Choker (15 page)

Outside, a white fog hung in the gray early dawn. The outside of the Volvo was pearled with dew, but the heater warmed up fast, and Cara drove down the quiet streets with the hot air blasting her feet. She mulled over the news about Alexis as she slid through the deserted intersections. It seemed weird that she would end her own life so suddenly. Cara always thought people who committed suicide had some sort of plan worked out. But maybe she’d just run away, like Mom said. She turned onto Springfield Pike. The bakery, Frieda’s, had just opened, and a worker was sliding a tray of doughnuts into the window. On impulse, Cara turned into a parking space and killed the engine.

The inside of the tiny shop was warm and filled with the aroma of hot sugar. Cara inhaled as if she were taking a magic elixir. The woman behind the counter had neat gray dreadlocks and wore a wide smile. “Help you?”

“Can I get four glazed doughnuts, two chocolate, and two jelly?” She watched as the woman dropped the pastries into the bag. She’d take them back to Zoe this afternoon to make up for leaving her.
I’m just going to school!
a voice in her head argued.
Not exactly a crime
. Back in the car, she tucked the white paper bag into her duffel, nestling it in the middle of her clothes where it wouldn’t get squashed.

The school parking lot was mostly empty when she arrived—a few lone cars scattered near the entrance, like dogs waiting for their owners to return. Cara hurried through the empty, freshly waxed halls to the training room. She pushed open the door, and froze.

Ethan sat hunched on a bench. His back was facing her, and his head was cradled in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. His back was moving up and down a little. At first, she thought he was panting. Then he raised his head at the sound of her entrance, and she saw with a jolt that his face was streaked with tears.

“Oh! God, I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone was in here.” Cara turned to leave.

“No, it’s okay.” His voice was a little thick.

Cara stopped with her hand on the doorknob.

Ethan swiped an arm across his face. “I was just—hiding out, I guess.” He stared down at the floor again.

Cara edged forward. Hesitantly, she perched on the edge of the wooden bench next to him. He didn’t move, just continued staring at the floor. Cara reached out and placed a tentative hand on his back, feeling the warmth under his shirt. He lifted his head, and she jerked her hand back as if she’d been burned. But his face was grateful.

“I saw the news,” Cara said. “It’s awful.”

Ethan shook his head. The words poured out of him like someone had turned on a tap. “It’s all my fault. I never should have gotten mad at her at the party. I should have known better. She’s been so upset recently—so fragile. I’m such a fucking idiot.” He smacked his knee with his open hand.

“Hey, don’t.” Cara bent down and tried to get him to look at her. “Don’t blame yourself. You—you were just doing what you thought was best.”

He looked at her for the first time. His eyes were bloodshot and swimming with tears. “I just feel so guilty,” he almost whispered. He reached out and clutched at her hand.

“I’m so sorry.” She squeezed his hand back, and before she realized what was happening, his arms were around her and his head was pressed into her shoulder. She patted his back over and over as he cried. Cara could feel the heat of his body and the muscle and bone of his arms as they circled her. She felt very awake, as if she’d been given some sort of hyper-vision. She noticed everything—a tiny hole in the shoulder of Ethan’s gray T-shirt, a flattened wad of gum on the linoleum at her feet, the yellow varnished surface of the bench, as hard and shiny as a butterscotch candy.

His tears had soaked the collar of her shirt by the time his sobs quieted. He pulled away, his cheeks pink. “Christ.” He bent down and wiped his face with the hem of his shirt. “You must think I’m a total whack job.”

“No! Of course not,” Cara reassured him. He smiled a little, then cleared his throat. Cara stared down at her knees. Her shoulder burned where he’d rested his face. Silence fell. They sat next to each other on the bench as if at church.

On impulse, Cara reached down and pulled the little white bag out of her duffel. She stuck her hand in and found one of the glazed doughnuts. It was still warm. “Doughnut?”

He stared at it as if he’d never seen one before, and for an instant, Cara wondered if he was insulted. Maybe it wasn’t the right time. Maybe he hated doughnuts. Maybe he and Alexis used to always get doughnuts together, and this was going to remind him of how awful he felt all over again.

Then his face cracked into a big smile. “Thanks. Wow. Yeah, a doughnut would be great.” He looked at her wonderingly as he ate it in three big bites. Cara nibbled on a chocolate one. Ethan dipped into the bag again and started on a jelly doughnut. For a while, they chewed companionably.

