“I’m not sure. I’m terrible at lying to Liz.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Crisis
ALAN WAITED IN A long line of cars in front of the school. As he was finishing his late lunch, he’d received a mechanical-voiced phone call from the school’s notification system—after school activities were cancelled. He wondered how the mill-working parents were dealing with the change. Some kids were walking away from the school with backpacks slung over their shoulders, but it looked like the majority were standing on the concrete walk in front of the school.
Alan rolled up—he was next in line.
Come on, Joe. Let’s go. Christ—look at me. Six months away from the city and I can’t even wait ten minutes. I would lose my mind in bumper-to-bumper traffic now.
The school had strict rules on pickups and drop-offs. Alan respected the rules. Kids could only exit or enter a vehicle if it was pulled up next to where the curb was painted yellow. If not for the system, kids might be running all through the parking lot while parents tried to navigate around them. Alan pulled forward.
Joe appeared from the knot of kids. He ran up to the passenger’s window of the Toyota. Alan saw Pete Grasso—Joe’s friend—standing behind his son. Alan put his window down.
“Get in, Joe. You’re holding up the line,” Alan said.
“I told Pete he could come over. His mom’s at work still. Is it okay?” Joe asked.
“Does your mom know you’re coming over, Pete?” Alan asked, leaning forward to see around his son. Alan was surprised and happy. Joe had met Pete through one of Liz’s contacts—he was the nephew of a secretary at the firm. The boys had played together often during the summer, and Joe had spent the night at Pete’s house a few times, but Pete rarely came over to their house. Being trusted with Pete during this mini-crisis was like getting a wild squirrel to eat from your hand for the first time. The locals were skittish and wary of outsiders.
Pete nodded.
“Then get in,” Alan said. “Let’s go.”
The boys piled in the back seat.
“Thanks Mr. Harper,” Pete said.
“No problem, Pete,” Alan said. “Call your mom and tell her that you’re coming over to my house.”
“He already told her that he was going to probably come over,” Joe said.
“I know, but I want you to call her and tell her that you’re on your way. That way she’ll know for sure,” Alan said.
“Okay,” Pete said.
He listened as the boy left a message for his mom. Alan hadn’t thought of that—Pete’s mom probably wasn’t even reachable in the afternoon except when she was on break. The mill was an extraordinarily loud and busy place. Before Pete finished the message, Alan interrupted him. “Do you want to ask your mom if you can stay for dinner, Pete.”
Pete disconnected and didn’t relay the question.
“I can’t,” Pete said. “I have to go home when she gets out of work. Mom said so.”
“Okay,” Alan said. “So why was everything cancelled? Did they tell you? The phone message I got didn’t say.”
“They didn’t tell us for sure,” Joe said, “but all the kids said it was because of the killings.”
“What? What killings?” Alan asked. He took his eyes from the road—traffic leaving the school was creeping along—and looked in the mirror at his son. Joe didn’t look even slightly upset by the situation.
“They said some old guy who lived over past the dam was killed last night,” Joe said.
“Clyde Prescott,” Pete said.
Alan nodded.
“Yeah. And they found some animals killed the same way,” Joe said. “So they don’t know if its a murderer around or some wild animal.”
“They told you that? And cancelled after school activities?” Alan asked.
“Yeah, and they cancelled school tomorrow and Friday,” Joe said.
“Right,” Alan said. “Of course they did.”
Traffic slowed ahead as the car in front of them waited to make a left turn. The traffic heading towards the school made a wall of cars going the opposite direction. Unless the woman in front of them found some kind-hearted soul willing to pause, they would be waiting for a bit.
“No, seriously,” Joe said. “We have next week off, too.”
“Yeah, I know about the crazy vacation week next. I don’t understand it so close to Thanksgiving and everything, but whatever.”
“We always have Halloween week off, Mr. Harper. It’s because of the mill changeover. They send everyone home while they tear down the machines and switch out the stock,” Pete said.
“I heard all about it,” Alan said. “But I don’t understand why they don’t do that over Thanksgiving or something.”
“We get a half-day on Wednesday and then Thursday and Friday off for Thanksgiving,” Joe said.
“That’s right,” Pete said.
Alan nodded. He eyed the shoulder.
Kids can’t remember to brush their teeth, but they know the school calendar by heart for the next ten months. Maybe I can get around this left-turn lady. I can’t believe they close school for a suspicious death. There has to be more to the story.
There was a ditch. He could have done it in the Colonel’s truck, but the Toyota would probably get stuck.
“So you don’t have school again until when?” Alan asked.
“Until November fourth,” Joe said. He had a big smile. “That’s eleven days.”
Alan picked up his phone. The car was still stopped ahead of them. He texted, “Vacation?” to Liz and then threw the phone down as the car behind him honked. He looked up—the car had turned and the road was clear.
“What time do you need to be home, Pete?” Alan asked.
“Mom will pick me up,” Pete said. “She said so.”
“And do you know when?”
“I don’t know,” Pete said.
Probably takes twenty minutes to get from the mill to our house. She’ll probably be over by 4:30, Alan thought.
“If you boys promise to do your homework as soon as we get to the house, I’ll stop for ice cream on the way home,” Alan said. He couldn’t help himself—he was excited that Pete was finally going to spend some time at the house. He wanted to impress the boy. Pete had friends—kids he’d grown up with—Joe had acquaintances. Joe would probably call Pete his best friend, but Alan doubted that Pete would express the same sentiment.
“Dairy Bar is closed, Dad,” Joe said. “It closed three weeks ago.”
“We could stop at Christy’s then,” Alan said. “We could make our own ice cream sundaes.”
“And we don’t have any homework. We had a math assignment, but then the homeroom teacher said that we could wait and get the assignments when we come back. It’s like summer vacation,” Joe said.
Alan’s phone buzzed. He looked down and saw the reply from Liz. It said “Ur crazy.”
“What about a boat ride then? You boys want to go out in the boat?” Alan asked.
Alan looked in the mirror and saw his son looking at Pete.
“I’m not supposed to out in boats in October,” Pete said. “Dad said so.”
“Really?” Alan asked. He tried to keep his eyes on the road, but he couldn’t help notice the sad look that came over Pete’s face. “Why is that?”
“I don’t know,” Pete said. The boy looked out his window.
“I have an idea, Dad,” Joe said. “Can me and Pete go out back in the woods?”
Alan looked in the mirror. Pete looked over at Joe. He shook his head a tiny bit.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea this time of year,” Alan said. “Remember the hunters, Joe.”
“That’s right,” Joe said to Pete. “There’s hunters in the woods out behind our house.”