Cemetery Girl

We didn’t get out right away.

“What?” Caitlin asked.

“You know, I tried to get Frosty back after I brought him here. Your uncle Buster drove me here one day.”

“What happened?”

“He was gone. Somebody had already adopted him. I tried to get their name so I could go get him. I would have paid them for him, but the shelter doesn’t give out that information.”

“Oh.”

“It’s probably someone in town who has him,” I said, trying to be reassuring. “Somebody who likes dogs.”

“I don’t want to talk about Frosty anymore.”

“Do you want to go in?” I asked. “They might let us walk one.”

She nodded.

“Did you-? You said Colter was walking a dog when he picked you up at the park that day. So you had a dog where you were?”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t his,” she said. “It was his mom’s. And they put it to sleep after a couple of years. It was old.”

“He started the whole thing with a lie,” I said. “You see what he-”

“Dad,” she said. She sounded tired. And maybe she was-of me, no doubt. “What does any of it matter now? You know?”

I didn’t say so, but silently I agreed. We got out of the car and went inside.

Caitlin found a midsized mutt, something that looked like a cross between a collie and a poodle, and after getting a few minutes of instruction from a volunteer, we took it for a walk. For a shelter animal, the dog did surprisingly well on a leash. It must have lived in a home where it had received some training at one time. It didn’t resist the leash or work against it. Rather, it accepted the tie and walked by Caitlin’s side.

While Caitlin talked to the dog, I looked over my shoulder, expecting at any moment to be surrounded by police cars. After about twenty minutes of strolling, we brought the dog back to the shelter. The volunteer smiled at us.

“Well, this looks like a perfect fit,” she said. “Will we be making an adoption today?”

I looked at Caitlin expectantly. I would have given her whatever she wanted.

But she shook her head. “No, thanks,” she said. “I’m just about to move.”

Chapter Fifty-three

We made one more stop before driving to the cemetery. The sun had slipped away, a red band of sky spreading just above the treetops. The air was considerably cooler, and the wind increased. Huge flocks of black birds moved across the sky, migrating.

I drove behind the grocery store to an area near its loading dock. No one was back there after hours, and when I dropped the car into park, Caitlin looked over at me.

“Why are we here?”

“I need to ask you something. I’ll only ask one more time. Are you sure you want to do this?”

She didn’t blink or hesitate. “I’m sure.”

“Nothing will be the same if we go there and do this,” I said.

“I know. That’s what I want,” she said. And then, after a pause, she added, “Is anything the same anyway?”

“No,” I said. “But sometimes there are chances to turn back and sometimes there aren’t. I think we’re at a point where it’s going to be hard to turn back.”

She took a deep breath. It almost looked like she shuddered.

“I’m ready,” she said.

I’d been thinking about the setup of the event all morning, the logistical aspects of making what was supposed to be a trade. All I had to do was bring Caitlin to Colter, let them see each other, and I would be able to extract the information I wanted. The difficult part would be pulling back at the right moment, making sure Caitlin left with me and not with him.

“I want you to get in the backseat,” I said.

“Why?”

“How do I know you won’t just run when you see him?” I asked. “If you’re in the back, I can have some measure of-”

“Control?” she said.

“Certainty,” I said. “Certainty that you won’t just run.”

“I won’t run away. I promise. Do you believe me? I won’t run away. I’ll do what you want.”

And I did believe her. Her eyes were clear, her voice level.

“Okay,” I said. “But I do want you to get in the backseat. And stay down.”

She didn’t argue further, and she didn’t even bother to get out of the car. Like a little kid, she wormed her body over the front seat and into the back. She landed with a light thud.

“Okay?” she said. “Happy?”

I made sure the child locks were activated.

I knew Caitlin was behind me. I sensed her. But I felt alone in the dark. Very alone. The wind picked up again, scuffling leaves across the parking lot, and I shivered.

No turning back.

I drove to the cemetery.

Chapter Fifty-four

I thought of the first time I ever drove Caitlin, when she was a newborn and we brought her home from the hospital. I drove slower than slow, sensing disaster at every stoplight, in every other car on the road. New-parent syndrome. I outgrew it, let go of the fears and anxieties, let her grow up, fall down, and make her own mistakes.

At some point, she’d have to be let go again. But not then, not yet.