Over Her Head (11 page)

Laurie opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

“Those girls on the bridge are yellin’ and she’s yellin’ and I can hear it right through the car windows, and the next thing
you know, somebody pushes someone else real hard and over she goes.”

“Who? Who pushes?”

“I don’t know, but this girl does a cartwheel off the bridge and I’m thinkin’, man, that’s gonna be one cold landing, and
Anna runs under the bridge and I don’t see what happens after that, because Kelci sees me and I get her in the car and we
go home. We just made it, too, ’cause I picked Mama up at eleven sharp and she never knew a thing.”

“What—”

But Vanessa wasn’t finished. “So then Friday I’m at the restaurant and somebody leaves their paper and there’s this thing
about you finding that girl in the river. And I thought, it can’t be the same girl, ’cause I never saw it clear, you know.
It was just a shape with arms and legs going over. I thought she’d just swim to shore and no harm done except maybe she’d
catch a cold.” She glanced sideways at Laurie. “You think it was the same girl?”

Anna wasn’t out that night. Anna wasn’t involved. Vanessa had seen someone else.

She had to say something sensible. “I’m pretty sure it was.”

“You think Kelci will get in trouble if I go to the police?”

And have them find out that maybe Anna had been there after all? And that she’d run down under the bridge after Randi had
fallen? Making her maybe the last person to see Randi alive? The last person to see someone alive was always a prime suspect,
wasn’t she? Nobody ever assumed that person was simply trying to help.

No, no, no. Anna had been in her room. Everyone knew that. So it didn’t matter if Vanessa went to the police or not. She had
evidence, and it could be important. The pushing part was important. Someone else had done that. Not Anna.

“Mrs. Hale?”

Laurie blinked and behind Vanessa’s slouched form, she saw that the kids were pouring out of the elementary school and scattering
to the various cars. Tim and KeShawn were horsing around and bumping each other off the sidewalk, completely careless of the
black instrument cases dangling from their fingers.

“Will Kelci get in trouble?”

Laurie prodded her brain into coherent thought. “Not unless she was the one doing the pushing.”

“No, it wasn’t her. I’m sure of that.”

“Did you see who it was?” she asked again.

Vanessa shook her head. The boys were twenty feet away now. “It was pretty chaotic. Somebody tall, I think.”

“I think you should talk to Nick. He’s a good guy.”

“Yeah, I know. He comes into the restaurant all the time. Reuben sandwich, extra fries.”

“But, Vanessa, Anna wasn’t—”

Tim jerked open the door, fell into the backseat, and slammed it in KeShawn’s face, giggling like an escapee from the local
asylum. “Mom! KeShawn’s spitting on me!”

Vanessa opened the door and looked over her shoulder at Laurie. “What?”

The words froze in Laurie’s throat. Anna hadn’t been there. It didn’t matter what Vanessa said to Nick, facts were facts.
“Nothing. I think you should talk to him soon.”

“I will. Maybe even tonight.”

Vanessa closed the door, and Laurie glanced back to make sure Tim was buckled in. Then she backed out of the parking space
and took off down the county road as if the entire police force were after her.

“What are you trying to do, Ma, try out for the Indy 500?”

Laurie glanced at the speedometer. “Good grief.” She lifted her foot from the pedal and the minivan slowed by about thirty
miles an hour.

“Good thing Nick isn’t around,” her son informed her. “He’d have got you for that.”

With an effort, she relaxed her grip on the wheel and tried to slow her heart rate, too. “Thanks, sweetie. I needed the reminder.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” Tim’s eyes crinkled with mischief behind his shaggy skater-boy hair. “I want to see Nick
give you a ticket.”

“Just remember, what goes around comes around. When you get your license, Nick won’t cut you any breaks just because you’re
family.”

Her mouth said mom things while her mind galloped down the road like a frightened horse, trying to outrun its shadow.

Not Anna. Not Anna. She was at home in bed. Everything is all right. Vanessa couldn’t see clearly. Couldn’t see who pushed,
couldn’t see who fell, couldn’t see who was running under the bridge.

We’re okay. We’re okay.

“Mom, you’re going to miss the turn.”

Instinctively she spun the wheel and made the right turn to the high school with no signal and just inches to spare. Behind
her, someone honked in irritation and drove through with a rev of his engine.

