Someone Knows Page 6

  “I bet they’re all over him.” His mother snorted. “Hot young girls on a boat, that’s his fantasy. It’s so juvenile!”

  Julian flashed on his AIM convo with Sasha. He would do anything for her, and if she wanted bullets for the gun, he would figure out a way to get them. Now the two of them had a secret, from the others. Him and Sasha, together.

  “Does he pay any attention to you on these trips?”

  “I don’t need him to.”

  “But you’re with him every other weekend. It must be lonely.”

  “I’m fine.” Julian had been standing with his dirty plate forever. “Now can I be excused?”

  “Yes, but listen to me.” His mother touched his arm, her charm bracelet jingling with the gold number-charms that his father had given her on their anniversaries. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. The judge said the custody schedule is optional at your age. It’s a guideline, not the law.”

  “If I don’t want to go, I won’t.” Julian used to look forward to his father’s weekends, before he’d found the gun. If things started to heat up with Sasha, he’d stay home on his father’s weekends.

  “When school starts, you can’t go boating on weekends. You’ll have homework.”

  “I know.”

  “I just hate that this is your life now, back and forth all the time.” His mother’s pretty face fell, and three wrinkles popped on her forehead. Lately she’d been talking about Botox.

  “Mom, I’m fine.” Julian knew what she needed to hear. “And take it from me, none of those girls are as pretty as you—”

  “Is.”

  “What?”

  “Your verb agreement. ‘None of those girls is.’ Not ‘are.’ You’ll never go wrong if you pretend ‘none’ is ‘no one.’ Think to yourself, ‘no one is.’ ”

  “Okay, no one is as pretty as you, or as cool as you, or as smart as you, and they can’t do anything as well as you. Dad’s crazy, and you’re perfect.”

  “Really?” His mother swallowed hard.

  “Perfect.” Julian gave her a kiss on the cheek, and when he straightened up, his mother was smiling again.

  CHAPTER 11

  Kyle Gallagher

  Mom, I’m gonna take the dog out.” Kyle flipped the new red harness over Buddy’s broad back. It had the dog’s name with their phone number, a 610 area code that Kyle hadn’t gotten used to. He’d joked with his mom, We don’t have to change Buddy’s name, too, do we?

  “Thanks, honey.” His mother looked up from the kitchen table, where she was paying bills. “You’re so helpful.”

  “No problem.” Kyle smiled at her, knowing she stressed over money. They were living on so much less without his father. She never even had to work before, so she’d volunteered at school and for the booster moms on the basketball team. But she never complained about what happened, always saying it put life in perspective.

  “Don’t be too long, okay?” His mother’s expression turned serious. “You’ve been walking him a long time, every night.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Last night you were gone an hour, honey. I timed it. You were gone from 10:15 to 11:16.”

  “It was a nice night.”

  “I worry about you.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about, Mom. It’s safe out there.” Kyle tried so hard not to make her worry. She never worried about herself. Only him.

  “Where did you go?”

  “Just to Pinto, around the big houses.” Kyle started to leave the kitchen with the dog, who tugged ahead, his tail wagging.

  “Someday we’ll get back up there, honey.”

  “Mom, that’s not why I walk there.” The notion caught Kyle by the throat, and he stopped. “I don’t care about the houses. Buddy likes a nice long walk, and it’s cooler at night. Okay?”

  “Okay.” His mother pursed her lips, and Kyle wanted to reassure her but he didn’t know what to say.

  Kyle headed for the door. “Love you.”

  “Love you more!” his mother called back, which always made him feel bad, like he didn’t love his mother as much as she loved him. Like his father. Kyle wondered if his father had loved either of them, really.

  He left the house trying to shake off the feelings, walking down the flagstone path to the pavement. The air was cool, and it wasn’t dark in the townhouse section because there was ambient light. At the other end of the street, one neighbor was rolling out a recycling bin, and another was walking a white poodle. He passed the other townhouses where the TVs were on, the news ending. People were talking and laughing inside, but he didn’t want to hear the families, the way his used to be, or at least the way he thought they were.

