It doesn’t work. John calls you, and you get in the car with Caleb and you drive again. You have rehearsed the story he will tell, pieced together all the evidence you have been fed by your brother, used your brilliant lawyer’s brain to create a convincing story that the police will believe, that will hold up to scrutiny, that will hold up in court, if it comes to that. Only problem is... Caleb runs. You stop at French Prairie Rest Area and he thinks: screw this. He doesn’t want to go back to his father, back to the scene of his crimes, back to a home where he will be scrutinized, watched, encaged, worse than ever before.
You trusted him too much. Caleb runs, and his story is rough, and unpolished. His narrative has holes. Now, you and your brother are hoping he won’t be found.
But he is seen by the wrong woman at the wrong time – a woman whose life isn’t led like yours – on fast-forward, but a woman who is watchful, who knows faces, who studies them, their angles, their features. She knows she has seen that missing boy, Caleb Veir. She may say she is a little less convinced than she really is, just so she doesn’t sound too crazy, but she knows, she knows it’s him.
There is nothing else you can do – you have to continue your drive to your brother’s house. Anything else would raise suspicion.
Oh, fuck: Seth Fuller doesn’t know where the packet is. It had to have been close to him when he was found. That means Clyde Brimmer or Shannon has it. If Shannon Fuller knows you nearly killed Seth, she will kill you, John. If you don’t kill her first.
72
Shannon Fuller stood with her back against the bar counter, her thoughts on a horrifying loop, her heart shattered. Not one person she loved, all of whom she had loved so fiercely, had been honest with her: not Aaron, not Seth, not John. Everyone had lied to her. What a fool she was. How humiliating it all was. She thought her heart had been as broken as a heart could be, but it just kept on coming. She couldn’t believe that there could be a lower place to which she could be plunged. The place where she now was. She was standing upright, but she felt there was another version of her, some shadow version that was collapsed on the floor at her feet. She would never recover. The hits had come one after the other. But she knew, at least, that Seth, she could forgive. Seth had more demons than she had ever known, but she knew she was right to have always trusted in his beautiful soul. And she would do everything she could to repair that, even if it took the rest of her life.
The phone rang, and it startled her from her thoughts. She let it ring. It stopped, then it rang again. When it rang a third time, she picked up.
‘Shannon, it’s Ren Bryce.’
‘Hi,’ said Shannon.
‘Have you seen John Veir in the past twenty-four hours?’
Shannon’s eyes flicked over to where John sat, ashen-faced by the wall, as she pointed Seth’s gun at his heart.
‘No,’ said Shannon.
‘OK,’ said Ren. ‘I don’t want to alarm you, but please, if he shows up, don’t let him in. I need you to lock up the bar, the house. Do not let anyone in. I’m on my way over.’
‘What?’ said Shannon. ‘Why?’ She stayed calm, but her heart had started to beat wildly.
‘I’ll speak with you when I get there,’ said Ren. ‘I’ll be ten minutes.’
‘Please,’ said Shannon. ‘Tell me. Why? What do you mean?’
‘I can’t,’ said Ren. ‘I’ll speak with you when I get there.’
‘OK,’ said Shannon. She put the phone down.
‘Who was that?’ said John.
‘None of your business,’ she said.
She was staring, now, at two people who thought nothing of taking lives, or of telling the most horrific of lies, of being colder than any two people she had ever been faced with.
And she was pointing a gun at them. And she wanted them to be gone.
73
Caleb Veir’s steady gaze moved between Shannon Fuller, and his dad. Shannon, Aunt Alice, his mom, his dad... there were a whole load of messed-up adults in his life.
Shannon had asked him five times what had he done, what had he done to her baby. He hadn’t answered her.
He thought back to that day, sitting in a tree at the edge of the Fullers’ front yard where he could see into Shannon’s bedroom. He knew that asshole Aaron was at practice for another hour, he knew that. He figured if Shannon was going to take her clothes off and he was going to see those giant titties the boys all talked about, now would be a good time – when she was alone.
Then he heard it – the familiar sound of the engine of his father’s car, as it drove into the front yard. He watched as he parked, a little haphazard, never like he would at home, as if he was desperate, heading to an emergency, parking outside a hospital where someone was dying or heading to a fire because someone had to be rescued. He thought he was caught – he thought someone had told his father that he was there, in a tree, looking to see some loser’s mom’s titties. But that wasn’t what happened.
His father was there for Shannon Fuller, who was now rushing into the yard like a puppy dog. Caleb watched them come together like they’d been thrown in an explosion, and his father was walking her backward into the house as the rain fell, and neither of them cared, like they were in a fucking movie. His dad was old, and this made him sick to his stomach. He watched as they made it only as far as the shelter of the porch before his father had hiked up Shannon’s skirt and was kissing her so hard, he...
Caleb shuddered. He remembered the week before the school dance, telling Aaron what he saw, using it like a weapon. He told him his mom was a whore. He called her Shannon Fulfiller. And Aaron answered in the strangest way. He could still remember what he said, how easy it was for him to say it, how open he was, how he hadn’t even sneered.
‘At least my mom loves me,’ Aaron had said.
‘You fucking pussy,’ Caleb said. He had mimicked him. ‘“At least my mom loves me.” Pussy.’
‘Your mom fucking hates you,’ said Aaron. ‘She never wanted you. She tried to fucking drown you when you were a baby, you fucking loser. She couldn’t even stand you for that long, probably got sick of you soon as she saw your ugly fucking face.’
‘You’re full of shit,’ said Caleb.
‘It’s the truth!’ said Aaron. ‘Only reason you’re still alive is because my mom came along and saw what was happening. She took you off of your mom at Clearwater Creek. She was holding your stupid head under the water. I can’t believe my mom saved your loser fucking life.’
Caleb felt cold, shivery, like the world around him was warm and colorful, and he was black and white, and he was ice. Nothing that came to mind he could say to Aaron: But my mom loves me! My mom is the only one who loves me! We’re a team! We... we love each other! She’s... always there for me. You’re a liar, Aaron Fuller! Aaron Full of Lies! You’re a fucking liar!
But something had told Caleb that this was the truth. He sensed it in his pounding chest, his sick stomach, his burning flesh, his flaring pupils.
My mother tried to kill me. Why? Why would she do that?
He couldn’t bear to ask her. He couldn’t bear it. But he would. He would come back to her, and it would be different now. She would have missed him. She would be so glad he was back. All he needed to do was get his fucking father to stay the fuck out of everything. And Alice.
The night of the middle school dance, Caleb had watched Aaron Fuller staring at Molly Gardner. The prettiest girl in the class, Molly had a dark streak; she was fun, but she liked creepy stuff. Aaron had been telling the story of Lizzie, the girl who haunted Cabin 8 at Lake Verny, how he had seen her, how she had a huge slice out of her leg, how she would scream and nothing would come out.