Then Ethan swallowed his last bite and wiped sugar crumbs from his lips with the back of his hand. “My parents told me I didn’t have to come to school today. But just sitting at home in my room would be a hundred times worse.”

Cara nodded. “Yeah, I know about sitting at home.” She folded the tissue paper in her lap into a square and smoothed it on her knee. “Actually, I kind of know what you’re going through.”

“You do?”

Cara nodded. “Yeah. I had to leave my best friend behind when we moved here. She was, like, the person I cared about most in the world. It was awful. I cried for days.” Her throat swelled suddenly as she thought of Zoe back at home. Thank God Zoe had come back. All the tension of the last couple of days didn’t matter. She was just lucky to have her friend back.

Ethan nodded. “Like, you just feel abandoned, right? One minute the person’s right there, and the next, they’re gone.”

“You think about all the stupid fights you’ve ever had—”

“—and you wish you could take back everything mean you said.” Ethan’s mouth was drawn into a sad bow. “I lose my temper sometimes, like the other night at the party. Alexis always used to tell me to watch myself.”

“Me too.” Cara licked the sugar from her sticky fingertips. “I just get so
mad
sometimes. I let things get away from me, but I never mean it. It makes you feel powerless over your own emotions.”

Ethan solemnly held up the last chocolate doughnut. “Sugar. The answer is sugar. Cures anything.”

Cara grinned. “Coach is going to love it that we’re OD-ing on disgusting carbs
and
getting crumbs all over his precious training room.”

Ethan broke the doughnut in two and handed one half to Cara. “Good. I’m feeling a little rebellious right now.”

She smiled and nodded, her mouth crammed with the sweet dough, happiness flowing through her veins. Sugar really did cure everything, after all.

Chapter 17

“
A
NY NEWS FROM SCHOOL?” MOM TOOK A BITE OF
deli potato salad on Monday night and fixed her daughter with a stare.

Cara shook her head and maneuvered green beans from the three-bean salad around on her plate. Her father was forking in tuna fish with one hand while he made some sort of notes on a napkin with his other. Cara could tell he didn’t even know what he was eating.

Her mother smiled patiently. Cara sighed. “Um, Mr. Furlong gave vodka to some of the football players at his house and got fired.” There. That ought to keep her quiet for a while.

There was a pause as her mother digested this bit of news. Cara ate another bean. Her father said, “Hrumph!” at the napkin and nodded his head.

“Don.” Her mother gave him a deliberate “this-is-quality-time-with-our-daughter” look.

“What?” Dad looked up. “What were you saying, Cara?” His eyes wandered to his plate. “Is that tuna salad?”

“She was saying that—” Mom was interrupted by the doorbell.

“I’ll get it!” Cara slid off her seat. Behind her she could hear her mother continue recounting the Mr. Furlong vodka story. She had the daring, exciting thought that it might be Ethan at the door. She hadn’t seen him since their training room encounter on Friday morning. But maybe he was stopping by to talk or something. With a tremulous smile on her lips, she swung open the door.

Two police officers stood on the doormat, under the porch light. Behind them, the dark autumn night hung still and chilly. Cara’s heart gave a single huge thud, and she fell back a step. This was it, her mind buzzed. They’d found out where Zoe was. They were going to take her away, back to her stepfather. Cara wanted to run up the stairs and warn Zoe, but some calmer, wiser instinct held her in place.

“Is this the Lange household?” the female cop asked. She had neat blond hair pulled into a bun. Her name tag read “Stanton.”

Cara nodded mutely.

“Who is it, Cara?” her mother called out from the kitchen. Cara’s mouth was too dry to answer.

“May we come in?” the tall male cop asked. His badge glittered on his chest, reflecting the porch light. It shone right into Cara’s eyes. She remained motionless. The cops, used to this sort of behavior perhaps, stepped over the doorsill anyway, forcing Cara to step back or get knocked over.

“Cara, who—?” Mom stopped in the entrance to the foyer, her napkin still in her hand. The faint look of annoyance on her face froze when she saw the police standing there instead of a Girl Scout selling cookies.

“Mrs. Lange?” Stanton asked.

Mom’s hand flew to her throat. “Yes? Is anything the matter?”

Dad appeared behind her, his face startled. He placed a hand on Mom’s shoulder.