  Kyle turned right, letting Buddy tug him along, then took a left on Thoroughbred. He paused to let the dog pee and patted his jeans pocket, reassured that he had pickups. It was the rule of the development that you had to pick up after your dog with a special green eco-bag, and his mother wanted them to follow the rules to the letter, so as not to attract undue attention. It bothered Kyle that they acted like they were criminals, when the real criminal was his father.

  Buddy did his business, and Kyle’s gaze lifted to the townhouses around him, a cluster of three-story buildings with parking between them. The fronts were white and the shutters were black. They had to keep it that way because it was the rental section. Everybody got assigned to spaces, and needed special permission for more guests. It had been the same way at New Albany Mews, the development where they’d lived before. Kyle turned the eco-bag inside out, scooped up the poop, and knotted the bag.

  Kyle walked on autopilot, wondering if it was really a fresh start to move to another development. Brandywine Hunt was just a bigger version of New Albany Mews. Like strip malls that had a McDonald’s, a Taco Bell, and a Domino’s, developments were just strip malls of people. The only difference was that here no one knew the truth about them. His mother told people only that she was divorced and that Kyle never saw his father, which was technically true. It turned out that she had worried for nothing, because nobody asked. They got what they wanted, which was to be left alone. And they were, especially Kyle.

  He breathed in the night air, walking along. He tried not to think about his father or if they would ever visit him in prison. His mother never wanted to see him again, and Kyle didn’t blame her, but it wasn’t so easy for him. She’d divorced him, but Kyle couldn’t divorce his father. And he still had so many questions, like why his father had done what he had, and how much of what the newspapers said was true. Their therapist had said that Kyle needed closure, but Kyle didn’t know what he needed. He felt tangled, his emotions knotted together, inside.

  Kyle walked past the houses without really seeing them. His father, Dr. Brian Hammond, wasn’t the kind of guy who would do well in prison. He was a suburban pediatrician, not a badass. The thought of what could happen to him made Kyle sick, even though his father deserved it, no question. He could feel his anger simmering. He was so mad at his father. Sometimes he tried to tell himself that the jury had made a mistake, but his mother swore it was true. She’d even testified against his father. When she’d come home after, she’d cried as hard as Kyle had ever seen her cry. He couldn’t stand the sight, the sound, any of it. She had doubled over at the kitchen table. Her face had turned red. She hadn’t been able to catch her breath. If Kyle could tell mothers anything, it would be that. Never cry in front of your sons.

  Kyle reached Pinto, where the houses were so much bigger, all lit up like a stage set. The lamps inside glowed yellow, and the big TVs flickered. He could see people going upstairs and walking around, but he couldn’t hear because everyone had central air. Kyle didn’t miss their old house but he missed their family, or what he thought their family had been. He missed who he was then. He missed himself.

  He picked up the pace. He didn’t know if he was walking away from something or toward something else, but he kept going. He thought of the bottle he had hidden near th
e recycling, but he didn’t want to sneak a drink tonight. He was always worried his mom would smell it on his breath. She was finding them a new therapist, now that her insurance kicked in, but Kyle knew it wouldn’t help. It hadn’t before.

  Suddenly he spotted a flash of light in the woods behind the houses, like a flashlight. He watched to see if it came again, but it blinked off. Buddy must have seen it, too, because he started to bark, facing that direction.

  “Hello?” Kyle called out, feeling a nervous tingle. It seemed strange. No one was on the street, and the flashlight had come from deep in the woods.

  Kyle told himself it was nothing. Maybe somebody was running on the track that encircled the development, which had a parkour course. But Buddy kept barking, like something was hiding in the woods.

  “Hush, pal.” Kyle turned back home, having problems of his own.

