Jake’s fingers clenched around the steering wheel, and he drove down one line of parked cars, then the other. The police would have seen the bulletin board in Voloshin’s apartment, unless the killer took it. He assumed for a moment that the killer took the bulletin board, along with the laptop and phone, then he rejected that as highly unlikely. If the killer were a burglar, no burglar would take a bulletin board, and it would attract attention to be hurrying from the apartment with a large, unwieldy bulletin board.
Jake spotted BMWs, but they were the wrong color, too, so he drove on, mentally testing his theory. The killer could have gotten away with taking only the photo of the sedan parked on Dolomite Road, but that was unlikely too. The photo was half-hidden and someone who committed murder would be in a hurry to escape. Jake drove preoccupied past USPS mailboxes, FedEx, DHL, and UPS drop-offs, and the endless signage that replaced trees; THIS IS A TOBACCO FREE WORKPLACE, SPEED LIMIT 10, UNAUTHORIZED VEHICLES TOWED AT OWNER’S EXPENSE, ADDITIONAL PARKING ON OTHER SIDE OF BUILDING, ALL VISITORS PLEASE CHECK IN AT 200 CONCORDIA PARKWAY.
Jake navigated to another section of the parking lot and surveyed the cars, but they seemed to recede into the background as he realized something awful. If the killer looked inside Voloshin’s computer and phone, then he would know what actually happened the night of the accident on Pike Road, that he and Ryan were responsible for Kathleen’s death. And the killer would also know that Jake was being blackmailed, too. The police had said that they had seen evidence that Voloshin was setting up an offshore account.
Jake felt a new tingle of fear, and another set of questions rushed at him. If the killer had feelings for Kathleen, he could want revenge on those responsible for her death. What if the killer decided to come after Ryan? Or him, or Pam? Jake had to find out who killed Voloshin, so he could protect his family. His troubles weren’t over with Voloshin’s death, they were just beginning. Whoever the killer was, he was a lot more dangerous than Voloshin.
Jake headed down another aisle of cars and checked each one, redoubling his efforts. Who was the killer? How did Kathleen find him? If her mother didn’t know about him, did any of her friends? How could such a nice young girl be mixed up with somebody ruthless enough to stab a man to death? Suddenly his phone started ringing, and he checked the screen. It was Pam calling, and he picked up. “Yes?”
“Listen, I don’t have much time. We’re on break during oral arguments.” Pam’s tone was clipped and professional. “I just spoke with Ryan. He called me.”
“Okay, what’s up?” Jake sensed Pam was telling him that Ryan called her, not him, as if they still were playing tug-of-war with their son.
“There’s a memorial program tonight at school for Kathleen. The team is going, and he has to go with them.”
“Oh no.” Jake pulled over and parked, so he could focus. “That’ll be tough for him. Can’t he get out of it? Can’t we say he got sick again?”
“No. He has to go. We have to go, too. He’ll need the support. You have to leave work early. The program starts at six thirty.”
“Okay, fine.” Jake didn’t bother explaining that he wasn’t at work. “But honey, listen, we have to settle this. I can’t move out now. You have to let me stay home.”
“No I don’t. Get a hotel room. No one has to know. We’ll keep it a secret. You’re good at that.”
“Pam, I don’t think you and Ryan should be alone in the house right now. It’s not safe.”
“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to break up.”
“That’s not true. I’m saying it because you could be in danger. So could we all. The more I think about it, the more I worry that whoever killed Voloshin could come after us—”
“I thought you were worried about the police. Now a murderer’s coming after me? What is this, scare tactics?”
“No. It could happen, babe. I looked at those pictures you took and I figured out that Kathleen was meeting someone in secret. I’m thinking he’s the guy who killed Voloshin—”
“So what are you saying? I need a bodyguard?”
Jake hadn’t gotten that far in his thinking. “You might—”
“Oh, great! Of course we can’t go to the police, or Ryan goes to jail. My son goes to jail!”
“That won’t happen.”
“What do we do then? Got any ideas?”
