White Picket Fences (29 page)

“But you can’t just walk onto property that doesn’t belong to you and start digging!” Amanda exclaimed.

“Why not? Your grandparents were forced out of that house. It belonged to them. And the jewelry and gold he buried were theirs.”

“It’s not that simple, Tally. It’s never that simple. He’s probably running from the Polish police…”

“Don’t you even care that that stuff was your grandparents’? Do you know what happened to them in the ghetto? Do you know what it was like for them?”

Amanda sighed. “I do care, Tally. I do. But you can’t change everything by just wanting it to change.”

“Yeah? Well, my dad says you won’t change anything by just sitting around and doing nothing.”

After a moment, Amanda stood. “I need to call Nancy. If your dad goes back there and gets caught, he’ll be arrested.”

“What if he doesn’t get caught?”

“Look, I’ll tell your dad I forced this out of you. I’ll make sure he knows I made you tell me. Though I really don’t know why he made you promise.”

Tally looked at her. “Because you would’ve told him it was a dumb idea. You might’ve wanted half.”

Amanda drew back. “Did Bart really think that? Did he really think I’d want half if I knew about it?” Her aunt looked hurt.

“He thought maybe Neil would make you ask for half.”

Amanda shook her head and stood up. “I got my inheritance from my father already. Remember?”

“I’m just telling you what he told me. He thought Neil might want you to insist on half.”

When Amanda took a step toward the door, Tally stood. “Are you going to tell him? Are you going to tell Neil?”

“No.”

“But what if he asks?”

Amanda lifted and lowered her shoulders. “I don’t think he will.” She crossed the threshold to leave and then turned back. “I didn’t hear the garage door open when you came home. Chase didn’t come home with you?”

Tally shook her head.

“He had somewhere to go?”

“I guess so.”

“He didn’t say where he was going?”

“No.”

Amanda nodded. “Thanks for telling me the truth about your dad. I think I understand now.”

Her aunt left the room.

thirty-six

A
manda sat across from her husband in the family room with a mug of tea in her hands that she didn’t drink. She stared at the cell phone on the coffee table in front of her as her foot tapped a subtle but nervous beat.

Neil, sitting on the opposite couch, had one leg loosely crossed over the other and his elbow propped on the armrest. His chin sat in his palm and his eyes took in the television screen in front of him, but she wondered if he knew what he was watching. The hands on the clock above his head slowly shifted.

Nine thirty. Six hours since anyone had heard from Chase.

Her son had texted her that afternoon, shortly after she had left Tally’s room, but that was the last time anyone had heard from him. The message was frustratingly short:
B home l8r.

She’d heard nothing since then. He didn’t answer his phone, and he hadn’t returned her calls or text messages.

“Maybe I should ask Tally again if she knows anything,” she said softly to Neil.

“You already did. She doesn’t know where he is, Amanda. You’ll make her feel like it’s her fault he’s not home.” He did not look at her.

“But she said he wanted to be alone to think. That means he’s got something on his mind.”

“Then it makes sense to give him some room to think.”

She set the mug down and stood. “But I don’t like sitting here doing nothing! I feel like we should be doing something.”

“We’re waiting for him. We’re doing something.”

Amanda began to pace the carpeted space between the two couches. “But what if something happened?”

“If something happened, he’d call.”

“But what if he can’t call?”

“He said he’d be home later. Look at the clock, hon. He hasn’t missed his curfew yet. You’re jumping to conclusions.”

“And you’re just sitting there.”

Neil turned his head to look at her. “Because you asked me to. I have things I could be doing. So do you.” He uncrossed his leg. “We don’t have to be sitting here worrying about something that hasn’t happened.”

Neil made a move as if to stand.

“Don’t you dare.” Her voice was a harsh whisper.

“What was that?” Neil said, eyes wide.

“Don’t you dare disappear into the garage. Not today. Not tonight.”

Her husband sat back against the cushions. “Disappear?” He sounded astonished.

“Please don’t go to the garage.” She screwed her eyes shut and then opened them slowly, half expecting him to have vanished.

