gun?
“I only wanted to tell him he was going the wrong way, but he wouldn’t listen.” Sondra’s voice rose. “He kept shouting, ‘Leave me alone, leave me alone,’ over and over. He made Lindsey cry. He scared her.”
At the gas station, Abby thought, the Shell station Lindsey had called from, when Abby heard her daughter crying. She bit the inside of her cheek.
Sondra said she had taken Nick’s cell phone from the Jeep. “He left it in plain sight, left the car unlocked. The phone would have been stolen. I took the map, too, and some other stuff, change from the cup holder, a ribbon, I think it was Lindsey’s. I don’t—I’m not sure why I took the other things—” Sondra frowned.
Abby’s mind gave her pictures, unwanted pictures, of Sondra handling Lindsey’s hair ribbon, something Abby herself had cherished, of Sondra inside Nick’s jacket, where Abby had sought refuge. A sound broke from her chest, and she put her hand there. Her eyes clashed with Sondra’s.
“I took the map because I wanted to show him the right way to go, but he pushed me. He called me a crazy bitch. There was no need for that.” Sondra’s voice caught. She pressed her lips together.
“What did you do?” Abby spoke over the heavy frightened thudding of her pulse, even as her sense that Sondra had done something to hurt her family grew in her mind.
“When he left the gas station, I followed him. I only wanted to talk, you know? I drove beside his car and motioned for him to let down the window, but he sped up, so I had to speed up, too. I only wanted to talk.” Sondra rubbed her upper arms briskly. She repeated it, “I only wanted to talk,” once, twice, three more times, a slurry of words. “I tried to keep up, but he kept going faster. It was raining so hard, and I was screaming at him to slow down, but he didn’t and the curve came and he started to slide and then he—the car just—went through the guardrail down into all that water—”
“You ran them off the road!?”
“No, it was him, all him. He wouldn’t stop.”
“Get out!” Abby seized her cell phone and tried to tap out 911, but she couldn’t see the numbers, her fury was so all-consuming, so blinding. She thought if Sondra did not go, she would kill her; she would choke Sondra by the neck until she was dead.
“Stop!”
Sondra’s shout pierced the hide of Abby’s rage. She looked up. The gun Sondra pointed at Abby was small, snub-nosed, ugly. Abby felt her breath go. She felt her knees weaken.
“Put down the phone.”
Abby dropped it.
“Mom?”
“Jake? Get out of the house!” Abby heard his laundry basket hit the mudroom floor and then his car keys hit the kitchen counter. She bit back a cry. She had forgotten he was coming home this weekend.
He appeared in the doorway. Abby looked at him over her shoulder, watched as his eyes widened, taking in the scene. But otherwise he gave no sign of alarm, and Abby marveled at that. He was wearing Nick’s jacket, and she thought that was good. Maybe if he gave it to Sondra, she’d go.
“What is she doing here?” he asked.
Sondra gestured with the gun. “Get over there next to your mother.”
Jake said, “Okay, but why don’t you put the gun down?” He came slowly to Abby’s side, and his presence steadied her even as she felt terrified for what might happen to him.
“No,” Sondra said. “I came here today because I thought your mom—you and your mom deserved to know the truth about what happened to your dad and your sister, and it was hard for me having to relive it. But I thought, it’s not about me, you know? Now your mom is blaming me. She was trying to call the police like I’m some kind of murderer—”
“She ran them off the road,” Abby said.
“Shut up!” Sondra said.
Abby clenched her jaw.
“You weren’t in the car with them?” Jake asked Sondra, as if their conversation were normal.
“I followed them from here.” She reflected Jake’s ease, and Abby realized it was a ploy, that Jake’s calm demeanor was deliberate. She wondered at his presence of mind, his courage.
Sondra went on. “I had called Nina, you see. That’s how I knew Nick was going camping that weekend. I planned to surprise him at the campsite, but then he got off the interstate in San Antonio and checked into a motel.”
“Because