Get a grip.

They pulled into the parking lot at a sedate ten miles per hour and merged into the line where the kids congregated while
they waited for buses and parents. Anna waved good-bye to Kelci Platt and Rose Silverstein and climbed into the front seat.

Kelci was there that night.

Laurie resisted the urge to collar the girl and ask her whether it was true Anna had been there, too. But that was ridiculous.
Vanessa had simply seen another teenager with shoulder-length dark hair and made a mistake.

But the problem with mistakes was that once you took them to the police, they weren’t treated as mistakes anymore. They were
treated as legitimate possibilities until proven otherwise.

Laurie unbuckled her seat belt and tossed it to the side. “Stay here.” Both kids looked mystified as she got out of the minivan
and crossed the sidewalk to where Kelci waited, presumably for Vanessa.

“Kelci, can I talk to you for a second?”

The girl looked uncomfortable, as if being seen talking to somebody’s mother was a social faux pas on the same level as walking
down the hall with toilet paper stuck to your shoe.

“Um, sure.”

“I hear you were on the bridge last Wednesday night.”

Something behind Kelci’s chocolate-brown eyes flickered closed, like the shutter on a camera. “Where’d you hear that?”

“It doesn’t matter. What you do is your mom’s business, not mine. But I need to know something.”

“I don’t want to talk about that night, Mrs. Hale.” Kelci slid one step sideways, as if she were getting ready to duck and
run. “Here comes my ride.”

“I just need you to tell me if Anna was there too.”

A silky black eyebrow rose as Kelci glanced from Anna in the backseat of the minivan, looking mortified, to Laurie. “Why don’t
you ask her?”

“I already have. I want to hear it from you.”

“Naw, she wasn’t there.”

Your sister says different.
But Laurie bit back the words. If Vanessa was going to the police, the fewer people who knew she’d been talking to the older
girl, the better. Besides, this was exactly what Laurie wanted to hear. She should be glad.

“Thanks, sweetie. I appreciate your being candid with me.”

“No problem, Mrs. Hale.”
Time for you to go back on your meds, Mrs. Hale
, her tone said. As soon as Vanessa pulled up in the Camry, Kelci hopped into the car and locked the door.

When she got back in the van, Anna leaned sideways against the restraint of her seat belt, watching Vanessa pull away. “What’s
up, Mom? What were you asking Kelci?”

Laurie put the van into reverse and didn’t answer until they were on the road. “I was just doing a little fact-checking, that’s
all.”

“About what?”

Laurie had nothing to hide. Anna would call Kelci as soon as she got home, anyway. “I just heard some confusing stories about
what happened on the bridge the other night. I asked Kelci what happened and she told me. No biggie.”

“You asked her what happened? Why, was she there?”

Laurie glanced at her daughter in the rearview mirror. “I think you know she was.”

“Why do you say that? I wasn’t there. How should I know?”

“I assume you guys talk.”

Anna snorted. “Not about this.”

“Why not?”

But Anna didn’t answer. Laurie glanced at her and saw that she was staring through the front window, her face as rigid as
bone.

“Mom, don’t go home this way.”

“We go home this way every day. What’s the matter?”

“Don’t. Not anymore. Go through downtown, okay?”

They were approaching the bridge, with one traffic light to go. “Anna, don’t be silly. That’s two or three extra miles. Why
would I want to do that?”

“Mom, I’m asking you. Please don’t go over the bridge. I just can’t.”

“Why?” The light turned green.

“Mom!” Anna’s cry was the sound of a baby bird, shrieking in terror as the predator pounces.

For the second time that afternoon, Laurie spun the wheel and made a right turn, which took them down the road behind the
Stop-N-Go and along the river to the next bridge in the middle of town.

“Anna Catherine Hale, stop it. There is no reason for you to be scared of that bridge. Yes, a tragedy happened there. But
nothing is going to happen to you.”

Silence. Laurie glanced to her right as they drove past the shops and businesses of downtown Glendale. Anna’s slender body
shook as she tried to hold in the sobs. Tears streaked her cheeks.

“Did you hear me, sweetie? Are you all right?”

But Anna buried her face in the sleeve of her coat and didn’t answer.

“Anna, please. It’s just a bridge. There are no ghosts there. Nothing to be afraid of.”