  CHAPTER 12

  Allie Garvey

  Two Days Later

  The white signs were hung on the cyclone fencing: BRANDYWINE HUNT PROPERTY, DO NOT ENTER. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. NO TRESPASSING. CONSTRUCTION SITE. Allie would’ve obeyed every one, even HARD HATS MUST BE WORN, but Julian ignored them. He led the way with Sasha, and David and Allie brought up the rear. The four of them followed the path through the cleared trees on the way to the construction site. Allie had never broken the law, and she was pretty sure that breaking into a construction site qualified, even if Julian’s father owned the site, like he said.

  Allie felt hot in the sun, and flies buzzed around her head. It was still warm even at five o’clock, and they had to wait until the construction workers left for the day. Julian had planned it all, digging up the gun, getting the bullets, and deciding on the location because it was in the final phase, on the westernmost part of the property, set off from the other houses. Julian said that if anybody heard gunshots, they would dismiss it as nail guns because the construction workers put in overtime when time was of the essence, which was a term of art in the construction business.

  Allie trundled behind them, her sandals sticking in the mud. She’d taken a shower, put on a nice yellow sundress, and blown her hair dry, though it was frizzing. She had dressed up for David, but he had barely said two words to her, and if he shared her nervousness, it didn’t show. He looked handsome in his tennis whites and the wide red bandanna around his forehead. She’d quit running, but she lost a pound riding her bike up and down Palomino Road, hoping to run into him.

  David was in the back of her mind all the time. She’d fall asleep kissing her pillow, pretending she was kissing him, and it felt real except for the cat hair. She was so ready to lose her kiss-virginity to him, and she felt excited just walking close to him.

  They headed toward the site, and Allie wished they had left the gun buried. She wouldn’t have come today except that David had called her last night and asked. She’d felt such a charge hearing his voice. She hadn’t heard anything from him before that. They had exchanged screen names so they could message each other. David had liked hers, which was AllieOop918. It had been Jill’s idea.

  “Watch your step, Sash.” Julian pointed at the deep ruts in the mud.

  “If I get hurt, can I sue you?”

  “Good luck.” Julian gave her a playful shove, and they passed yellow and red construction vehicles that read CASE and TAKEUCHI.

  Sasha asked him, “Are those tractors or what?”

  “A trackhoe, a backhoe, and a skid steer.”

  “How about this?” Sasha pointed to long green tubes that ran along the muddy ground like fabric snakes.

  “Silt fencing to control the runoff. This section is going to be called Vicmead Hunt. It’s only ‘carriage houses,’ which means twins. Marketing is everything.”

  Allie could tell that Julian felt proud, and David looked over at her with a sly smile. “Guess what, I’m reading that book you recommended. Infinite Jest.”

  “Really?” David smiled wider.

  “Yes, and it’s so thick!”

  “I know, I love it.” David chuckled, his eyes lighting up.

  “I started reading it, and it’s amazing.” Allie warmed inside, happy that her trip to the library had paid off. Of course she wasn’t the one who liked thick books, Jill was. Allie had just told David that to match him. She liked reading, but she was a slow reader compared to Jill, and Infinite Jest made her feel dumb because it had so many SAT vocab words.

  “How far along are you?”

  “I’m in the beginning. I just got it yesterday.” Allie had gone to the library the day after David had told her about the book. She didn’t want to say she was only at page fifteen because that sounded pathetic.

  “I love the beginning.” David grinned. “Hal Incandenza in the job interview.”

  “Right, yes.” Allie remembered that Hal Incandenza was the character, but she couldn’t tell if it was a joke name or a real name. She hadn’t even known it was about a job interview until David just said.

  “What do you think of his writing?”

  “The writing is so good, and he seems so smart.” Allie thrilled to see David nod, and a lock of hair fell into his eye, which made him look gorgeous.

  “He’s a genius, officially. The year after he wrote Infinite Jest, he got a MacArthur genius grant.”

  “Wow.” Allie hadn’t even known there was such a thing as an official genius.

  “He’s won other prizes, too, like the Whiting Award. He published his first book when he was only twenty-four.”