“There is an urgent matter we need to discuss with you,” the tall cop said. Cara looked at his name badge. Fitzgerald.

Cara felt the three-bean salad rise in her throat. This was it. It was all going to come out now. Zoe. Her concealment. Aiding and abetting a runaway. Was that a crime? Zoe hauled down the stairs, screaming and kicking. Would they handcuff her? Zoe crying out to Cara, holding her arms out. The cops, stone-faced, forcing her into the cruiser. Taking her away forever.

Cara made a strangled noise, and all four adults looked at her. “Cara,” her mother said sharply. “Do you need to go get a glass of water? You’re very pale.”

Cara shook her head. Mom looked apologetically at the cops. “My daughter is a bit . . . nervous.” Cara could see Mom gaining her composure back, going into lawyer mode. “Please, won’t you sit down?” She indicated two matching armchairs.

The cops sat down, holding their hats on their knees, feet planted on the floor, backs straight, as if they’d been taught how to sit at the police academy. Mom and Dad sat together on the sofa facing them, while Cara remained standing, her back to the fireplace, her hands clasped behind her, like a child called up before the class.

Fitzgerald took a notebook from his pocket and flipped it open, poising his pen. “We’re investigating the disappearance of a Sherman High School student, Alexis Henning. Are you aware that Ms. Henning was reported missing on Saturday, September twentieth?”

Cara felt the band of tension loosen from around her chest. It wasn’t about Zoe. Zoe was safe. She felt like lying down on the floor.
But why are they asking me about Alexis?

“Oh, yes,” Mom said. “We saw it on the news. So terrible. We know her parents well. Is there anything we can do to help?”

“As a matter of fact, there is,” Stanton said. She had a low voice tinged with a faint Boston accent. “We’ve found a pearl necklace that Alexis’s parents have identified as hers. The necklace was found between the Kohli residence, where Alexis was last seen, and the Henning home. Neighbors have also reported hearing sounds of a scuffle. We’ve now shifted the investigation from suicide to a possible abduction.” Stanton’s face was smooth and blank. Cara flashed to the barn. Zoe rolling that little bead of light between her fingers.

“Abduction!” Mom gasped. Her hand went to her mouth. “Oh, poor Alexis!” Cara could see tears fill her eyes. She looked so old all of a sudden, sitting there on the sofa, her ankles crossed, her crisp white shirt gleaming in the lamplight. Cara could see every wrinkle on her face, every gray hair.

Fitzgerald cleared his throat. “We’d like to ask Cara a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

Cara could feel her ears grow hot as all four pairs of eyes swung toward her. Her eye began to twitch as if on cue. “M-me?” she stammered. From upstairs, she heard a door open quietly. Zoe had come out of the room. Cara willed her face not to betray anything. From her position in front of the fireplace, she could see through the big open doorway to the staircase. A small white face appeared behind the balustrade. Zoe was watching them. Cara locked eyes with her for a moment, and Zoe winked. Cara thanked God that her parents and the officers were facing away from the stairs. But all Mom had to do was lean left a little, and look up and she’d have a direct view—

“Cara?”

“Huh?” Everyone was looking at her.

“Cara, Officer Stanton was asking if you could confirm you were at Sarit’s on Saturday.” Her father was looking at her strangely. “Pay attention. This is important.”

“Oh!” Cara tore her eyes away from Zoe on the staircase. “Um, yeah, I mean, yes, I was at the party after the funeral,” she stammered. Her eye was twitching a million miles a minute.

Fitzgerald made a note on his pad. “And while you were there, did you happen to speak to Ethan Gray?”

Ethan? She nodded. Fitzgerald made another note.

“And what do you know about Ethan Gray’s activities that night?” Stanton asked. Zoe shifted on the staircase, and the wood creaked. Cara willed herself to look Stanton in the face. Why were they asking about Ethan? Suddenly an image flashed into her mind of Ethan, crouched on the bench in the training room this morning.
I feel so guilty,
he’d sobbed. No. No, that was impossible.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she almost whispered.

“Honey! Did you talk to Ethan at the party?” Mom chimed in anxiously.

Cara nodded. “Yes, I talked to him. We stood in the kitchen and talked for a while.” She thought of the black square of the window over the sink. The backyard, gray in the twilight. The black hair, the same hair she’d known all her life, disappearing behind the garage. “He said he’d walk me home.”
Ethan’s never going to make a move on you as long as his nasty girlfriend is around.