or caverns to crawl inside. Or a river to cross and logs to slip from. Where a man does not push her down stairs or throw plates near her head. Where her other children will not hold dominion over a town and where, I hope, they will never be abandoned.
* * *
TYLER STOOD BESIDE ME on the porch as Annaleise’s mother drove away. “I have to go,” he said. “I have to be in a meeting about a land survey. But I’ll come back later.”
“Okay, so go.”
He stood too close, like he was going to kiss my forehead, and had to change movement at the last minute. He put an arm around my shoulder and pressed down, like Daniel might do. “Don’t look at me like that. I can’t bring you with me to work.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“No, you just looked at me like that.”
I pushed him in the arm. “Go.”
He changed his mind, pulled me to his chest anyway, and said, “Everything’s okay.” I wanted to stay like that indefinitely. Everything was not even close to okay, but that was the thing about Tyler—he made me think that it might be.
I clung to him much longer than what might be considered appropriate for a girl with a fiancé and a guy with a missing girlfriend.
“I’ll be back tonight,” he said, pulling away.
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” I said.
“Why not? Her mother just showed up and saw my truck here. There are going to be rumors anyway,” he said.
“Your missing girlfriend really isn’t something to joke about.”
“She’s not missing. She’s just not here. And I think it’s safe to say, whenever she shows up, that we’re over.”
“Oh my God, stop joking.”
He sighed. “I don’t know what else to do, Nic.”
I nodded at him, squeezed his hand. And then I watched him go.
As soon as his truck was out of sight, I went back inside and pulled open the kitchen drawers, dumping the contents on the floor, trying to piece together my father’s life over the last ten years.
* * *
THE RAIN WAS SUPPOSED to break the heat, but it didn’t. It was a hot rain, as if it had manifested out of the humidity, the air unable to hold it any longer. The only thing it did was keep us all from searching the woods.
I drove to the library after lunch, sat at one of the computers in the corner, and pulled up the Yellow Pages site, looking for pawnshop listings. I scribbled down the number and address for any within an hour’s drive, then stepped into the back courtyard of the library, which was essentially the backyard of a home encircled by a high brick wall, plants along the sides and benches in the middle. It was abandoned in the rain. I stayed pressed against the wall, under the lip of the roof overhang, the water streaming down six inches in front of my face, and dialed the first number on the list.
“First Rate Pawnshop,” a man answered.
“I’m looking for something,” I explained, keeping my voice low. “It would’ve come in sometime yesterday, probably. Or maybe today.”
“I’m going to need a little more information than that,” the man responded.
“It’s a ring,” I said. “Two-carat diamond. Brilliant setting.”
“We’ve got some engagement rings,” he said, “but nothing that’s come in recently. Have you filed a police report?”
“No, not yet.”
“Because if you don’t, if this was stolen from you and it turns up in a shop somewhere, we’re not just gonna hand it over to you. That’s the first step, honey.”
“Okay, thanks,” I said.
“Do you want to leave a number in the meantime, in case it shows?”
I paused. “No,” I said. “Thanks for your help.”
Shit. I shoved the list deep in my purse to keep it from getting wet and headed through the library back to my car. I would have to see for myself. Navigating the roads in the rain, browsing the crappy stores on the corners. Just looking, I’d say. Just passing through. The sign just caught my eye, is all.
* * *
FIVE HOURS LATER AND I needed dinner. I hadn’t found the ring, and I was irritable, and I knew it was partly because I was hungry, but also because of the ring, and also because Daniel’s car was in the driveway and I wanted quiet. I needed time to think, to work this all through. I needed to understand.
I ran through the rain, holding my purse over my head. “Daniel?” I called from just inside the front door. The