Chapter Forty-Five

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

I watch all this in dismay. I don't know how my mother can sense my presence, but it seems she can. Nobody else does. Unless she thinks I'm always here, even when I'm not. I can tell that what she's saying is making Mrs Acosta uneasy. She thinks Mom has lost it. If I were Mrs Acosta, that would be my reaction too.

Mom has always worried about me, and I guess she always will. That's what parents do. Now she's worried for my eternal soul, that I will never find rest. I haven't even thought about that. I never think about the future any more. I live in the present and think about the past. Is that what limbo is?

I worry about everything my mother has to bear. And I can't help her, I don't know how.

At least I can think about the past, and that's what I do, when I'm not spying on the living. I'm watching everyone trying to make sense of what happened to me. It's so frustrating, the way things come back to me only in snatches, in fragments. I guess that's what happens with trauma. I try to remember what happened that night but it's like someone has pulled a dark screen down over it. I try to remember more about the man in my backyard, but every time I do I feel overwhelming terror. It's just a blank. It makes me think of that poem we studied in school, Tell all the truth but tell it slant , by Emily Dickinson. Mrs Acosta explained that one interpretation of the poem was that it meant that the truth can be too much to take in all at once, that sometimes you must approach it in a roundabout way. It makes me wonder what Emily Dickinson knew about trauma. Maybe more than we realize.

I find myself thinking about Mr Turner, and what happened when I finally told Principal Kelly about what he did. I remember that well enough.

I hadn't enjoyed gym class or running practice since he'd walked in on me in the locker room, and I didn't want to be on the running team any more, but I stuck with it because I didn't want Cameron or anyone else asking why I'd quit. Everyone knew I was the best runner on the team. So it took me a couple of weeks before I did anything about it. The longer I went without saying anything, the harder it got to come forward. I thought Principal Kelly wouldn't believe me – I didn't have any proof, and it was my word against Mr Turner's. Mr Kelly had caught me in a lie before. I also didn't want anyone else to know what had happened, mostly because I was worried about what Cameron might do if he knew. I didn't even tell Riley. But finally, I got so tired of Turner's dirty little glances that I went to Principal Kelly to get it to stop. I thought I could keep it among just the three of us. I asked for a meeting, Mr Kelly, Mr Turner, and me. I told Mr Kelly what was happening and that he had to set Mr Turner straight. That it couldn't happen any more.

He denied everything, like I knew he would. I could tell he was surprised and angry that I'd finally come forward – he thought he'd gotten away with it. He was all bluster and hurt feelings, saying it was just a misunderstanding, that the looks, the touches were just him doing his job, being a supportive coach. As far as what happened in the locker room – he blamed me, like he said he would. He said that I'd invited him into the locker room and dropped my towel, that I was lying. That maybe I had a crush on him. I was so outraged I could hardly speak. Kelly looked back and forth between us; he looked like he felt cornered.

Kelly sided with Turner. They're friends. They're men. I told him that I didn't want to make a formal complaint, that I didn't want anyone to know. I told them that I just wanted him to stop. That I didn't want it to go any further. We left it at that.

And now he's trying to weasel out of what he did. I should have handled it differently, but I refuse to see any of it as my fault. It infuriates me that Mr Turner blamed me for his appalling behaviour. But isn't that what they do? She shouldn't have been wearing that. She was into me . And all the rest of it. I wish now that I'd told someone else about what happened, not just Mr Kelly. I should have told Riley. Or my mother. I should have told them everything. Because now I can't speak, and he gets to tell it his way.

Joe Prior watches them search his apartment. It's a little embarrassing, because the place is a mess. He glances around the apartment and sees what they see. Walls that need fresh paint. Floors that need cleaning. The obviously secondhand furniture. There's wet towels on the floor in the bathroom and dirty dishes and beer cans on the coffee table. But he knows there's nothing here for them to find. He even says to the female officer looking through his things, as if he's a retail worker in a store, ‘Can I help you find something?' She doesn't smile.

