Shit. That meant Echo’s mom wasn’t around anymore. But he still had Audra’s best friend’s daughter. Hell, maybe Audra was like an aunt to Echo when she was a kid. Maybe Echo had met the group herself. She’d been young, but that didn’t mean she’d forgotten it all.
“When I came to introduce myself, you put out this vibe,” Echo explained. “You were in distress. I picked up on it right away. I suppose I’m just a good guesser.” She shrugged. “I figured that maybe, since you said you were going to move away from here, that distress had something to do with your job. And so, here I am.” She lifted a shoulder, smiled. “Just remember me when you finish your book. Give me a mention. Maybe even offer me one of those beers.”
“Oh God.” Lucas shot a glance at his nearly empty bottle. “I’m sorry, do you—”
“It’s okay.” She cut him off. “Next time. I just wanted to drop that off. After all, you have a lot of work to do.”
Lucas shook his head, hardly understanding any of this. It was impossible, a situation that only happened in movies—a happy coincidence that could never occur in real life. Too perfect. But he decided to put his trepidation aside. This was too much of a good thing to lose to his own paranoia. “Hey, I can’t just let you give this to me,” he told her. “Let me pay you or something.”
“I’m not selling them,” she said. “You’re borrowing them, that’s all.”
“No, no, I understand, I just don’t . . . I don’t feel right. I don’t think you understand how incredible this stuff is. It’s invaluable. Priceless. This is like . . .” He struggled to find the words.
She finished his sentence. “It’s the Halcomb Holy Grail, yes, I’m aware. If anyone will put it to good use, I’m confident it’s you. I’m a helper, remember?” Echo lifted her hands, wiggled her fingers at him as if summoning some unknown, mystical force. “The color of your aura is already changing. That distress is dissipating, which means I’ve done my job.”
He didn’t know what to say. It was a kindness that he couldn’t begin to understand, especially after not being that accommodating a neighbor. He hadn’t been on his best behavior when Echo had paid her first visit, and yet here she was, fulfilling her spiritual role. He took a breath and slowly exhaled. “Beer,” he said. “A thousand bottles of whatever you choose—just tell me what you like and come over whenever you want.”
Echo smiled at the offer. “That would be nice.” She cast a look around the room again and nodded. “I’d like that.”
“Then that’s what it’ll be,” Lucas said. Good fences make good neighbors, his father would have grumbled, but this time his dad would have been wrong. This strange granola girl had made his day. His year. Possibly his career.
And even though he had been cursing Halcomb not a half hour before, now he couldn’t help but think, Thank God he talked me into moving to Pier Pointe. Because without Pier Pointe, he wouldn’t have met Echo, and without Echo, there would be no hope. Suddenly, his dead project was alive and kicking.
Screw Jeffrey Halcomb. If he didn’t want to talk, Lucas would talk to Echo, the next best thing, instead.
LAMBERT CORRECTIONAL INCIDENT REPORT—031210SXH
DATE OF INCIDENT: March 12, 2010
TIME OF INCIDENT: 15:30
REPORTING OFFICER: Stewart Xavier Hillstone
At approximately 15:30, I entered Lambert’s solitary confinement unit to retrieve inmate 881978, Jeffrey Christopher Halcomb, and escort him to the visitation cell. Upon entering the unit, I heard Halcomb and inmate 932104, Trey Allen Schwartz, conversing in low tones through the ports in their doors. I made myself known by announcing that Halcomb should ready himself to be cuffed and removed from his cell, which brought their conversation to a halt.
Once I had Halcomb cuffed, I unlocked his cell and led him down the hall toward visitation, at which time Schwartz called out to him. I didn’t catch exactly what was said, but it was something akin to “see you later, Jay.” Schwartz sounded in good spirits. Halcomb did not respond.
I surrendered Halcomb to Officers Pasqual Cruz and Steven Morris at approximately 15:35, stopped by the security desk to note that Halcomb was in visitation, and returned to the SC unit and proceeded to do a standard contraband check of Halcomb’s cell. I completed my check and was ready to proceed back to the security desk when I noticed blood pooling out from beneath Inmate Schwartz’s door. Through the port in the door, I discovered the inmate unconscious on the floor at approximately 15:45. It appeared that the inmate had obtained an undetermined piece of contraband and stabbed himself in the carotid artery of his neck.
I immediately called for backup as well as for the security desk to unlock his cell. I rolled the inmate over and checked for a pulse while waiting for medical assistance, but the inmate appeared unconscious and limp long before they arrived. By the time assisting officers Malcom Gladwell and Craig Koch appeared, the inmate was deceased. The inmate was transported to Lambert General at approximately 18:15, where he was officially pronounced dead by the Lambert City coroner. The coroner removed the object that was used to end the inmate’s life and identified it as a metal cross with a sharpened stem approximately three inches in length. The cross appeared to have been a piece of costume jewelry potentially obtained through a visitor, though records show that Inmate Schwartz had no visitors for the three months previous to his death. It is as yet unclear as to how the inmate obtained such an item.
28
YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE said anything.
Vee sat on the edge of her mattress and stared at the carpet beneath her feet.
We’re going to move as soon as I can find us another place to go.
No surprise there. She’d brought her father’s decision to leave the house down on herself, all because she had been angry, because she couldn’t resist taking a jab at him. He had seemed serious when he’d announced the change of plans, sad and defeated but not willing to take no for an answer. She could have said a lot of things to her dad right then, like how she wanted him to succeed so he could be happy again. Like how she knew that his books were what made him who he was and his writing kept him alive from day to day. She could have told him she loved him, that she was terrified of losing him in a divorce. She could have let him in on her secret, told him about the girl in the mirror, the boy in the orchard, the shadow people and weird music, the way the house had changed before her eyes.
But instead, she had been cruel. Giving up isn’t going to get Mom back. As though he didn’t know that. As if she had to remind him of what seemed like a guaranteed loss. Vee wasn’t convinced that a runaway bestseller would win back her mother, and perhaps that was for the better. She doubted her mom still loved her dad, and if there was no love there, her father was better off being alone.
Except that now he thinks you don’t love him, either. She bit her bottom lip hard enough to make herself wince. You’re an idiot, she thought. You can’t be supportive when people need it most. It’s like there’s something wrong with you. You’re broken, Vee. He’ll be happier without you, too. Swallowing against the bitterness in her throat, she shoved her fingers through her hair and nudged her laptop with her bare foot. It was enough to rouse it from sleep. The screen snapped on, and Jeff Halcomb gave her a look of understanding.
It’s not you, it’s him.
Because none of this would be happening if her dad hadn’t lied, if her parents could stop screaming for long enough to talk. She was being torn between two people, and the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if she would be better off on her own. Her dad would be happier without her. Her mom was already happier halfway across the world, having erased them both from her mind. Why shouldn’t Vee forget as well?