Everyone Here Is Lying(59)
But Al hates his wife. He realizes that now, realizes it’s been building for a while. He hates his wife with a pure, white-hot zeal. He could kill her. His son is not a monster, but Al realizes in that moment, driving too fast down that dark highway, that he himself might be capable of something unspeakable.
* * *
? ? ?
Gully is at a drive-through, waiting for a burger and fries, before heading back to the station, when her cell phone buzzes. She sees that it’s Erin Wooler calling. For a moment she feels guilty; she hasn’t dropped in on her at all today, it’s been so busy. Was it just this morning that she spoke to Alice Seton, thinking Avery might be somewhere in that house? And then identifying the witness, picking up Ryan. She’d meant to call Erin at various times throughout the day, but something always interfered. She takes the call.
“Detective Gully?”
“Hi, Erin,” Gully says. “I’m sorry I haven’t dropped by today yet. I was just about to call you.”
“I was expecting to hear from you,” Erin says, and Gully can tell she’s not happy with her.
Erin asks bluntly, “Ryan Blanchard—did he take her?”
Gully sighs. “We don’t know. So far he’s denying it.”
“Who is this witness?”
Gully’s heart sinks. This is why she’s been avoiding Erin Wooler, because Gully knew she would ask who the witness is, and she can’t say, even though Gully thinks she has a right to know. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.”
“Why not?”
Gully sighs again and says, “That’s just the way it is right now. There’s good reason for it, that’s all I can tell you.”
“That’s bullshit,” Erin says. She waits a moment and then asks, “Do you believe them? That Avery got into that boy’s car?”
“The witness is very credible,” Gully says, avoiding a direct answer.
“Why did they wait so long?” Erin cries.
Gully hears the raw pain in the other woman’s voice. “There’s a reason for that, but I can’t tell you what it is,” Gully says, feeling awful.
Erin abruptly disconnects.
Thirty-eight
Avery is sulking in the basement bedroom. She’s not happy that Ryan Blanchard is in jail. This was supposed to be about making her dad suffer.
She can hear Marion moving around upstairs. Marion wants her to leave. Avery will leave when she’s good and ready. Has her father learned his lesson? Has he suffered enough? She’s pretty sure he’ll never hit her again after this. Maybe it’s time to slip away and be found walking on the road in the middle of the night.
Her reappearance will create a sensation. Everyone will want to interview her. Maybe she’ll be asked to go on some really big talk shows, like Good Morning America. Maybe there will be money in it. If there is, she’ll make sure it goes to her, not her parents.
She will say she was grabbed by a man from behind, and something put over her head so she couldn’t see, and forced into a vehicle and driven a long distance. Then she was taken from the car and into the basement of a house and locked in the dark for she doesn’t know how long—she had no way to tell the time, no way to know what was going on in the outside world. She was terrified. The man never spoke. He wore a mask the whole time. He let her use the toilet in the basement, then he would lock her in the room again. She would never be able to identify him, would never know why he took her or why he released her. He didn’t hurt her physically—they would be able to tell he hadn’t touched her, so she can’t lie about that. She wants them to believe her.
She’ll say that he covered her head again, put her back in the car, drove a long time, and dropped her in the woods, took the hood off, and told her to lie down with her face to the ground and not get up till she counted to five hundred. Then she walked until she found a road.
Will they believe her? She thinks they will. The only one who might not believe her story is her father. He might guess the truth—that she ran away and hid somewhere and is making it all up. But he won’t dare say so—how would it look? And he’s the only one, besides her, who knows what happened in the kitchen that day. He’ll be worried that she’ll say something. He’ll be careful around her. She finds she’s actually starting to look forward to being home again.
Michael will be jealous of all the attention she’ll get. He’ll resent her, resent how crazy their lives will become. But she’ll enjoy it.
Avery will watch the eleven o’clock news and then she’ll decide. Maybe she’ll tell Marion that she plans to leave tonight after all.
* * *
? ? ?
Erin Wooler is so angry. She’s angry at the world. She’s angry at her husband, Detective Gully, and the mystery witness who failed to come forward in time. Her rage is the size of a mountain. It gives her purpose, it gives her strength. She wants to speak to this mystery witness herself. She wants to determine if this anonymous person is telling the truth about Ryan Blanchard. If so, then he took her daughter, and she saves her biggest rage for him.
She paces the living room, thinking about Detective Gully. She wouldn’t tell her who the witness is—she’s obviously afraid to, after what happened with Ryan Blanchard. It must be someone close by, to have seen what they claim to have seen. To know Ryan’s car. To recognize Avery. It must be someone on this very street. She thinks of all the people on Connaught Street. She knows many of them by sight, and some to chat to, but she doesn’t know all of them. She could go, now, to each house, and ask point-blank if they called the police about Ryan Blanchard. Surely whoever it is will tell her the truth, if she promises to say nothing about who it is? She is the mother of the missing girl. Most of the people on the street are parents themselves. She will shake the truth out of them if she has to.