The Wreck (20 page)

“Hello, Tom,” Carly said with a small
smile.

“Wow,” he said, amazed. “You sound just
like Caren.”

Carly screwed up her face. “I do
not!”

“Ah, yeah, you do.”

“Do I, Mom?”

Carol chuckled at their banter and held
up her hands. “I’m not getting into this one.”

“I’ll forgive you,” Carly said to Tom,
“because there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long, long
time.”

“And what’s that?”

“You’re a good guy, Tom Murphy, and my
sister is lucky to have you. We all are.” Carly went up on tiptoes to kiss his
cheek, which had gone red with embarrassment.

“Thank you,” he mumbled.

“How’s Zoë doing?” Carly asked.

“Awful.” He shook his head. “What the
hell do you tell a fourteen-year-old about something like this?”

“The truth,” Carly said without
hesitation. “You tell her the truth, because if you don’t, she’ll hear it from
someone whose parents told
them
the truth.”

“That’s what Cate said, too.”

“Can I see her?”

“She’s in her room. You just missed Cate.
She took Steve and Lilly over to Caren’s for the day so we can focus on Zoë.”

“If she asks me what I saw, what do you
want me to tell her?” Carly asked.

Tom studied her for a moment before he
said, “As much of the truth as you think she can handle, I guess.”

With a nod, Carly climbed the stairs to
Zoë’s room. She was in bed with the curtains drawn. Carly knocked softly on the
door. “Can I come in?”

“
Oh
,” Zoë gasped, sitting up in
bed.

Carly was grateful to her miracle for
giving her niece a moment’s reprieve from her grief.

“My mom said you’d gotten your voice
back, but to hear it…”

Carly slid under the covers next to her.
“Your dad says I sound like Auntie Caren. What do you think?”

“Maybe a little.”

Carly poked her in the ribs. “Do not.”

Zoë’s smile was small and pained.

“Can I tell you something I’ve wished I
could tell you at least a million times over the last fourteen years?”

Zoë nodded.

“I love you so much. From the first
instant I ever saw you, you’ve had my heart.”

Zoë broke down and slumped into Carly’s outstretched
arms.

“Why did this have to happen?” Zoë
whispered as she shook with brokenhearted sobs.
“Why?”

“I don’t know. I wish I could tell you. I
asked myself that same question over and over again after my friends died.
Sometimes I still wonder.”

“My dad said you were the one who found
her.”

“Yes.”

“Was it bad?”

Carly nodded and was grateful that Zoë
didn’t ask for more.

“I want him to die for doing this to
her,” Zoë said fiercely. “Does that make me a bad person?”

“No, honey. That’s a natural response to
something like this. You want the person who did it to pay. Chief Westbury, the
police, and the FBI are doing everything they can to find him. And when they
do, they’ll make sure he pays.” Carly wasn’t sure who she was trying to
convince, herself or Zoë. “He’ll pay.”

“Am I ever going to feel good again,
Auntie Carly?” she asked in a small, shattered voice.

Carly took a deep breath. “It might take
a while, but one day you’ll wake up and be surprised when you actually notice
the sun is out, the fireflies are back, and the jasmine’s in bloom.” Her heart
ached as she was flooded with memories of a long-ago summer when she had been
the heartbroken young girl. In a whisper, she added, “One day you
will
feel better, but that won’t mean you’ve forgotten Alicia. It only means life
goes on. Even when you think it can’t possibly, somehow it just does.”

“Is that how it was for you?”

“That’s exactly how it was for me.”

“And you lost
six
friends. I can’t
imagine that. One is bad enough.”

“Grief doesn’t come in sizes, honey.”

“Do you still miss them?”

“Every day, but I tell myself that by
missing them, I’m keeping them alive, even if it’s only in my heart and mind.
Does that make sense?”

Zoë nodded.

Carly held Zoë close to her for a long
time until she realized the girl had drifted into a restless sleep. She eased
Zoë’s head onto a pillow and watched her sleep. Her face was puffy and red from
crying, which infuriated Carly. That the same man was probably responsible for
both their tragedies… They had to find him—and soon. Enough was enough.

Carly
was on edge all day. A steady stream of people dropped by her parents’ house to
check on her. Molly and Debby came after the coffee shop closed for the day.
They were still there when Matt Collins and Agent Nathan Barclay arrived to
take a statement from Carly about what she had seen at the lake.

They also grilled Debby about the call
she had taken from the man pretending to be Chief Westbury.

“He sounded just like him,” Debby
insisted. “It never occurred to me that it wasn’t him. I’m so sorry, Carly.”
Debby’s soft brown eyes filled with tears. “If anything had happened to you…”

“I’m fine,” Carly assured her friend.

They stared at her every time she opened
her mouth. She supposed it would take some time before they got used to hearing
her talk and stopped staring.

Molly and Debby left a short time later.
While Carly recounted her story to Matt and Agent Barclay, the doorbell rang
again. This time it was a neighbor bringing over brownies. Carly hated that she
was waiting for Brian and that every time the caller wasn’t him, she had to
absorb a fresh wave of disappointment.
So much for not getting my hopes up
.

“How’s Chief Westbury?” she asked Matt.

“He’s doing great. He passed all the
heart tests, so they sent him home with orders to take it easy for a few days.”

“That’s a huge relief.”

“From what Mary Ann told me, he’s been
desperately worried about you, though,” Matt added. “I’m sure you’ll hear from
him.”

Agent Barclay handed Carly his card. “Give
me a call if you think of anything else.”

“I will.”

Carly’s mother showed them out and then
came back to the living room. “What do you feel like having for dinner?
Anything you want.”

