Keep Quiet (35 page)

“God knows.” Jake masked his panic. If Detective Zwerling was making a connection between Kathleen’s death and Voloshin’s murder, he could have been here scanning the crowd for Voloshin’s killer. And the trail could lead to Slater, or to Pam. Maybe even to Ryan.

“Kathleen’s mother is very upset about Voloshin’s murder.” Detective Zwerling took another drag of his Merit. “She considered him a friend of the family. He took a real interest in Kathleen. Taught her coding, Flash, animated gifs. Whatever that is. I’m no techie expert.”

“Me, neither.” Jake couldn’t see the crowd beyond the TV klieglights. Cars were leaving the lot where the BMW was parked, and he couldn’t tell if the BMW was still there. He felt his chances slipping away and he couldn’t let that happen.

“I’m a detective twenty-two years. That’s my expertise and—”

“Excuse me.” Jake brandished his phone like a weapon. “I really have to make that call.”

“Right.” Detective Zwerling cocked his head, blowing smoke out to the side. “Why don’t we reconvene tomorrow morning? You free at nine? I’ll come by the office with Woohoo.”

“No, I’m busy.”

“When are you free? I’ll work around.”

“I’m not sure.” Jake knew he needed a lawyer. He’d call Hubbard ASAP. “Tomorrow’s not good for me, but I can give you a call, maybe Thursday.”

“Too late.” Detective Zwerling pursed his lips, his cigarette forgotten. “Jake, I gotta say, I believe you know more than you’re letting on.”

“No, not at all.” Jake felt his mask start to slip. He remembered the photo of the BMW’s license plate he had in his phone. It would be so easy to show it to Detective Zwerling and tell him everything. It was Jake’s last chance to do the right thing. They could catch Voloshin’s killer together, whether it was Slater or not.

“Really?” Detective Zwerling eyed him through the flimsy curtain of smoke. “You sure? You’re jumpy.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jake answered, getting a grip. He couldn’t come clean without exposing Ryan, himself, and Pam. He used to care about justice, but now he cared only about his family. He used to know the difference between right and wrong, but all he knew now was that he loved Pam and Ryan, above all else. And he had to get to the BMW before its driver did.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Fine,” Jake told him, turning away. He walked toward the BMW parking lot and got close enough to see that the BMW was still there, though cars on either side of it were gone. He pressed a button on his phone for show and held it to his ear, as if he were talking. Detective Zwerling would still be watching him, though for all the detective knew, Jake could have been walking toward his own car. Suddenly red taillights went on in the back of the BMW, and the sedan began to pull away.

“No!” Jake heard himself say, holding the phone to his ear. He couldn’t run after the car. He couldn’t do anything that looked suspicious. He must have missed Slater or whoever it was when they passed on the far side of the TV klieglights. Then he realized he could still get a glimpse of the driver, when the BMW turned around and joined the line of traffic to the main exit.

But it didn’t.

Jake gritted his teeth as the BMW drove away, straight across the emptying parking lot toward the exit at the middle school, one of a slew of other drivers who wanted to get out faster.

“Damn it! Damn, damn, damn!” Jake turned around to see Detective Zwerling, standing alone under the canopy among the crowd of families. The TV klieglights reflected off the cigarette smoke that wreathed him, reducing him to a blurry silhouette.

Jake didn’t see Slater in the crowd, but he couldn’t wait any longer. His plan was blown, and he needed damage control. Detective Zwerling would be wondering what he was doing. Pam’s car was parked nearby, and he walked to it casually, while he scrolled to the text function on his phone and texted Pam:

I’m at ur car. Take Ryan out back door. Cops out front. Talk to no one! BE CAREFUL!

Chapter Forty-four

“Ryan, how are you doing?” Jake asked, as soon as Sabrina had gotten out of the car and closed the door behind her. Pam reversed slowly out of the driveway, stalling until Sabrina got inside her house safely, but Jake was really worried about Ryan. The ride had been mostly silent, with Pam keeping her eyes on the road, Sabrina texting with her friends, and Ryan looking out the window, plugged into his white earbuds.

Ryan didn’t answer, so Jake twisted around in his seat to see if he was texting. He still wasn’t, oddly. He had pulled his hoodie on and seemed almost immobile, except for the jostling of the car as it bobbled over the Belgian blocks that marked the end of Sabrina’s driveway. His iPhone sat ignored in his lap, and his face remained turned to the window, though there was nothing he hadn’t seen before, only older stone Tudor homes that lined Baird Road, in the exclusive Chase Run neighborhood that served as the model for their development.

