carefully everywhere descending (22 page)

“Get in line,” says Scarlett darkly. Mitchell looks over at her.

“Scarlett, this is Mitchell,” I introduce. “Mitchell, Scarlett. Mitchell, this is my dad. Dad, this is Mitchell. Dad, this is Scarlett. Scarlett, this is my dad. Um… I think I've covered everyone.”

Everyone shakes hands and Dad sizes them both up. This is so surreal, outside in the almost-summer air by an ambulance with police cars and….

Senator Grant, handcuffed and being walked to a cop car before the throng of reporters. He's wearing a spare set of glasses over a taped nose. A short man next to him is running two steps for every one Grant and the cop take, talking frantically.

“I'm telling you, James, we can spin this thing into gold. Are you ready for this? We turn you into a Christ-figure. It's your comeback story: You died, and were reborn as a new man. A man who is dedicated to improving the lives of Americans. A messiah for the people.”

Grant is nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah… yeah…. That could work.”

He abruptly turns his head and finds my eyes across the yard, boring into them while the cop puts a hand on his head to push him into the police car. He doesn't look away as the car slowly drives away, scattering onlookers. I shudder.

“It probably
will
work too,” says Mitchell with a scowl. “Never underestimate the ability of the public to overlook the crimes of the powerful and popular. F—flipping politicians.”

“You're kidding,” exclaims Scarlett. “After what he did to Audrey?”

“They didn't see her, they didn't know her, she'll be nothing but a rumor to them,” he says. “But hey,” he says to me. “Don't you worry. I know a good lawyer who wouldn't dream of getting out of bed for anything less than eating that guy alive in court. She'll take good care of you.”

 

 

I
T
FEELS
like the night that never ends. We go back into the house, and I give my statement in full to Officer Goldberg and another officer, explaining in detail what happened while my dad and Mitchell stand behind me and Scarlett keeps her grip on my hand with no signs of tiring, though it must be practically dead from loss of circulation by now. Mine is.

I hoarsely point out places as I remember them. The door where he half-strangled me. Where he threw me and I stopped sliding and spotted the laundry door, though I didn't know where it went when I first saw it. Where I ran inside and called for help.

I stop to examine the door frame and realize just how busted it is from him breaking it open with his body, the hinges bent and the ancient wood cracked. That might have expended some of his energy and may have contributed to my ability to exhaust him later; though I add quickly that this is speculation and not strictly memory. My voice is rasping more and more as I talk, running slowly out like ink from a drying pen.

I tell how he grabbed me and carried me back and how I fought, and that's when he bit me, and how when I screamed and flailed, I dropped my phone and just hoped that it landed face up. What he said that led to the realization of who he was.

“But you didn't know before then?” clarifies the other cop.

“No. I had just thought he was a strange neighbor, and when he grabbed me I thought he really was a serial killer like we had joked.”

I point to the door where he was starting to drag me when the doorbell rang and stopped him.

“Do you know where that leads to?”

“No, I'm not sure.” But in a house this size, there are only so many possibilities, and I'm reluctant to voice the most obvious one.

I tell how Scarlett came to the door, what she said, what the senator had said to me, and that I realized how my best course would be to stall for time….

“How do you mean?”

Well, I had immediately discounted any scenario that had Scarlett entering the house. Not only could she have been hurt, but it would have given the senator a chance to contain the situation. As soon as I understood who he was, I realized his biggest concern would be being found out. If both Scarlett and I were in the house, there was a chance he could subdue us both and talk away the police who were en route. After all, we don't live in the best area, and domestic disturbance calls tend to happen. It wouldn't take more than a quick disguise and a quicker excuse—TV noise, address error, whatever—for the call to be dismissed. And since I had no way of
knowing
that the line to 9-1-1 was uninterrupted, I had to assume it was.

