But he was still there for me sometimes, late at night, when I had nightmares, when I called out from my bedroom; he sang to me, my head against his chest, his heart thrumming in my heart, just us in the dark.
What would my father choose?
Special corny shit, Luther Leonard said.
My mother said, “That silly song, Neil. My god, I can’t believe you sing that to her.”
He would laugh. “I can’t help it. I love it. It’s from my childhood. First song I knew by heart.”
My eyes fly open.
Jenny I got your number
Jenny don’t change your number
867-5309
There’s a beep and a click and I pull the door open.
There are rolls of cash, a watch case, accordion folders full of paper, and the boxes of jewelry my mother stashed in here before Joey came home from Blue Spruce. Because he might be a thief.
It turns out, the thief is me.
* * *
—
“Nana.”
She swivels around on the couch.
“I’m leaving now. I’m going to wait for my friend on the porch. Watch the trick-or-treaters.”
“Okay, dear. It’s nice you’re helping your friend.”
I say bye and head out the door.
At the end of the front stoop, I pull out my phone. Daniel answers on the first ring.
“Hello, you. Are we going out with pillowcases to score some candy? I might have a funny fake mustache around here somewhere.”
“I need you,” I say urgently. “I need your car. Like, right now. I can’t explain. I don’t have time. I just need you to come get me right now.”
“Emory, what’s going on?” he asks, suddenly serious.
“Just come right now.” My voice cracks. “Please.”
* * *
—
When he pulls up, I walk around to the driver’s seat and open the door. “Move over,” I say. “I’m driving.”
“Such attitude,” Daniel says. “I like it.” He scooches over the gearshift, landing awkwardly in the passenger seat. I throw my backpack on his lap.
“Ow,” he says. “What’s in here? It’s heavy.”
“Buckle up,” I tell him. I toss him my phone. “And when this rings, put it on speaker, but do not speak, do you understand?”
“Emory, what’s happening? You’re acting like we’re about to rob a bank or something.” His voice wavers a little. “I mean, are we? I would have worn my best scarf.”
“Actually,” I say, turning the ignition, “I kind of already did.”
I start driving.
“Emory, tell me what this is, right now. I didn’t give up a night of candy for weird espionage. I mean, that’s cool and all, but you’re kind of freaking me out.”
“We’re going to get Joey,” I say.
“What?”
“Luther Leonard. He’s with him. He said…he said if I brought him stuff, he’d give me Joey. He said he’s ready to come home and this is the deal. So here we are.” I laugh nervously, glancing over at him.
His face is grim.
“Emory,” Daniel says slowly. “We should call the police. This sounds sketchy.”
“No,” I say sharply. “He said not to do that, or it was off. I talked to Joey. He’s ready to come back.”
“I’m calling the police,” Daniel says. “This isn’t right. It’s not safe. It’s…it’s weird.”
“Daniel, if you call the police, I will literally push you out of this car while I’m driving and leave you to die on the side of the road.”
“That’s a little…violent. And here I thought you were just a nice quiet girl with excellent taste in cardigans who likes to gaze out the windows of classrooms with her chin in her hand.”
“Daniel.” I glance at him, then back at the road. “If you were me, and you had a chance to help somebody you loved, wouldn’t you do anything? Anything you could?”
“If you don’t stop crying, you’re going to crash,” he offers. “Blurry vision.”
I wipe my face with one hand. I didn’t even realize I was crying. I can barely feel anything with all the adrenaline running through my veins.
“And yes,” Daniel says quietly. “Yes, I would do anything.”
“Then shut up and help me.”
“What’s in the backpack?”
“Money. Jewelry.”
Daniel laughs, sharply and high, like a small child. “Oh my god, this really is a heist. I’m going to have a panic attack, right here and now—”
My phone rings. Daniel looks down at his lap, stricken.
“Answer it,” I hiss. “But don’t say anything. Just put it on speaker.”
From the corner of my eye, I can see his hands fumbling, fingers trembling. He holds it up and out for me.
“Hello,” I say.
“Emmy,” Luther says. “Were you a good kid? You have what I need?”
“Yes,” I tell him.
“Excellent. Drive north out of town. Get on Wolf Creek Road. When you see me, you’ll see me.”
I’m on Main Street. I take a left.
“Wait.” I pause. “Wolf Creek Road?”
“That’s right, Emmy. Where this whole shitshow started.”
He clicks off. Daniel puts the phone back on his lap. “Wolf Creek Road? That’s way out there.”
“I know,” I say, my body flooding with fear.
Snow is coating the windshield, just like rain smeared it that night, making everything hard to see. I turn on the wipers, take a deep breath.
“He’s taking me back to where it happened. The accident.”
43
THE PINE TREES ARE dusted with snow, the branches hanging out over the road like white hands. I’m not sure exactly what I’m supposed to be looking for. A car? Luther and Joey, standing by the side of the road? What I do know, though, is that I’m not supposed to have Daniel because Luther said not to bring anyone.
“You have to get down,” I tell Daniel. “Scrunch down there. Take off your jacket and put it over you. I wasn’t supposed to bring anybody.”
He turns and looks at me. “Oh, well, now is a good time to tell me that, Emory,” he says, and I flash him a weak smile. “Thanks so very much for that. As Adam Sandler so succinctly put it in The Wedding Singer: ‘I could have used that information yesterday!’？”
“In a better universe, I would laugh very hard at that, Daniel Wankel.”
He thunks the backpack into the backseat and wriggles out of his blazer. “You know, while you’ve been sitting there stone-faced, yet also weeping, which is weird, and we can talk about that later, I’ve been having a lot of thoughts. Like, what if he has a gun? What if he’s not alone? What if I end up hog-tied at the bottom of Wolf Creek? What if—”
“Just get down,” I snap. I’m starting to get more scared. It’s so dark on this road and I’m remembering how twisty it was, and how the rain that night obscured everything. How it sounded like Candy was drowning in her own blood.
We are driving through sheets of white snow and I can barely see anything.
Daniel pushes the passenger seat back a little and squats on the floor, awkwardly trying to throw his jacket over his head. I reach down carefully, keeping my eye on the white road, and try to fix it so it covers him.