“Ryan? You okay?” Jake asked again.

“Let it go,” Pam snapped, then her lips resealed shut.

“I want to know how he’s doing.” Jake kept his tone soft.

“How the hell do you think he’s doing? Does he have to spell it out?”

“Fine,” Jake said after a moment, then faced front in the passenger seat. He didn’t want to bug Ryan, and Pam had been looking daggers at him from the moment she met him at her car. He didn’t have to ask why. The memorial service must have been awful for them both. He hadn’t had a chance to explain why he’d texted her because the kids had been there. He’d have to fill her in when they were alone, assuming she wasn’t leaving him.

Just my luck.

Jake tried to shoo his father’s voice from his head, but he wasn’t succeeding. He turned his face to the window in the silent car, idly watching the beautiful homes passing darkly. Warm, golden light shone from within, through iron lattice on arched windows, illuminating spacious family rooms behind tall leafy oak trees. It was a clear night and the moon was almost full, a jagged hole shot through a black sky, glimmering on the SUVs below.

Pam seemed to accelerate, driving faster than usual through the winding streets, and Jake reached instinctively for the hanger strap, as if it could tether him to the world he knew and loved. He could lose his wife tonight, and his son was too upset to talk to him. His family was slipping through his very fingers and the only thing in his hand was a fake plastic strap.

He couldn’t remember when he had felt this low, and the answer was never. Not even when he’d lost his job, because he still had Pam and Ryan. All he had lost then was money, but he still had a family and that was everything, at the end of the day. It struck him then that he really wasn’t like his father, after all. Because his father had always had his family, but no money, and thought that was nothing. But Jake knew better. He had seen it from both sides, and he knew what he was losing. Everything.

Jake flashed on Detective Zwerling and felt a new bolt of fear. He would need to get ahold of Hubbard and get some advice right away. He didn’t know what to expect from the police or how to react, and he couldn’t afford to slip up and arouse suspicion that would up the ante on an investigation. He would have to explain to Pam about the BMW and his suspicions about Slater, as well as how he had blown it when he had a chance to catch the driver.

Jake, Pam, and Ryan made it home, got out of the car, walked to the house and unlocked the door, still without saying a word to each other. They piled into the entrance hall, a tense and sorrowful threesome, tossing jackets and purses onto the chair beside the console table. Only Moose was his usual happy self, trotting from the kitchen to greet them, smiling with his tongue lolling out of his mouth and wagging his feathery tail.

“Ryan, you all right?” Jake tried again, but Ryan lumbered past him to the stairwell, his head still covered by the hoodie and his ears plugged with the earbuds.

Pam interjected, “Jake, please, let me talk to him—”

“Honey, I can talk to my own son. You can’t be my proxy, remember?” Jake hurried up the stairway after Ryan. Moose joined the chase, delighted at the new game, his toenails clicking on the hardwood stairs.

“I don’t want to talk.” Ryan kept walking upstairs. “I want to be alone.”

Pam hurried up after Jake. “Jake, stop, you’re going about it all wrong.”

Jake ignored her. “Ryan, unplug those things from your ears. Please, let’s—”

“No.” Ryan kept going, and Jake caught up with him, placing a hand on his shoulder as they both reached the landing.

“Ryan, I know you feel bad—”

“Dad, stop, you don’t know.” Ryan whirled around, yanking the earbuds from his ears. “I’m not blaming you and I’m not mad at you, that’s why I don’t want to talk right now. But I can promise you one thing for sure—that you do
not
know how I feel, either of you.”

Jake’s heart broke at the anguish on Ryan’s face, but there was a new tone in his voice, stronger.

Pam reached the top of the stairs, her fair skin flushed with emotion. “Ryan, please, just listen—”

“No, Mom.
I
was the one who killed her, not Dad and not you.” Ryan stabbed his finger into his chest with conviction. “
I
was the one everybody was hating on tonight, the one who took her from her friends, from Janine Mae and the rest of the team. And from her computer teacher and her
mom,
and her
dad,
and they both loved her so much they were in this big custody fight over her—”

Pam moaned. “Ryan, I know, but I’m worried about you—”

“Mom, it’s not about me. It’s about her. You want me to be happy, but can Kathleen? Can she? She’s not going to prom or the meet against Methacton. She won’t be going to college. She won’t even see the
gym bags
she wanted so bad. It’s not about me, in the end. I’m
alive.
She’s not. She’s
dead,
and
I killed her.
”

“But not on purpose—” Pam started to say, but Ryan cut her off with a hand chop.