“That’s what y—you think.”

“What does that mean?”

Silence, except for a sniffle.

“Anna, what’s going on here that I don’t know about?”

But Anna turned her face away to look out the window, and no amount of cajoling or threatening would make her explain what
she meant.

C
ammie picked up
Tanya and brought her to Bible study the next morning, and Laurie ticked off another item on her mental “Taking Care of Tanya”
list. It had enough items on it to cover the rest of the week. After that, they’d regroup and see if Tanya still needed them
as much.

Normally, Laurie would have loved being needed like this. She’d always considered it a form of creativity to try to make life
better for other people. But lately the needs of other people were becoming a burden and a distraction—all she wanted to do
was focus on the needs of her daughter.

Was that a bad thing? That was normal, wasn’t it—to want to dig down and find what was hurting your child so you could remove
the thorn from her flesh and help her heal? Laurie had come to Bible study this morning hoping to find just that kind of help.
Not just in a spiritual sense, either, but in a very practical, natural sense.

Janice Edgar held the key.

After the study of their psalm (“Maybe we can skip ahead to something joyful, for Tanya’s sake,” Maggie had suggested), Laurie
cornered Janice in the hallway while they waited for Debbie to come out of the old house’s only bathroom.

With her toe, Laurie tucked a patchwork door dog against the door as she spoke. “I meant to call you after we talked on Tuesday,
but things have been a little crazy.”

Janice smiled. Was this the politician’s wife smile, Laurie wondered, or a real one? She couldn’t tell.

“I know what you mean. It was my night to be with Tanya last night, so I wouldn’t have been home anyway. I was glad for the
chance to get to know her a little better.”

Laurie tried to imagine Janice, perfectly groomed and wearing tasteful slacks that would probably scream if they ever saw
a speck of lint or pet fur, getting chummy with Tanya in her awful little apartment.

“I wanted to talk with you about the night Randi was killed.”

Janice stared at her. “Why?”

“I need to get some facts straight. Do you have any plans for lunch?”

“Well, no, but I should—”

“Great!” The bathroom door opened and Debbie came out. “How about going to the Split Rail? Can I meet you there?”

“Well, okay, but—”

Laurie slipped into the bathroom and closed the door, and when she came out, Janice’s car was gone. It took five minutes to
drive over to the Split Rail, an old-fashioned diner with aluminum trim, a flashing red neon sign, and a miniature jukebox
at each table. It was homey and welcoming and lent itself to long conversations—perfect for her purposes. She found Janice
at a table by the big center window (who had to move when the mayor’s wife asked for it?) and slid in opposite her.

Janice ordered a Cobb salad and Laurie chose a Monte Cristo sandwich, ordering coleslaw on the side at the last minute instead
of fries. When the waitress left, Janice looked her in the eye.

“All right. Spill it. What is it you want to know?”

There was no use in playing dumb. That wasn’t Laurie’s style. “I’m scared stiff that Anna is involved somehow in what happened
on the bridge,” she blurted. “I want you to tell me it’s ridiculous and that of course she wasn’t there.”

Janice sipped her hot tea and regarded Laurie over the rim of the cup. “I wish I could make you feel better, but I’m in exactly
the same boat. The only problem is, I know for certain Kyle was there.”

Laurie tried to keep her jaw from dropping. “How?”

Janice put her cup down, and a little of the liquid slopped over the side into the saucer. “Because half a dozen kids were
only too happy to tell the sheriff’s office that the mayor’s son was up on that bridge. I hate that our family is in the spotlight
all the time, no matter what we do. If he’d been the son of just about anyone else, no one would have even seen him, much
less cared.”

“Oh.” Their food arrived, and Laurie gathered her wits while she poked at her coleslaw. How could she put this delicately?
“Did you know he was out that night?”

Janice made a sound that Laurie was sure was not part of the etiquette manual for mayors’ wives. “Of course not. Like a total
idiot, I told the sheriff’s deputies that my darling boy was tucked up in bed and couldn’t possibly have been involved. Only
to have my ignorance and lousy mothering skills exposed for everyone to see when the real story came out.” Another glance
shot across the table like a laser. “You have no idea how difficult my life is right now. Going over to Tanya’s last night
was a huge relief. She didn’t ask ridiculous questions, and her phone didn’t ring once.”