“We can talk about it tonight. I need you to be careful. Keep an eye out when you’re driving or when you—”
“Jake, if you’re trying to scare me into staying in this marriage, it won’t work. You don’t understand the damage you’ve done. You don’t get it.”
“We can fix it. I can fix it.”
“No we can’t,” Pam shot back. “I didn’t go outside the marriage because I wanted to, I went out because I had to. I’m not proud of it, but it is what it is. And we gave it a shot, which you totally destroyed. I’m making myself crazy, going over it and over it in my head. If we had broken up, you wouldn’t have been in the car Friday night with Ryan. None of this would have happened.”
“You can’t think that way. You don’t know that—”
“Yes, I do. Get your head out of the sand, Jake. It’s over. It has to be. We can’t go back, we just can’t. I can’t. I’m done. I can’t forgive you, ever. I want a divorce.”
“Babe, listen, I love you, and no matter what problems we’re having, we have to get through this together. Even tonight, we have to put up a united front, for Ryan’s sake.”
“You’re saying that for you, not for him.”
“No, I’m not. You know this is killing him, and we have to make sure he keeps it together. He’s cutting classes, getting high, messing up in basketball. God knows what he could do next. He needs us both—”
“You’re shameless! Since when are you so sensitive to our son? Since he started taking your side? Since he decided I’m the bad guy?”
Jake told himself to remain calm. “Pam, you said you don’t have time to talk, so let’s not waste time fighting.”
“It’s so unfair to me, Jake!” Pam raised her voice. “This is unfair to me and him! You’re the one who put us in this impossible situation! You’re the one who told him it was okay to drive in the first place!”
“We’ve been over this—”
“But somehow, I’m the one who’s a murder suspect, and now, a target! That girl would be alive if not for you!”
Jake felt the truth in her words, and her contempt for him, like a knife to the chest. “I know that, believe me, I know that every minute. But as far as we go, you and me, please just let me live at home, at least for the foreseeable future.”
“Damn you! Damn you for doing this! You’re putting me in a corner!”
“No, I’m trying to make the best of it. We have to stay together. You want to kick me out later, fine, but for right now, let’s agree to disagree.”
“I’ll be damned if I’ll pretend that everything is fine!”
“You don’t have to.”
“You’re damn right I don’t! This is awful, Jake, all the way down—”
“I know that—”
“It’s awful and it’s all your fault. Now you’re telling me we’re in danger and all of it is your fault!”
“Honey, I’m sorry, I’ve said it a thousand times, and I mean it—”
“Wait, hold on.” Pam lowered her voice, as if someone had come into the room. “See you at home by six fifteen. Don’t be late.”
“Okay, bye,” Jake said, but Pam had already hung up.
Chapter Forty
The sky was beginning to darken, and an early chill came on. Jake had searched the parking lot at the corporate center over an hour, with no luck. He’d found three black BMWs, but one had a New Jersey license plate and none had a plate with HKE. It was still his theory that the killer worked at the corporate center, though he kept it open as a possibility that the killer worked elsewhere and used Dolomite Road to park, finding it on his own.
Ja
ke parked in his driveway and walked to his front door, glancing over his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t been followed by the detectives or anyone else. Nothing on their street was amiss, and there were no cars he didn’t recognize. The houses stood quiet because nobody was home from work yet.
Jake unlocked the door and let himself in, but Moose didn’t greet him. He stopped, feeling a glimmer of worry, but heard voices talking in the kitchen and one of them was Ryan’s. “Ryan?” Jake called out, puzzled. “You’re home?”
“Hey, Dad! We’re in the kitchen!”
We? “Hi! Be right in.” Jake tossed his keys on the console table and slid out of his jacket, noting that his sleeve had tiny tears from the thornbushes. He set the jacket on the chair and walked to the kitchen, where Ryan was sitting at the table with a girl Jake didn’t know. Soda cans, an open bag of hard pretzels, and crumpled napkins covered the table, next to an open laptop and two stuffed backpacks. Moose sat next to Ryan’s chair, sniffing the pretzel bag, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.