“I miss your meatloaf,” Carly confessed.

“Then meatloaf it is. Do you think maybe
you could try to take a nap before dinner? You look beat.”

“I am.” She stretched out on the sofa.

Carol spread a light blanket over her.

Carly smiled at her. “You’re spoiling me
rotten, Mother.”

“And enjoying every minute of it. Go to
sleep.”

While Carly dozed on the sofa, the phone
rang a couple of times, and her father came home. Before she knew it, her
mother was shaking her awake. “Honey? Dinner’s ready.”

Carly sat up and tried to emerge from the
deep sleep she had fallen into.

“Do you feel any better?”

“Yeah,” she said with a big yawn.

“Chief Westbury called while you were
sleeping. He really wants to see you. I told him we’d take a walk over after
dinner.”

Startled, Carly looked up at her mother.

“That is, if you feel up to it.”

“Of course I do,” Carly responded in what
she hoped was a light, breezy tone. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Carol snorted with laughter as she folded
the blanket and returned it to the back of the sofa. “Whatever you say.”

C
arly took a shower after dinner. She told
herself it was because she’d woken up hot and sweaty after her nap, but she
knew better. Brushing her long curls until they were shiny and soft, she
studied her reflection in the mirror.
I wonder what he’ll see when he looks
at me. What will I see when I look at him? Will he have changed so much I won’t
recognize my Brian in the man he is now? Will he think I’ve changed, too? Maybe
he
won’t recognize
me
.

Never one to wear much makeup, she
settled on just a light coating of mascara along with lip gloss and went into
the kids’ room to put on a skirt, sleeveless top, and leather sandals. She
checked herself one last time in a full-length mirror behind the door to
Caren’s old room before she went downstairs.

“You look lovely,” Carol said.

“Not like I went to too much trouble,
though, right?”

“As lovely as always.”

“My heart is pounding, and my palms are
sweaty,” Carly confessed.

Carol reached for Carly’s hands. “I’d be
worried if your palms weren’t sweaty right now.”

“Whose palms are sweaty?” Steve asked as
he joined them by the front door.

Carly tugged back her hands. “No one’s.
Let’s go.”

Carol brought a basket containing the
extra meatloaf she had made for the Westburys as well as some of the brownies
from the neighbor. They stepped into the soft summer evening to make the short
walk.

Seven hundred and eighty-six steps
… Had it ever taken so long to walk seven
hundred and eighty-six steps? By the time they stood in front of the Westbury’s
house, Carly had to remind herself to breathe—in, out, in, out.

Carol must have sensed Carly’s anxiety,
because she slipped an arm around her daughter’s shoulders.

Mary Ann answered the door with a
delighted smile and hugs for all of them.

Carol handed her the basket of food. “So
you won’t have to cook one night.”

“It smells wonderful, Carol! Thank you so
much. Can I get you all something to drink? How about a beer, Steve?”

“I won’t say no to that.”

“That sounds good to me, too,” Carol
said.

“Nothing for me, thanks, Mrs. Westbury,”
Carly said.

“Carly,” Mary Ann said, reaching out to
caress Carly’s cheek. “It’s so good to hear your voice, but you’re old enough
to call me Mary Ann.”

“Isn’t it amazing to hear her talking
again?” Carol asked, her eyes filling with tears that she brushed at with
impatience. “I said I wasn’t going to cry about it anymore, and then here I go
again.”

Steve put a comforting arm around his
wife.

“Come on up.” Mary Ann led them up the
short flight of stairs to the living room where Michael rested in a recliner.

He dropped the footrest and got up. “I
can’t tell you how happy I am to see you, young lady.”

Wondering where the heck Brian was, Carly
crossed the room to the chief and wrapped her arms around him. “You scared me,”
she whispered.

“Right back atcha, honey,” he said, his
voice heavy with emotion. “You shaved about ten years off my life yesterday
afternoon.”

Carly hugged him for a long moment before
she pulled back to study his face. He looked pale, but otherwise there was no
sign of his recent ordeal. “Everything’s all right? With your heart?”

“Hale and hearty,” he said with a smile.

Every nerve in Carly’s body was suddenly
on full alert, and she knew without turning around that Brian was hugging her
mother and shaking hands with her father.

“That’s a relief,” she forced herself to
say to the chief. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

“Not you,
too
,” Michael groaned.
“I thought you and I were friends.”

“We are.” Carly poked him lightly.
“That’s why I want to keep you around for a while.”

“I can’t get over you chattering away like
you never stopped.”

“I’m still getting used to it myself.”

“My son is waiting patiently to say hello
to you,” he whispered loud enough for the whole room to hear him.

“Your son’s here?” she whispered back. “I
hadn’t heard that.”

Everyone laughed, which made it easier
for her to finally turn around. And then there he was—her Brian, only older
and, if possible, even more handsome than she could’ve imagined. Neither the
pictures in the paper nor the TV cameras had done him justice. Feeling as if
all the air had been sucked from her lungs, she stood perfectly still as he
closed the distance between them.

“My mother said you hadn’t changed at
all,” he said. “I didn’t believe that was possible, but it seems she was
right.”

Carly had forgotten how tall he was.
Looking up to find his hazel eyes fixed on her, she had no idea what she was
supposed to do. Overcome by a thousand emotions, she wanted to hug him, kiss
him, hold him, never let him go…

He solved the problem for both of them by
hugging her.

Surprised, Carly was slow to respond. But
then her hands were on his back, and she relaxed against him, willing herself
not to cry.
Not with an audience. Later, maybe, but not now
.