Therefore I had to get Scarlett, my one
sure
line to the outside world, out and spreading the word. I had overheard the police complaining the last time they had been called in on the Nelsons that the turn at the intersection by Vapiano's fooled them, so I had to account for a delay in the police's arrival. If Scarlett, with her athleticism and sharp eye for cars, could get to my security guard father and get him to the house, or at least make it back to the street, in under five minutes, there was virtually no chance the senator could get me into the car and out of the neighborhood unobserved.

“The car?”

Obviously, since the senator knew that Scarlett was out calling for help, it would be pure foolishness to stay in the house. A retreat would be his next course. I was the only one who'd
seen
him so far. I just had to either 1) hinder him long enough to keep him in the house or 2) create enough of a disturbance to draw attention as he tried to load me into a car to drive away. Of course, I was going to delay as much on the front end as possible, since there was no way to guarantee that he wouldn't go to the kitchen, get a knife, and slit my throat as he had promised. Thus, aerobic thrashing to slow and wear him down and grabbing his glasses to obscure his vision enough to make him question reaching for a knife or attempting to drive a car.

“And you thought of all of this while in the grip of a man who was threatening to kill you?” asks Officer Goldberg.

I try to explain the homework/hunger analogy, but it just makes people look sad instead of like they agree I've learned the value of mind over matter.

“You've got a brave, smart girl there,” says the other officer.

“I know,” say my dad and Scarlett at the same time, and Scarlett doesn't look remotely sorry or embarrassed.

Officer Goldberg gives me her card before she leaves, urging me to contact her with any questions or other memories that occur later. I think I've been pretty thorough, and I'm sure I'll have to repeat it many times for the trial or whatever legal repercussions arise from this, so I'm in no hurry to talk about it again at the moment.

“Are Jimmy and Sam…?” I ask my dad, voice barely a whisper at this point.

“They're guarding your mother.”

I nod, relieved. I'm so tired, but I don't want to let go of Scarlett. Mitchell is on the phone with his lawyer friend, sorting that out for me, which I appreciate. I swallow several times.

“Can— Mr. Anderson, I know this is presumptuous, but can I stay at your house tonight, if I get permission from my parents? I'd really like to make sure Audrey's okay.”

My dad gives Scarlett a thunderous look. “Of course she'll be fine in her own house.”

“I know, I just… I'd really like to be there, sir.”

“Please, Dad?” I rasp.

He looks at me, and I see all the bluster go out of him. “Okay, baby bean. God knows you deserve a little consideration after all you went through tonight. I'll call the school and let them know you won't be in tomorrow. Your parents can make the call on that one,” he says to Scarlett, surprisingly nonaggressive, and I know that that's his stamp of approval or something. “I know this hasn't been easy on you either, hon, but you've been holding it together.”

“Thank you, Mr. Anderson.”

Mitchell comes back and says he's worked everything out with the lawyer, and she's doing this pro bono.

“Oh, no,” I instantly start to protest. He holds up a hand with a long-suffering sigh.

“Listen, Audrey, a big case like this could likely make her name known nationally. If there was any justice in the world, she would be paying
you
for the chance to represent you. Just take it, okay?” I nod and he half grins his approval at me. “If you're set here, I'm going to head back. I just moved into my own apartment, and I still have a lot to unpack. You call if you need me, okay?” I nod again and hold out my arms. He groans like it's the biggest inconvenience of his life but half hugs me quick and tight. “I'll see you, kid.”

We skirt the dwindled crowd without too much trouble and walk back to my house, my dad and Scarlett bracketing me. I've reclaimed Scarlett's hand, and she rubs her thumb over the back of mine absently. I'm not sure she's aware she's doing it.

Jimmy's prowling before our door like a caged tiger. As soon as he spots us, he races down the driveway and reaches for me. I don't want his hands around my upper arms and forestall him by hugging him around the waist with my free arm.

“What happened? What's going on? Is Audrey hurt?” he demands above me, voice rumbling against the ear I have pressed to his chest.

The front door opens and my mom and Sam spill out as well, also overflowing with questions. I'm pulled into a fierce embrace by my mother and lose Scarlett's hand in the process. After hugging Sam as well, I look at Dad.

