Chapters (65)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Part One
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Part Two
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Part Three
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- About the Publisher
Cally put on her coat and covered up the baby.
“See you around two,” I said to the guy as we left. On the way back, I took the baby carrier and the gas can. Cally walked in front of me with her bag of maxi pads. “So, are you all right?” I said. “You got your period?”
“I don’t think it’s my period,” she said. “I think it’s just, you know, what happens after you have a baby.”
“Okay, I don’t wanna know,” I said.
We walked in silence. At the base of the hill, she stopped and turned to me. “So, who did you call?”
A car slowed down and flashed its lights. It made crunch sounds in the snow, then stopped. An older woman on the passenger side rolled down her window. The driver was an older man. The woman asked, “Do you two need a lift?”
Thirty
Ruth
SATURDAY, DECEMBER 7, 2002
Afternoon
Eventually, Hal and I found Cally’s car buried in snow in the parking lot behind her apartment building. With his wool-cloaked arm, Hal wiped off snow from the windshield and the driver’s window, and we peered inside for clues. Nothing but used tissues, an empty Arby’s cup and other trash, a Minnesota Gophers sweatshirt, a snow scraper, some papers that looked like junk mail. Nothing that indicated trouble or unusual circumstances.
“Look. There’s a brochure from the community college on the passenger seat,” I said.
“Okay, so we know she didn’t drive herself away from the hospital,” said Hal, like a lawyer.
“Couldn’t she have come here somehow and then left the car?” I said, like a journalist.
“Well, from the accumulation up top, compared with the others, it looks like this car has been here for the six inches we got last night.” Hal nodded at the perfectly formed meringue of snow on the Chevy’s roof, then pointed around the lot.
“And there’s no car seat,” I added after checking the backseat again.
“Why would she have a car seat? We’re the ones who need a car seat.”
“I’m just noting it for the record, Counselor.” I checked Hal’s face to see if he appreciated my teasing. He didn’t; he was too focused. I tried the door on the passenger side, and it opened. Snow fell into the car as I swung the door wide and leaned in, grabbing at the trash on the floor and in between the seats.
“What are you doing?” Hal stepped back from the car.
“Maybe she hid an extra key in here.” I opened the glove compartment, combed through the papers, and closed it again. When I found incriminating evidence in the form of an empty Starbucks cup, I pulled it out and stood next to Hal.
“Anything?” he asked.
“Look at this,” I said, holding the cup up to his face. “She was drinking coffee.”
“So?”