He tenses slightly when they look at his bookcase. He has a collection of true crime paperbacks, lots of serial killer stuff. They go through it carefully. One of them, the humourless woman, looks back at him, holding up his copy of I'll Be Gone in the Dark . That's not ideal, but lots of people read true crime; it doesn't make them murderers. They can't hold that against him.

But he wishes he'd never asked Roddy to lie for him.

Ellen stares at the series of messages on her phone early Tuesday evening. She promised herself she wouldn't look at them, but she hasn't been able to hold herself to it. Since the news hit about the other girl, she's been living in an unimaginable hell. Her parents are shocked, and being here at the farm with them she feels smothered by their sympathy and concern, although they don't say much. They don't have to.

Her dad had been in a panic the night before, afraid that they'd find another dead girl in one of his fields. He'd been up long into the night – they all had, while that macabre search went on – but they'd found nothing. And there was that unspoken subtext the whole time – What if it was Brad? She'd felt like she was inside a fun house, where everything was distorted, or a Hitchcock film. How relieved she'd been when they found nothing. Completely wrung out.

She wants to forget all about Brad Turner, forget he ever existed. And yet –

There are the messages.

Ellen, I love you.

I did not do what they're saying. It's all lies. You know me. I couldn't do something like that.

How could I do something like that when I have you?

You're everything I've ever wanted. Please don't leave me.

I have an attorney. We had a good meeting and he told me that I have nothing to worry about. There is no evidence against me, for anything. He says this will all blow over. It's just that girl's word against mine, and no one will believe her.

Please talk to me.

A text pings on Brad's phone, startling him.

What did the attorney say, exactly?

He'd given up on hearing from Ellen, but now his heart leaps. He types the answering text quickly. Can you come over and we'll talk?

No. Just tell me.

Fine , he texts back. It's better than nothing, Brad thinks. At least she's talking to him.

He said it was good I called him. He said I had nothing to worry about. The stuff in the file at school is, in his opinion, minor. He was able to see Kelly and he showed him what was in it. The actual file is with the police, but he took a copy, and like I told you, it was nothing. It's not enough to cause me any real harm. As far as the attorney's aware (he has contacts in the police) they don't have any actual evidence against anyone in Diana's murder. The media is just trying to make more of this than it is, because of the murder. He sees it all the time.

He might be making things sound a bit better than the attorney did, but he thinks the gist of it is right. Kelly's file makes no mention of the incident in the locker room with Diana or of the ugliness that happened after. Kelly was trying to cover his own ass, because he was required by law to report it whether he believed it or not, even if Diana didn't want him to.

But Brad is still worried. Even afraid. He doesn't completely trust Kelly to keep quiet. But Brad tells himself it's too late for Kelly to tell the truth now. He'd be in deep trouble. He's made his decision, and he's going to have to live with it. Zoe coming forward now is a little worrying, but it's her word against his and she never went to the school about it at the time, which makes her look like an attention seeker. He's practically in the clear.

I would like to see that file , Ellen texts.

And then he sees his way clear to everything. If he could show Ellen that file then she would be reassured. She has no reason to think Kelly would lie for him. He's never told her about Kelly's affair with the young teacher; she doesn't know that he has this to hold over him. She will forgive him and come back to him. It won't look good if she doesn't. They will get married in December and all this will go away and be forgotten.

I'll talk to Kelly. If I can get a copy, will you come over here and look at it?

Yes.

Ellen stares at their text conversation. Is she doing the right thing? If Brad really did nothing wrong, if Diana was making it up, exaggerating and lying like he said, then he's the victim here, and she should be supporting him 100 per cent. She allows herself a little hope. If the attorney is so sure, and if the account in the file is as mild as Brad says it is, then this nightmare might soon be over. Maybe the other girl only came forward after the murder for her little moment of fame. Maybe she's lying too.