“Can you…?” I whisper, gesturing toward the rest of my family. I'm hit by exhaustion and my throat and cheek are aching. I just want to put ice on my throat and fall asleep, preferably in Scarlett's arms, but I don't see that happening under my parent's roof. I have an alternative plan, though.

He nods and starts talking to them in a low voice. I pull Scarlett inside.

“I've got to call my parents,” she says apologetically as the door closes.

I nod and whisper, “Okay. I'm getting ready for bed.”

She goes to the kitchen to make the call while I quickly change into my light red pajamas with white stripes, like a candy cane, given to me at Christmas a year ago by my aunt. I brush my teeth and wash my face, carefully, because it's starting to really throb now, and hunt around for a spare toothbrush for Scarlett. We don't have one, and I hope she can make do with toothpaste and her finger.

I come out of the bathroom at the same time as she emerges from the kitchen, stashing her phone in her pocket.

She smiles at me.

“I'm cleared for tonight
and
out of school for tomorrow,” she says before cupping my unhurt cheek in her hand and kissing me so softly it's barely a kiss. We stand like that for a moment. I would like to prolong it into eternity, but my eyes are so heavy I seriously worry about keeling over.

I pull back and whisper, “I want to sleep on the couch. I thought Dad and Jimmy could move my mattress to the floor beside me for you.”

“Sure,” she says, giving me another featherlight kiss before moving away. She goes outside to communicate this to Jimmy while I grab a couple of extra blankets and one of my two pillows for the couch. I'm glad I washed my sheets recently. I make myself a little nest, then go into the kitchen. I find a Ziploc bag and pour a bunch of ice cubes into it. I wrap it with the reindeer towel and rest it against my throat.

I'm walking back to the living room when the front door opens and Jimmy storms in, followed by a frowning Scarlett, followed by my dad, who looks just done with everything. Mom comes in last, world weary, with her arm around Sam's shoulders. Sam appears completely lost.

Jimmy takes one look at me and buckles, just like Dad did earlier.

“Fine! We'll get the mattress,” he says, and gestures to Scarlett to follow him into my room. My dad follows to help. They move my single mattress and sheets to the floor while Mom strokes my hair and starts making a grocery list of my favorites for my dad to run and get. She's going to send him out immediately, but when I see it's two in the morning, I persuade her to wait. I'm not hungry anyway.

With a glower, Jimmy lends Scarlett a pair of old gym shorts and shirt, since she's taller than me and couldn't comfortably wear any of my clothes. I explain the toothbrush situation.

“That's nothing,” Scarlett says with a careless grin. “I used to go camping all the time when I was a kid. I'm used to roughing it.”

“What, so she thinks we're no better than a tent on the ground in the wilderness?” Jimmy asks under his breath as Scarlett disappears into the bathroom. I punch him in the arm.

I snuggle into the couch, and Mom tucks me in and kisses me several times on the forehead. Sam comes and hugs me, still looking a little confused by everything.

“I'm sorry you were hurt,” he says, and I scratch the top of his head in response.

Dad also leans down and gives me a huge hug. It's kinda nice to be doted on like this, though I'd rather not have gone through what it took to get the attention.

Sam and Jimmy go to their bedroom first to get ready for bed, after Mom and Dad discuss if they should keep Sam home tomorrow as well. They finally agree to let the school know Sam will be a couple of hours late to give him a chance to get fully rested. Mom and Dad disappear to their room as the bathroom door opens and Scarlett emerges, the tight shorts and fitted glittery top she'd been wearing bundled in her hand. She's got on Jimmy's old gym shorts and the plain jewel-blue shirt he'd given her.

She drops her clothes at the edge of the mattress and climbs on with almost felinelike grace.

“I'm sorry I ruined our date,” I rasp.

“You didn't ruin our date,” she reassures me. She rears up, bracing her weight on her arms on the edge of the couch, and kisses me. “And we'll make it up. How about Thai for lunch tomorrow? I can order it to be delivered. And maybe you can teach me how to play chess.”