Down River Part 6

There was no irony in her.

"Okay, Robin. We'll talk. Just let me get my bag. Do you have any wine?"

"Some."

"Wine could be nice," I said, then went outside to collect my things. I stood in the parking lot. The sky spread out, a low blackness propped up by small-town light. I tried to figure out how I felt about Robin and the things she'd said. Everything was happening so fast, and I was no closer to doing what I'd come here to do.

I dropped my duffel in the foyer and walked toward the living room. I heard Robin's voice, saw that she was on her cell. She held up a hand, and I stopped, realizing that something was wrong. It was all over her.

"Okay," she said. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

She snapped the phone closed, reached for the gun in its shoulder holster, shrugged it on.

"What is it?" I asked.

Her features closed down as she spoke. "I have to go out," she said.

"Something serious?"

She stepped closer. I felt the change in her, the sudden rise of an unyielding intellect. "I can't talk about it, Adam, but I think that it is." I started to speak, but she cut me off. "I want you to stay here. Stay by the phone."

"Is there a problem?" I was suddenly wary; there was something in her eyes.

"I want to know where to find you," she said. "That's all."

I tried to hold her gaze, but she glanced away. I didn't know what was going on, but I did know this: that was her third lie tonight. I didn't know what it was about, but it could not be good. "I'll be here," I said.

Then she left.

No kiss. No goodbye.

All business.

CHAPTER 5.

I stretched out on the sofa, but sleep was an impossible dream. I sat up when Robin opened the door. Strain showed on her face. Fatigue and what looked like anger.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"After midnight."

I noticed all of the things that were not right: red mud on her shoes, a leaf tangled in her hair. Her face was flushed, with spots of brighter color in the hollow places. The kitchen lamp put pinp.r.i.c.ks in her eyes.

Something was very wrong.

"I have to ask you a question," she said.

I leaned forward. "Ask," I said.

She perched on the edge of the coffee table. Our knees were close, but we did not touch. "Did you see Grace today?"

"Did something happen to her?" Adrenaline jolted through me.

"Just answer me, Adam."

My voice was too loud. "Did something happen to her?"

We stared at each other. She didn't blink.

"Yes," I finally said. "I saw her at the farm. At the river."

"What time?"

"Four. Four thirty, maybe. What's going on, Robin?"

She blew out a breath. "Thanks for not lying to me."

"Why would I lie to you? Just tell me what the h.e.l.l is going on. Did something happen to Grace?"

"She's been attacked."

"What do you mean?"

"Somebody a.s.saulted her, maybe raped her. It happened this afternoon. Early evening, perhaps. Down by the river. It looks like someone dragged her off the trail. They'd just found her when I got the call."

I surged to my feet. "And you didn't tell me?"

Robin rose more slowly. Resignation moved in her voice. "I'm a cop first, Adam. I couldn't tell you."

I looked around, grabbed my shoes, started pulling them on. "Where's Grace now?"

"She's at the hospital. Your father is with her. So are Dolf and Jamie. There's nothing you can do."

"Screw that."

"She's sedated, Adam. It won't make a difference if you're there or not. But you saw her this afternoon, right before it happened. You may have seen something, heard something. You need to come with me."

"Grace comes first."

I turned for the door. She put her hand on my arm, pulled me to a stop. "There are questions that need to be answered."

I pulled my arm away, ignored her sudden anger, and felt my own emotion rise. "When you got the call, you knew it was Grace? Didn't you?"

She did not have to answer. It was obvious.

"You knew what that would mean to me and you lied about it. Worse, you tested me. You knew that I'd seen Grace and you tested me. What? Did Jamie tell you that I was there? That I saw her at the river?"

"I won't apologize. You were the last to see her. I had to know if you'd tell me that."

"Five years ago," I spat out. "Did you believe me then?"

Her eyes drifted left. "I would not be with you if I thought you'd killed that boy."

"So, where's the trust now? Where's the G.o.dd.a.m.n faith?"

She saw the rage in me, but didn't flinch. "It's what I do, Adam. It's who I am."

"Screw that, Robin."

"Adam-"

"How could you even think it?"

I turned violently away; she raised a hand to stop me, but could not. I tore open the door and was through, into the thick night that held such perfect ruin.

CHAPTER 6.

It was a short drive. I pa.s.sed the Episcopal church and the old English cemetery. I took a left at the water tower, ignored the once grand homes that had decayed and been cut up into low-rent apartments; then I was into the medical district, among the doctor's offices, pharmacies, and gla.s.s-front stores selling orthopedic shoes and walkers. I parked in the emergency room lot, and headed for the double doors. The entrance was lit, everything else dark. I saw a figure leaning against the wall, the glow of a cigarette. I looked once and glanced away. Jamie's voice surprised me.

"Hey, bro."

He took a last drag and flicked the b.u.t.t into the parking lot. I met him near the door, under one of the many lights.

"Hey, Jamie. How is she?"

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and shrugged. "Who knows? They won't let us see her yet. I think that she's conscious and all, but she's like, catatonic."

"Is Dad here?"

"Yeah. And Dolf."

"What about Miriam and your mom?"

"They've been in Charlotte. Flew in from Colorado last night and stayed to shop. They should be here before long. George went in to pick them up."

"George?" I asked.

"George Tallman."

"I don't understand."

Jamie waved a hand. "It's a long story. Trust me."

I nodded. "I'm going in. I need to talk to Dad. How's Dolf holding up?"

"Everybody's a mess."

"You coming?"

His head moved. "I can't handle it in there."

"See you in a bit, then." I turned for the door, and felt his hand on my shoulder.

"Adam, wait." I turned back, and he looked miserable. "I'm not just out here to have a smoke."

"I don't understand."

He looked up and then to the side, at everything but my face. "It's not going to be pretty in there."

"What do you mean?"

"Dolf found her, okay. She didn't come home and he went looking for her. He found her where she'd been dragged off the trail. She was b.l.o.o.d.y, barely conscious. He carried her home, put her in the car, and drove her here." He hesitated.

"And?"

"And she talked. She hasn't said a word since she's been here-at least not to us-but she talked to Dolf. He told the cops what she said."

"Which was what?"

"She's out of it, confused maybe, and she doesn't remember much, but she told Dolf the last thing she does remember is that you kissed her, then she told you that she hates you, and then she ran away from you."

His words crashed down on me.

"The cops say that she was attacked maybe a half mile from the dock." I saw it all on his face. Half a mile. An easy run.

It was happening again.

"They think that I had something to do with it?"

Jamie looked like he'd rather be anywhere but here. He seemed to twist inside his own body. "It's pretty bad, isn't it, bro? n.o.body has forgotten why you left."

"I would never hurt Grace."

"I'm just saying-"

"I know what you're saying, d.a.m.n it. What's Dad saying?"