“Dad, this is Sabrina, from the track team.” Ryan flushed, gesturing at the girl, who looked tall and wiry, and her long, dark red hair was tied back in a floppy double ponytail. She had on a gray dress, whose short sleeves showed the ripped arms of a runner. Her eyes were grayish, and tiny freckles dotted her largish nose and cheekbones, which were pronounced, even a little gaunt, like someone with zero body fat.
“Hey, Mr. Buckman.” Sabrina half-smiled, showing a row of Invisalign braces. “Nice to meet you.”
“Hi, Sabrina.” Jake crossed to the refrigerator, opened the door, and slid out a can of Diet Coke. He wished he could talk to Ryan alone and see how he was doing, because he seemed subdued and disheveled, with his bangs in his eyes and his blue polo shirt wrinkled.
“Dad, did Mom tell you about the memorial assembly tonight for Kathleen Lindstrom?”
“Yes, that’s why I’m home early. How was school?” Jake avoided Ryan’s eye while the awkward moment passed. He had no idea how his son would get through such a difficult evening, knowing what they had done and having to put on a false face for all of his classmates.
“Fine, good.” Ryan met his eye briefly, then looked away.
“What happened to practice?” Jake leaned against the counter. He didn’t like the fact that Ryan was alone in the house, with God-knows-who watching.
“They canceled it because of the assembly tonight. The whole athletic department’s going.”
“I see. How did you get home?”
“Sabrina’s mom dropped us off. We can take her to school with us, after Mom gets home. That’s okay, right?” Ryan’s expression looked guarded, and Jake knew he was giving him the heads-up.
“Sure, great. So what are you guys doing? Homework?”
“No,” Ryan answered. “Sabrina has to give a speech tonight at the assembly, and I’m helping her. Rather, I’m supposed to be helping her, but we’re not doing so great.”
“I’m sure you’re helping.” Jake cringed inwardly, on Ryan’s behalf.
Sabrina frowned at the laptop, tucking a strand of long red hair behind her ear. “I suck at writing. I freeze up. Ryan’s one of the best writers in the class, that’s why I asked him to help me. I don’t know how to do this, especially this, like, a eulogy. It’s too hard.”
Jake felt a stab of guilt. “I’m sorry about your loss. Was Kathleen a good friend of yours?”
“Not really, because she just came this year, so it wasn’t like I had that much time to get to know her. I’m team captain, and Coach wants me to do it…” Sabrina faltered. “I just can’t believe Kathleen’s really gone. It’s so … weird.”
Ryan looked away.
Jake nodded, pained. “I’m sure it’s difficult. I know.”
Sabrina kept shaking her head. “I’m supposed to give this speech, but I don’t know what to say and I don’t want to say the wrong thing. I can’t speak in front of all of those people. Kathleen’s mom is going to be there and her father, and my parents and everybody in the school will be there, waiting for me to say something, and I mean, everything I write sounds lame.” Sabrina deflated, and her gaze returned to the laptop. “But I still have to write this speech, and I don’t know what to say. I don’t have that much time left and what I wrote so far really sucks.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Ryan motioned at the laptop. “You have a good start.”
“Argh.” Sabrina moaned. “No I don’t, and Coach said it has to be, like, three hundred words. I only have forty words so far, and I worked on it the entire study hall. I can’t do it. Mr. Buckman, can you help?”
“Sure.” Jake faked an encouraging smile.
“I’ll read you what I have so far.” Sabrina hunched over the laptop. “First, and this doesn’t count for the words, I have to introduce myself and say thank you to everyone for coming, like to the faculty and families. Right?”
“Right.”
“Okay. Then, I say,” Sabrina read from the laptop, “‘The Lady Chasers and Concord Chase High School in general suffered an extremely tragic loss when Kathleen Lindstrom was killed last Friday night in a horrible hit-and-run accident. Everybody loved Kathleen, who was friendly, outgoing, an asset to our team, a great hurdler, and fun to be with.’” She looked up. “Mr. Buckman, what do you think?”
“That’s a great start.” Jake was trying to say something helpful, but the words practically lodged in his throat. “Keep going.”