But Neil was still on the couch, looking at her, his head slightly cocked. “I’m sure Chase is fine. I don’t like it that he hasn’t returned our phone calls, but that doesn’t mean something terrible has happened. He’s going to be eighteen in a few months.
You need to start letting go. If he’s not home at ten, if he misses his curfew, we’ll call Matt’s house and see if he knows where Chase is. All right?” He looked at her and spoke gently. “Come on.” He patted the cushion next to him. “Sit back down. Drink your tea.”

Amanda hesitated and then eased herself onto the couch next to her husband. He slid one arm across her shoulder and picked up the remote with his other hand. He switched to the History Channel and settled back against the pillows.

Across from her on the table, her mug rested just inches from the phone. Her tea was growing cold. But she couldn’t reach it without loosening herself from Neil’s lazy, one-armed embrace. And she was afraid to move.

She closed her eyes.
God, please let him be all right. Please let him be okay.

After those unspoken words tumbled across her brain for the tenth time, she finally heard the kitchen door to the garage open. The sound made her jump in her seat.

“Steady,” Neil said softly. “Let him come in. Let him be the one to talk first.”

She listened to the sound of keys hitting the kitchen counter. Of a tripod and camera bag being set down next to them. The refrigerator door opened and closed. The cap to a water bottle twisted off. She heard her son take a drink and then pick up his camera and tripod. He moved through the kitchen and entered their line of vision.

Chase looked at her and then at Neil. “I’m sorry I didn’t return your calls. I was… kind of busy, and I wasn’t always where I could hear my phone.”

“Where were you?” Amanda asked, and next to her Neil said her name and rubbed her shoulder with his thumb.

“Six hours is a long time not to know where you are, Chase,” Neil spoke softly, but with implied authority.

“Yeah. I know. I’m sorry.”

“Want to tell us where you were?”

Chase hesitated. Amanda could see that he was formulating an answer. “I had to work through some things. And I just needed to be alone.”

“What things?” Amanda murmured, and again Neil rubbed her shoulder with his thumb.

“Chase, you know that if something is troubling you, we’re here for you,” Neil said. “I hope you know you can come to us.”

“Sure,” he said, but his tone hinted of indifference. Amanda could feel Neil stiffen beside her. Chase had hurt him. She was certain he had not meant to.

An uneasy silence fell across the open space.

“So, do you want to tell us where you were?” This time there was an unmistakable parental tenor to Neil’s voice.

Chase continued to study his father’s face. He nodded as if he’d come to a decision. Or maybe she just imagined it. “I was out shooting some video.”

“At night?”

“Yeah.”

“For school?”

“Maybe. Maybe I can use it for an assignment. I think I probably can.”

“And you couldn’t call to tell us you were out shooting this video?”

Chase took a drink from his water bottle, but his gaze never left his father’s eyes. “It didn’t occur to me to call until afterward. By then I was already on my way home. Couldn’t call you from the car. Didn’t have my Bluetooth.”

“Didn’t occur to you?”

“No. Sorry. It didn’t.”

“Was this video shoot before or after you needed time alone to think?”

Amanda sensed a layer of challenge in Neil’s voice. He was not happy with what he assumed were hints of disrespect. But she didn’t think Chase was taunting his father. She thought he was doing something else: inviting Neil to be transparent. But Neil wasn’t getting it. She flashed a warning to her son with her eyes. But he wasn’t looking at her.

“In between, I guess you could say.” Chase took another drink.

“So, in between this time you needed to be alone, you decided to shoot some video that you may or may not use for school.”

Another long drink. “Yep.”

“Must be some good footage for you to let it intrude on your thinking time.”

Amanda shifted in her seat. She breathed Neil’s name but he ignored her.

“Really good footage, actually,” Chase said. “Maybe you’d like to see it sometime. You know, in between woodworking projects.”

Neil flinched as the wound deepened. “That’s enough, Chase.”

Chase blinked at him. “Is it? I’m just saying I’ll show it to you, if you want. But you’re usually pretty busy in the garage.”

“Chase, don’t.” Amanda’s voice sounded weak in her ears.

“Don’t what? I’m just saying I’d be happy to show him this video when he’s not busy in his woodshop.”

