CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The Neighbor

CLARA

“I need to ask you a few questions. May I come inside?”

I imagined myself saying ‘no’ then closing the door in his face.

“Of course, Sam.” I stepped back and gestured for him to come inside. “Would you like some coffee? Water, maybe? It’s hot out there, I know.” I led the way into the kitchen.

My dining room table was tiny. At most, it could seat four, and right now the leaf was down and there were only two chairs. I’d forgotten to take the trash out today and I realized it had a smell.

“Water would be great,” Sergeant Sam said, taking the seat closest to the trash can, his nose twitching as he sat down.

After I got his water, I took the seat across from him, forcing myself to breathe slowly. Right away, I noticed how sweaty he looked, and stressed.

Maybe he’s stressed because he knows I killed his friend. He’s about to tell me they found Andy’s decaying corpse, I thought, desperately. Without asking if he minded, I pulled out my pack of Camels and lit one.

If my smoking bothered him, he didn’t let on.

“The dogs were too wound up out there. We couldn’t keep them away from your side of the land. Especially the barn. I’m sorry, Clara.”

Here it comes, I thought. But why hasn’t he arrested me yet?

“We had to contain the search to the inside of the cabin for the time being. They didn’t cause too much of a ruckus on your side, I promise.”

My body shook with relief. If it was anyone else searching my land, they probably would have found the body. But Sam and I went way back; we’d known each other for years.

“Right now, they’re spraying a chemical called luminol inside the cabin. It will glow blue in the presence of blood.”

Images of that rusty red stain on the floor sprung into my mind, as I took a deep drag. “But don’t you already know there’s blood?” I said, coughing forcefully. I stubbed the cig out, disgusted with myself for smoking the whole thing so fast.

Sam frowned. “We took some samples already. But sometimes, we can see more if the perpetrator has cleaned up the scene. Sometimes, we can even see the manner of death.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he said, still looking grim. The butt was still smoking in the ashtray. Sam stubbed at it for me, staring into the murky ashtray as though it held the answers to my tenant’s disappearance. “I need to ask you a few questions, Clara.”

“Sure. Of course.” I was smiling, despite myself, so relieved they hadn’t uncovered my deep, dark secret. Yet.

“I’d like you to look at this picture and see if this is the truck you saw?” Sergeant Sam pushed his cell phone across the table toward me. It was a picture taken of a small, black pick-up.

I stared at the picture, trying to keep myself composed. “Where did you see this truck?” I asked, my voice sounding steadier than it felt.

“It’s about a quarter of a mile from here, parked in that dirt turnabout near Widow’s Curve.” That’s not what it was actually called, but everyone in Northfolk knew where Widow’s Curve was. It was only a ten-minute walk from here.

“Anyone inside the truck?” I asked, the picture turning blurry as I focused too hard.

“No. It was abandoned there. No license plates, nothing. I think this might be the truck you saw parked in front of Nova’s cabin on the night she went missing.”

I cleared my throat, looking over at my pack of cigs wistfully. I wasn’t wondering if I’d seen the truck before because I already knew that I had.

“No, I don’t think so. The truck I saw looked larger. Higher up from the ground.”

“But you said it was dark. Hard to tell color and size from all the way across the field…”

“Yeah. Maybe,” I agreed. Why was that truck parked near Widow’s Curve? It wasn’t supposed to be there.

My stomach filled with dread. This whole time, I’d been worried about them finding Andy’s body, when all along, I had bigger things to be concerned about.

“You okay? You looked peaked,” Sam said.

“Fine. This whole thing has sucked the life out of me. I’m worried about my tenant and her little girl. Don’t want that husband of hers turning up here again. You think I’m in danger?”

Sam shook his head. “No, I don’t. But I can have one of my officers keep an eye out for you tonight. To be honest, I’m not totally convinced that the husband did this. The details are more complicated…I shouldn’t be telling you this, but Martin Nesbitt’s truck is parked right now nearly twelve hours away. We’re searching through it. I can’t help wondering if it’s just a coincidence, the two trucks…”

“You said there were other things you wanted to ask me,” I said, eager to be alone and get my thoughts straight. I needed a cigarette. And I needed this talk to be over with.

“I wanted to ask you about this, too.” Sam bent down, lifting up a clear plastic bag. He’d carried it in under his armpit, but I hadn’t noticed what was inside. Now, he sat its contents on the table and looked at me.

It was an ugly stuffed rabbit with button eyes. I’d seen it, and many like it, a thousand times before.

“When Officer James told me that they found a stuffed rabbit in the child’s bed, I didn’t think anything of it. But then today, I saw it in the evidence locker. I recognized it immediately—didn’t Andy used to make these?”

I nodded, solemnly. Andy was obsessed with that old sewing machine of his. Besides drinking, it was the only thing that he ever seemed to commit to. Why he chose to make creepy stuffed toys was beyond me. The girls always hated having them in their room. Eventually, I shoved them all into a plastic bag. Like the other unused items in the basement, the bag of bunnies was sitting in a corner. Collecting dust, just like me.

“Any idea why one of Andy’s stuffed rabbits would be found in the bed of a missing child?” Sam asked.

I cleared my throat, nodding again. “It was me. I’m the one who put it there,” I admitted.