Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

brENDA brEWER WORKS nights as a nurse at the hospital in Windsor, Vermont. There's no hospital in Fairhill, it's too small. She doesn't mind the thirty-five-minute commute to and from work, most of the time. She likes living in Fairhill, where everyone knows everybody. There's a grocery store, a feed store, a Home Depot, a main street with lots of shops, some restaurants, and a movie theatre. There's a small park, a couple of churches, a hockey arena, and a library. The farm kids are bussed in to the schools in town. She likes it here; it's enough for her. But she doesn't think it's enough for her daughter. She wants more for Diana.

Brenda's usually home in time to see Diana before she leaves for school. Now that her daughter is older, Brenda has recently switched to the night shift – which is easier and less busy than the day shift. She's been a single mom since Diana's dad left, six years ago, when Diana was eleven. He sends the occasional cheque – not as much as he should, but just enough that she doesn't go after him for what he really owes. Lee has a new family now, with a younger wife and twin boys who seem to absorb all his time and most of his money. Well, what did he expect? On the rare occasions that she sees him, he seems less happy and more stressed than he ever was when they were together. She thinks he has regrets. Serves him right.

Brenda is quite happy, though. Being single suits her. Especially now that Diana is growing up, and parenting doesn't take the time and energy it once did. She's gotten over being left by her husband, and she likes not having to take care of him and his mess. She's proud of how Diana has turned out. Her daughter is strong, smart, and kind. Those are the important things. She's beautiful and popular as well, but Brenda has never been too caught up in that. And neither has her daughter – she has a good head on her shoulders. She wants to do good in the world. Brenda has been lucky – some parents struggle with their children, but she never has. She and Diana get along well. Diana is easygoing and helpful. She's never given her any trouble, but Brenda wonders if that's about to change.

She's thinking about Diana as she drives home from the hospital, passing fields and farms on the familiar route. Her thoughts inevitably turn to Cameron, the boy that Diana's seeing. Her daughter has known him for years; they've been friends for a long time. He's always been there, in the background. It's only this fall, though, that they became a couple. It seems to have become very intense, very suddenly. It has taken Brenda by surprise, even made her a little uneasy. She likes Cameron well enough, but she doesn't want her daughter to settle. She doesn't think Cameron is smart enough, ambitious enough, good enough for her daughter. She doesn't want Diana ending up with her high school sweetheart, like she did. There's a whole wide world out there, beyond Fairhill, Vermont. But the less said at this point the better. She's not one to go looking to create a problem where one may not even exist. Diana is going away to college next year – that will put an end to it.

Brenda is late this morning, as she stayed longer to cover a gap in staffing, so it's almost nine o'clock as she turns into her own street. She loves nursing, but it's hard work, and now her feet and back hurt, and she just wants her bed. She regrets she wasn't home in time this morning to see Diana off to school, but they will catch up later.

Her fatigue evaporates when she notices the police cruiser parked on the street in front of her house. Brenda pulls into the driveway as a uniformed officer turns and watches her from her front step. She recognizes him – it's the police chief, Mike Hall. She suddenly feels her heart pounding, and her hands begin to tremble as she turns off the car. She tries not to give in to her sudden dread. What is he doing here? It can't be anything to do with Diana. Diana's at school.

She gets out of the car and looks at the police chief, who has walked toward her.

He says gently, ‘Mrs Brewer?'

‘Yes,' she manages to say. ‘What's wrong?'

‘Can we go inside and talk?' he asks.

She doesn't like the look on his face. She feels her centre collapsing, a weakness washing over her. ‘What is it?'

‘Come inside, please,' he says, taking her arm.

She allows herself to be led to the front door, which she unlocks with unsteady hands. He's going to tell her something she doesn't want to hear. She must prepare herself. But she doesn't want to prepare herself, she wants to send him away. She's angry at him for being here.

And then somehow, they are seated in her living room, and he is telling her that her daughter is dead. Her beautiful, perfect, only daughter. It's all very far away and echoey, as if he's talking at her from another room, but she can see his face swimming in and out of focus and he looks concerned. Well, he should be concerned, coming here and saying such nonsense.

‘No,' she says firmly. ‘Diana's at school. I think you should leave.' She gets up and moves to show him the door, but her legs give out beneath her. He catches her just in time and eases her back onto the sofa.

‘I'm so sorry,' he says, his voice breaking.

She begins to wail.

Cameron has a free first period on Friday. He sleeps in, then gets up and showers and pulls on jeans, a T-shirt and a hoodie. Then he goes downstairs for breakfast. His parents are both already at work. He likes having the house to himself. It's an older house, on the edge of town, with a screened-in front porch and creaky floors. He pours himself some cereal, grabs the milk out of the fridge, and is about to sit down at the kitchen table and check his cell phone when there's a knock at the door. He tenses and glances in the direction of the door. He puts the milk down on the table. The knock comes again, more loudly this time.

He walks down the hall and opens the front door. There are two officers in the tan and olive uniforms of Vermont State Police on the front porch, a strong-looking woman and a younger, taller man. He doesn't recognize them – they're not from around here. He immediately feels a surge of fear.

‘Yes?' he says.

‘Cameron Farrell?' the female officer says.

‘Yes, that's me.'

‘Are your parents home?' she asks.

‘No, they're at work.' He sees the two officers glance at each other.

She introduces herself and her partner, but the names go right over his head.

‘May we come in?'

‘Why? What's this about?'

When they don't answer, he gestures them inside. They walk into the living room on the right. It's an old-fashioned room, with slightly dated furniture and some antiques his parents have acquired over the years. He doesn't sit, so they don't either. He folds his arms in front of his chest nervously and waits for them to speak.

‘Do you know a girl named Diana Brewer?'

‘Yes. She's my girlfriend.'

‘Maybe you'd better sit down,' the female officer suggests.

Cameron slumps heavily into the armchair behind him. He doesn't speak now.

‘I'm so sorry, but I'm afraid Diana is dead,' she says gently, watching him closely.

‘What?' he says.

‘Her body was found a short while ago in a farmer's field, not far from here.'

He can hear the blood pounding in his ears. He shakes his head. ‘That's impossible. I just saw her—' He stops suddenly.

‘When did you last see her?' the officer asks.

He swallows. ‘Last night.'

‘What time last night?' she asks.

‘I don't know exactly. I need to think.'

She waits for him to say more, but he's frightened. ‘What happened to her?' he asks, his voice unsteady.

The officer ignores his question, and asks, ‘Where did you see her last night?'

Cameron's eyes are filling with tears as he answers. ‘I picked her up in my dad's truck. We drove around,' he clears his throat, ‘made out.' He looks at the two officers nervously. ‘Then I dropped her back at her house and came home – probably just after eleven.'

The female officer is nodding back at him. She says gently, ‘I'm so sorry for your loss.' Then she adds, ‘We'd like you to come down to the station to talk to us, if that's all right.'

‘Okay,' he says. His body is beginning to tremble.

She says, ‘You need to call your parents.'