Cemetery Girl

“In town. Or at least he was. Where did your brother go?”

“The porch, I guess,” I said.

“I’ll catch him on my way out.”

“Why do you want to talk to him?” Abby asked. “Frankly, given some of his past behavior, I thought maybe you should. . examine him more closely.”

“This is just routine,” Ryan said. “Really, keep a close eye on her tonight. She’s still attached to this guy.” He gave Abby a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Stay strong. We’re getting there.”

Abby and I walked with Ryan to the front of the house, back to the room where Caitlin was sitting. She’d turned the TV back on. Through the large picture window, I saw Buster sitting on the porch, smoking a cigarette. I thought he’d quit, but there he was, the long tendrils of smoke leaving his mouth and nostrils and being carried away on the wind.

“I’ll just have a word with William and be on my way.”

“Tom?”

I followed Abby’s gaze. She stared out the window to the porch, where Ryan stood over Buster. Ryan’s face displayed the same unfriendly grin, and Buster was shaking his head back and forth, back and forth.

She said my name again.

“Tom?”

I looked over at her. She jerked her head toward the kitchen, so I followed her back there. She leaned against the one counter and I leaned against the other, facing her.

“It’s true, isn’t it? All that stuff Ryan was saying to her? It’s true. She lived with some man, and she. . lived with him or whatever.”

“She was taken.”

“Are you sure? What if she ran away? What if she wanted to be away from us? Someone else seemed more appealing. Better.”

“Stop it.”

“It’s possible, Tom. Admit it’s possible. Don’t all kids wish they could be away from their parents? Maybe Caitlin. .”

I went back to the living room and looked out the window. Buster wore a large smirk, and for a moment, he looked as childish and pouty as Caitlin under the heat of Ryan’s questions. He flicked his cigarette butt out into our yard and kept smirking.

Chapter Thirty-one

I turned back to Caitlin. It was getting late in the afternoon, and the light was going. I sat in a chair across from her and didn’t bother to see if she would move her eyes from the TV screen to me. I knew she wouldn’t.

“I know Detective Ryan was kind of hard on you,” I said. “He’s just doing his job, trying to find out what’s going on.”

Silence.

“He left you a note.”

“Fuck him.”

“I don’t mean Detective Ryan.”

She cut her eyes toward me. I waited while the realization showed on her face.

“He left it in the cemetery, with a bouquet of flowers. Ryan took it, but I’m sure he’ll show it to you at some point. I think they’re looking for fingerprints.” I paused, letting that hang in the air a moment. “The note said not to come back. It told you to go away and not come back.”

“Why would anyone leave a note in the cemetery?” she asked.

“Maybe because that’s where he took you.”

She started to turn back to the TV, but stopped. She looked at me again, still processing. “Was my name on it? The note. Was my name on it?”

“No.” I didn’t know where she was going with this.

“Then how do you know it was for me?”

“He left it someplace special,” I said. “Someplace just for you.”

She had never been a stupid kid. She was always two steps ahead of Abby and me, even when she was little.

“What could be just for me in a cemetery?”

I didn’t say anything, but Caitlin stared, her eyes a little wider.

“No,” she said. “You fuckers.”

I was trapped. “You were gone a long time, Caitlin. We wanted to celebrate your life somehow.”

She started shaking her head.

“You buried me,” she said.

“No.”

Her mouth hung open, her face disbelieving.

“He was right,” she said.

“Who?” I asked. But I knew. The man.

“He said you’d forget about me. You’d move on.”

“He lied to you, Caitlin. We never forgot.”

“It’s bullshit.”

“It’s a headstone, Caitlin. It’s just a memorial, a tribute.”

She turned back to the TV, her jaw set like granite.

“I’ll show you the note when I can. He’s done with you. Stop protecting him.”

“You’ll never know what happened,” she said. “Never.”

“I will.” I raised my hand, index finger extended. “I promise.”

She shook her head, speaking one word.

“Never,” she said. “Never.”

I looked outside, where Buster paced back and forth on the porch, a new cigarette burning in his mouth. It looked like Ryan was gone, so I went outside.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

“Breaking my balls, I guess.”

He kept pacing.

“What did he ask you?”

He stopped pacing and came up to me. The cigarette smoke curled up into his face, and he squinted.

“He showed me that sketch and asked if I knew who the guy was. Then he asked if any of my associates might know the guy. Associates. Can you believe he used that word? Associates.”

“What did you say?”

He took the cigarette out of his mouth, still squinting. “What do you think I said? I told him I didn’t know the guy. I told him the same stuff today I told him four years ago. Did you put him up to this?”

“I need to know.”