“I’m not in the woodshop right now.” Neil’s voice was cold.

“Please. Don’t do this.” Amanda looked from one to the other. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”

“You want to see it right now?” Chase patted his camera bag, ignoring her. “You want to?”

Neil sat forward on the couch, and Amanda could feel resentment rippling across the cushions. “What I want,” he said smoothly, “is some respect.”

Chase looked around the room as if searching for his father’s lost reverence. “How have I disrespected you? I’m merely pointing out the obvious. When have you ever asked to see one of my videos, Dad? When? You never have. But hey, I get it. You’re a busy guy. A lot of projects. A lot of wood to cut. I totally get it.”

“I think we’re done here.” Neil looked away from his son.

“Neil, don’t. Don’t!” Amanda murmured.

Chase hesitated only a moment. “Sure. No prob. You can see it some other time. It’s really good stuff. I was downtown tonight, and a warehouse at the Embarcadero caught fire. I followed the fire engines. Got the whole thing on video. One hell of a fire.” Chase turned and headed for the stairs.

“Chase!” Amanda jumped to her feet. But Chase sprinted up the stairs two at a time. His bedroom door closed with a thud.

Neil sat silent and inert, a thin line of movement under his jaw the only indication that he’d heard what Chase said.

“Neil, go up to him! You have to go up to him. You two can’t just leave it like this!”

“Like what?” His chest rose and fell in quick succession.

“You can’t leave it like this!”

Neil stood and looked at the staircase for only a second before pivoting and then heading to the kitchen and the garage beyond. “He has no right to talk to me that way.” He put his hand on the doorknob.

“Neil!”

The door to the garage opened and slammed shut.

Amanda turned toward the stairs, to the room above her head, where Chase was. What could she say to him? What should she say to him?

She stood that way, alone in her family room, for several long moments. Then she grabbed her cell phone from the coffee table. She fumbled for her purse and her car keys on the table by the front door, opened the door wide, then stepped out into the chilly night air. She sprinted for her car while pressing buttons on her phone, scrolling through her contacts until she landed on the one she wanted.

Amanda opened the car door, slid inside, and pressed the Call button as she slammed the door shut. She pounded the steering wheel as she waited for the call to go through. When it did she could barely speak.

“Gary. It’s Amanda. I don’t know what to do.”

thirty-seven

C
hase stood in his bedroom in darkness. Clouds hid the moon outside his window and smothered any hint of light.

Anger, fear, and longing tugged at him, but he refused to acknowledge even the racing rhythm of his heart. He reached for his desk lamp, and a thin wedge of light chased a mere scrap of darkness away.

He had no idea why he’d said what he did to his parents. The words had just erupted like lava and spilled from his mouth, tumbling out of him when his father made it clear without words that he had no desire to see the video of what he saw at the Embarcadero.

Not even when he told them the video was of a fire. Fire. Ghost feasting on a warehouse as four engine houses battled it. Not even then.

He heard the faraway sound of the door to the garage opening and closing. Then he heard the front door opening and closing.

Chase tossed the camera bag onto his desk and let the tripod thump to the floor. He knew why they could not speak of the fire—why they could never speak of the fire, even with the invitation from him to do so.

Standing on the pier an hour earlier, filming Ghost as it
raged against metal and wood, knowing Ghost would happily consume a human with equal indiscriminate gusto, he suddenly understood why.

His parents were sure of what he only wondered: he had started the fire that killed Alyssa Tagg.

Chase closed his eyes as a dull ache fell over him. He slumped onto his bed and dropped his head into his hands.

How did they know? Had he told them? Had he confessed to them the day it happened that he had done it? Why didn’t the law journal article say anything about it? Had his parents kept this information from the police? Had they purposely buried the truth, moved away, let Keith the idiot take the blame?

He almost didn’t hear the knock at his door. Anger flooded his brain and filled the empty spaces in his head with hot remorse.

When he heard the soft rapping, he looked up, wanting his parents to open the door. Wanting them to step into his room and his pain, to wrap their arms around him and tell him over and over that he didn’t mean to do it.