“But I don’t know what to write next. I’m sucking. I can’t do this.” Sabrina buckled her lower lip. “It’s so horrible that she died and it’s even worse that the guy didn’t even stop and see if she was okay. People like that should be shot. I should say that, I should give a speech about that.”
“No, just keep going. You can do it. Write what you feel.”
“I can’t write what I feel. I feel sad and weirded out, that’s all. We all are, so sad. I don’t know how we’ll run without her. We’ll lose to Methacton for sure. Nobody wants to run. I think we should cancel the meet. We just cry, like, all the time. Her wake is tomorrow, and we’re going in uniform, like a tribute to her.”
Jake felt terrible and he knew Ryan did, too. “Then write about Kathleen. Write about what she was like, as a person.”
“That’s what I tried to do, but I can’t.” Sabrina sighed again. “That’s why I said she was friendly and nice and everything, but I didn’t know her that well, and we weren’t that friendly, then she got tight with Courtney and Sarah and Janine Mae. I’m not good at giving speeches, anyway. I can’t do this. I should’ve told Coach that I can’t do it and it’s really too important and I’m failing at it, epically.”
Ryan shook his head. “No, you’re not. You’re doing fine.”
“I’m not, I suck out loud! I’m going to let everyone down!”
Ryan shrugged. “Why don’t you tell a story about her? Sometimes if you tell a story about somebody, that tells the audience something about them. Like we studied about in The Great Gatsby. People tell stories about Gatsby before you even meet him.”
“Great idea,” Jake said, grateful. “It will cheer them up, too.”
“Och.” Sabrina dropped her chin into her palm. “There’s a lot of stories about her, but I don’t know if they’re good enough to tell.”
“Like what?” Ryan asked, swallowing visibly.
“Like she really liked to sing on the bus, and she had a good voice, but that’s not good enough.” Sabrina cocked her head. “Well, also, she was superhot and all the guys on the boys’ team really liked her, but that’s not a good story to tell at something like this, either. Right, Ryan?” Sabrina turned to him, knitting her forehead. “Like remember when Sam and Caleb, they both asked her to the Halloween dance? That’s not a good story, is it?”
“No.” Ryan flushed.
Jake stepped in to rescue him. “Sabrina, I think Ryan means you should tell a story about her, about something she did.”
“Oh, right. Totally.”
Sabrina thought a moment. “She was really good with computer graphics, and she made an awesome website for the travel track team. It had animated gifs and everything.” Sabrina brightened, straightening in her chair. “In fact, oh, I have a good story, a better one. There was the time she raised the money to buy shirts for the travel team, that’s a good story. We all had the same singlets, but our gym bags and T-shirts didn’t match. We never looked as good as the other travel teams, like Great Valley always looked awesome. They even had matching scrunchies, blue-and-white.”
Ryan nodded, with a shaky smile. “Good. Then tell that.”
“But that’s not the story. Your dad said tell a story about her, like something she did. That doesn’t tell what she did. I didn’t get to that part yet.”
“Okay.” Ryan pursed his lips, and Jake could see that was the last thing he wanted to know. He prayed Ryan could get through tonight and the next few weeks. Jake would never forgive himself if Ryan tried to hurt himself. He’d quit Gardenia and go on twenty-four-hour suicide watch, if that’s what it took.
“Anyway, Kathleen got everybody together and she got this idea where we would stuff envelopes for free to get the money for the T-shirts, and we all worked together and we had the money in, like, four weekends, all because of her.” Sabrina brightened. “And the coolest thing was that we all had fun, like we weren’t doing another stupid bake sale or standing out in front of the Acme, begging for money in front of an oaktag sign, like we were Brownies or something. It was like we worked for our T-shirts, all of us together, the way a team should be. It was a really different idea and she thought it up herself.” Sabrina stopped abruptly, her smile fading. “Except she won’t even get to see the gym bags. They didn’t come in yet. We got the T-shirts and the scrunchies, but the gym bags take longer. She’ll never get to see them … now.”