When Devils Sing(19)
“Yes, ma’am, it has.” Andrea pulled Sam into an unwilling hug, then looked her over, blond eyebrows furrowing. “What happened to you? You’re covered in blood.”
“I, well…” Sam took a gracious step back. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Ben and I got into a car accident last night.”
Andrea’s eyes widened, which only made the dark bags beneath them look worse. “My Lord. I didn’t know that was you.”
“You heard about it?”
She nodded. “There’s talk all over the hospital. They’re callin’ your brother a miracle.”
Sam snorted. “Yeah … something like that.”
Andrea’s dried lips thinned. “Well, I’m glad to hear it. God bless his soul. Not all of us can be so lucky.”
Sam’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?” That’s when she noticed a thick stack of paper in Andrea’s hands. Peeking over the top of her fingers were familiar blue eyes. “What’re you holdin’?”
“You don’t know?” Andrea’s eyes turned watery, her chin trembling. She struggled to speak, offering Sam one of the papers. It took a breath for Sam to realize what she was looking at. In her hands was a missing person flyer for Dawson Sumter. According to the last seen date, he’d been missing for a week. “Have you heard from him?”
Sam’s throat went tight. Before high school, Dawson Sumter’s backyard had been Sam’s favorite place. Back then, she ate dinner at the Sumter household more often than her own. But Andrea always knew Sam’s bruises and cuts weren’t just from falling on the playground. She never did anything about it, other than offering her the food at her table.
No one ever did anything. Not her teachers. Not the school nurse. Not her soccer coach. Sam learned early on that people were rarely good, but they were also rarely bad. Instead, they were neither wholly committed to either side, which, in her eyes, was much worse.
Shaking her head, Sam said, “We haven’t talked in a while.”
Andrea nodded and handed Sam a thin stack from the pile. “Could you put these up around town for me?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Sam tucked them under her arm. “What’d the police say? Are they looking for him?”
“They told me this was normal for an eighteen-year-old boy. That I’m overreacting. Saying he’ll come home any day now.” Andrea stepped closer, lowering her voice. “But I know somethin’ ain’t right. I can feel it.”
Sam wanted to pull away from her. Andrea’s eyes were wild and desperate. She wondered if the woman was using again. If so, it made sense why Dawson was avoiding her. “Like what?”
Andrea frowned, hesitating for a moment. “I think Dawson got mixed up in something he shouldn’t have up at the lake.”
Sam blinked. “What makes you say that?”
Despite Sam and Dawson being best friends since elementary school, they had grown apart the past year. They both got part-time jobs working at the lake last summer. But while Sam grew to hate the Clearwater community more with each shift, Dawson grew to love it. Last she saw, he was buddying up with the Langley kids and was well on his way to becoming an honorary Clearwater member.
Andrea looked around, her voice low and quiet. “He was spendin’ too much time out there. He started not coming home after his shifts, being gone for days at a time. You know Dawson—that ain’t like him.” Her watery eyes went to the tile floor. “He moved out about a month ago. Got his own place somewhere.”
His own place?
Sam bristled, reconciling the idea of the Dawson she grew up with versus the person he had become. “I’m sure he’s fine. I bet he got flown out on a trip with some Clearwater kids. You know how they party. He’ll be back any day now.”
For a long moment, Andrea stared at Sam with a look she couldn’t discern. Was it anger? Frustration? Guilt? Sam didn’t know.
She supposed Andrea expected Sam to be more upset about Dawson’s disappearance, but Sam wasn’t worried. The white trash of Carrion all had dreams of being accepted into Clearwater’s exclusive community, but it often came at a cost. And for Dawson, that cost was clearly his former life, including his friendship with Sam, and now his association with his mama.
“I hope you’re right.” Andrea sighed, trying to compose herself. She hovered a little too closely to Sam, wringing her hands. “You’ll let me know if you hear anything from Dawson, won’t you?”
Sam took another step back while resentment swelled in her stomach. She wished her own mama cared for her half as much as Andrea did for Dawson. “Of course.” She cleared her throat, then asked, “Can you point me to the elevators? I got all turned around in this place.”
Andrea nodded, then gestured down the hall. “Take the first left, then go through the double doors on the right.”
“I guess I’ll get goin’ then.” Forcing a thin-lipped smile, Sam said, “Take care of yourself, Andrea. I mean it.”
“You too, Samantha,” Andrea said. “Please … watch yourself up at that lake.”
“I always do.”
Once Sam reached the elevators, she was grateful to disappear within and gather her thoughts. It was only then that she realized she had never pressed a floor number. The elevator was still—stuck, waiting for Sam to choose whether it was time to go down and home, as she was in desperate need of sleep.