“Andrew,” I say, stumbling back. I’m two feet from the door. Inside, I hear the whump of Barry getting down off the bed he’s definitely not supposed to be sleeping on.
Andrew stops a little too close for comfort, just far enough for plausible deniability. He’s got nearly a foot of height on me, and years out from his athletic career, he might have softened around the edges, but he’s still got muscle packed onto that frame.
“You were on my land,” he says without preamble.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Wagner called.” Of course he did, the bastard. “He said you were trespassing. Making up wild stories.”
“I didn’t make up anything. And I wasn’t on your land,” I snap. “You don’t own it.”
“Technically, I do, actually,” he says. “Terry wouldn’t sell, but he couldn’t turn the money down, so we made a deal. It’s ours when he dies.”
“But he—-” I start.
“Died last night,” he says. I can’t even summon up a reaction. Andrew’s tone is entirely factual. “The rest is a matter of paperwork. So this is my business and my problem. What do you think you’re doing, exactly?”
“Did you know what was out there?” I ask him, searching his face. He wouldn’t be so angry unless he knew something.
He keeps his gaze steady. “What exactly am I supposed to have known?”
Barry’s at the door. I glance behind me, see his huge blocky head, his breath fogging up the glass beside the window. He’s tense, but he’s not growling yet.
“Did you know about the bunker?”
He stares at me a moment, and then wets his lips with a little dart of his tongue.
“Butler’s father built that thing in the ’40s.
The paranoia runs in the family. We used to play down there, before Terry chased us off.
We called it the fort. There’s nothing sinister about it.
Just the project of a paranoid man. One who’s been dead for half a century. ”
“Something happened in that place,” I say. I can’t tell what he knows. I’ve never been one of those people who can sight a lie on someone’s face in an instant. Angry is just angry to me, and he’s got plenty of reasons for his anger that have nothing to do with the truth of the bunker.
“I’d bet no one’s been in there for decades,” he says, shaking his head. “Unless some kids found it or something, but most of them know not to mess with Terry’s land.”
“Not even Emily?” I ask. His brows draw together, his frown deepening.
“Don’t bring Emily into this,” he says. “She’s not—-this is the last thing she needs.”
“She’s been going down there. Did you know that?”
“Even if she was, it’s none of your business.
None of this is,” he says, stepping forward, and now Barry gives a low warning bark.
It’s about half volume for him, which means it rattles the windows.
Andrew’s eyes track past me to the dog. His fist, clenched at his side, relaxes, and the corner of his mouth twitches up in an almost--smile.
“He’s protective, isn’t he?” he says mildly.
“That’s why I got him,” I say tightly. “He’s a good guard dog.”
“Best security system there is,” he says. “I bet you feel really safe, with a beast like that.” There’s something in his tone I don’t like. The quietest hint of mocking, as if to say, But you shouldn’t.
“I’m going to find out what happened to those girls,” I say.
“What girls?” he asks. “It’s just an empty room, Audrey. And it always has been.” He starts to turn away.
“They looked like Janie,” I say. He stops, but doesn’t turn to face me. “Did you see her, Andrew? When she came back, did she come to see you?”
“I barely knew Janie,” he says, looking over his shoulder. “The last time I saw her, she threw a book at my head and told me to drown myself in a ditch. You know what I thought when she left town? Good riddance. And that’s the last time I thought about her at all.”
“We both know that’s not true,” I snap. “That night at the bar, you didn’t act like someone who barely knew her and didn’t care.”
“I was drunk,” he says dismissively.
“She came back to Franklin, you know,” I say. “Just once.”
“Well, she didn’t bother to tell me,” Andrew replies. “That girl was a psycho. I never saw her again and she doesn’t have anything to do with this. Now, I’d appreciate it if you left my family alone.”
He walks swiftly down to the street, getting into a car I hadn’t noticed parked out front. Only then do I realize there’s someone in the passenger seat. Emily. She’s been there the whole time, watching our exchange. She stares at me with wide eyes as they pull away.
Janie isn’t the only one who could fit right in with Isabel and Madison. A shiver goes down my back. It isn’t a coincidence; it can’t be.
A sick sense of dread curdles in my stomach. “What happened to you?” I whisper, watching the car turn out of sight at the end of the street. Then another thought comes, from a deeper recess of my mind.
What did you do?