“What difference does that make, Mom? Did you see her picture on the stage? And the one in the program?
I killed that girl.
So I want to feel
horrible,
I deserve to feel
horrible
. That’s fair, right? Me feeling
horrible forever,
because she’s dead forever.” Ryan paused, dry-eyed, seeming to gather strength from his own words. He backed toward the door of his bedroom, and Moose trotted beside him, his tail still wagging merrily. “You always tell me to take responsibility for my actions, and I am. I’m trying to. I can’t do it in public without Dad going to jail, but I can do it privately. So don’t freak out because I’m not happy. I’m
not supposed
to be happy. I’m supposed to feel exactly how I feel. It’s the least I can do. For
her
.”

Jake felt frightened. He had never seen Ryan this way, determined to self-destruct.

Pam sagged against the banister, stricken. “But Ryan, Caleb’s mom said that you were saying something about dying, that sometimes you felt so bad that you wanted to die.”

Jake turned to Ryan, horrified. “Is that true? Did you say that?”

“Of course.” Ryan almost smiled. “
Of course
. Honestly, I wish I were dead, not her. I wish I could give up my life for hers, right now. Maybe I can. Maybe I will. Nobody gets away with murder.
Nobody.
”

Pam gasped. “Ryan, no. It wasn’t murder—”

Ryan snorted. “How is it different, Mom? I’m not talking about some stupid legal definition. She’s dead, and I killed her. I deserve to die. I wish I were dead.”

“No, Ryan!” Jake cried out. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that!”

“Leave me alone, go away.” Ryan reached his bedroom door, fumbled with the knob, and then turned back to face them. “Also Mom, tell your boyfriend to leave me the hell alone.” Ryan turned back, went inside his room with the dog, and closed the door behind him.

Jake faced Pam, angry. “What is he talking about, ‘your boyfriend’?”

“Jake, not now.” Pam raked her manicured hand through her hair.

“Yes, now. Tell me.”

Pam sighed, weary. She couldn’t meet his eye. “Dave wants to start seeing Ryan, professionally. Caleb told him what Ryan said, too. Dave thinks Ryan is becoming depressed and it would help to talk to him, as a therapist—”

“Are you
kidding
me?” Jake exploded. “Dave said that to Ryan?”

“To both of us, before the service. He’s only trying to help him—”

“Doesn’t that violate some ethical code? He was
sleeping
with you! Or
is
!”

“No, it’s over, I told you.”

“Then where were you last night? Did you go to him?”

“No, I stayed in a hotel—”

“Thank God for small favors!” Jake charged down the stairs. “The
balls
on this guy!
Enough!
I’ve had enough of Dr. Dave! I want him out of my life! Out of my family!”

“Jake, what are you doing?” Pam called after him. “Don’t go over there. You can’t. His wife is in town.”

“So what?” Jake hit the entrance hall and grabbed the car keys from the console table. “It’s between me and him!”

“Jake, don’t do anything crazy!”

Jake flung open the door and rushed outside.

Chapter Forty-five

Jake’s blood boiled as he drove along Dr. Dave’s street, a single lane that snaked through dark woods, filled with towering evergreens and oak trees. There were no other houses on the street, much less painted mailboxes, holiday flags, or recycle bins that had to be rolled away by nightfall. Of course Dr. Dave lived in the Pendleton Tract, a beautiful hundred wooded acres under easement to the county, never to be developed. Jake hated that the man who cuckolded him had evergreens that weren’t planted in a zigzag pattern.

He turned onto Dr. Dave’s driveway and parked behind his Prius, in front of a house that was predictably spectacular, an ultramodern series of glass-walled boxes with concrete edges and flat rooflines, situated on at least six wooded acres. Jake cut the ignition, blood pounding in his ears. He’d had only a single second thought on the drive over, which was about Dr. Dave’s wife. He didn’t want to tell her that her jerk of a husband was cheating on her. That would hurt her the way he’d been hurt, so he’d have to make sure she was out of the way, to avoid collateral damage.