  “Really?” Allie asked, though she remembered that David had told her that already, but she didn’t mind. She could listen to him talk about David Foster Wallace all day.

  “His father taught philosophy in college, and his mother taught English.”

  “Wow.” Allie wished she could think of something to say other than wow, but she was starting to get nervous. She was walking right behind Julian’s backpack, and inside were the gun and bullets. They were getting closer to the entrance of the construction site, and soon they’d be shooting the gun.

  Julian led them to a double-wide gate in the fence, locked with a heavy chain and a combination padlock. He examined the padlock and thumbed the dials. “Gimme a minute.”

  Sasha stood next to him. “How do you know the combination?”

  “They keep it the same on all the sites. It’s 911 with a 0 in front, because you need four numbers.” Julian unlocked the gate and opened one side with a flourish. “Entrez, milady.”

  “Awesome!” Sasha popped through the gate. “Where now?”

  “We’re going past the houses to the end of the site, by the woods. The turnpike’s on the other side, and the traffic will drown out the gunshots. That’s why these lots suck. Turnpike noise.”

  “Race me!” Sasha took off, sprinting away in her tank and shorts from cross-country. Julian bolted after her, his backpack bumping along, a sight that made Allie cringe.

  “I wish he wouldn’t run with the gun and the bullets.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen.” David chuckled, and Allie looked around, as they walked along a gravel path. Houses and wood skeletons lined what was going to be the street. A few houses were wrapped in white paper that read KINGSPAN GREENGUARD NV HOMES. Porta-Johns stood on one corner, among piles of white pipes and lumber wrapped in plastic.

  Allie watched Sasha and Julian finish their race at the end of the street. Julian hugged Sasha, laughing.

  “She won.” David’s dark eyes narrowed in the sunlight as he looked up the street.

  “Where did he get the bullets?”

  “I don’t know. Sasha wanted them, so he got them.”

  “But where?”

  David shrugged. “I assume he bought them.”

  “Can you just do that?” Allie was getting close enough to see Sasha and Julian take out the newspaper with the gun and a small cardboard box, which probably contained the bullets. She shuddered. “You can’t walk into a store and buy bullets at our age.”

  David didn
’t answer, and they passed a big white trailer with a door and windows, with a brown banner that read BROWNE LAND MANAGEMENT, then walked down the gravel street, rutted deeply, passing numbered signs that read LOT AVAILABLE. Boxy green drains stuck up out of the dirt among piles of boards that were broken and studded with nails. A rusty red Blosenski dumpster brimmed with drywall, boards, and trash. There was nobody around, but that didn’t make Allie feel better.

  “You okay?” David shot her a sympathetic look, and Allie would have been sorry she’d come except that she was standing close to him.

  “I’m worried. Why are we even doing this?”

  “Sasha wants to shoot.”

  “Why?” Allie kept an eye on Sasha and Julian, who had reached the wooded area.

  “Because that’s Sasha.” David glanced over. “Julian says she has too much MAO, or not enough, I forget which. It means she likes risk.”

  “Oh great.” Allie watched Julian and Sasha open a yellow box of bullets that read REMINGTON, then load the gun. “Do they even know what they’re doing?”

  “It’s not rocket science. Do you want a turn?”

  “No way. Do you?”

  “No. I’ve shot a rifle. Relax.” David patted her back, and Allie loved the warm weight of his hand. They reached the end of the street, where scraggly grass struggled to grow through the stones, silt fences, and construction debris. Allie heard the whoosh on the turnpike, but it didn’t sound loud enough to hide gunshots.

  David asked Julian, “Dude, where’d you get the bullets?”

  “The job trailer.” Julian snapped the gun’s cylinder closed. “I’ve known Mac, the project manager on this job, since I was little. He keeps a gun and bullets in his desk. There’s payroll checks and petty cash in the trailer. Sometimes people steal tools, copper piping, and scrap metal.”

  Allie felt more worried. “Won’t he notice the bullets are missing?”