At first what was happening was isolated among the four people it was happening to—the three Malcors and Phillip Laney, who appeared to be having some sort of breakdown. It took a few minutes for Anissa to register the disturbance as something beyond a normal display of grief.
The awareness quickly traveled past her to everyone in the church—outward from the front pew, into and across the aisle, and backward, into the rows behind them. People began elbowing and clutching each other, murmuring as they tried to process what was happening.
For a moment, Anissa stood frozen in place a few feet away, unsure if this was a threat and what to do about it if it was. To pull the family out of the situation was to stop their son’s funeral before it had really gotten started. She watched as the seconds ticked by and Phillip Laney became increasingly agitated.
She caught Pete Lancaster’s eye and he dipped his chin, indicating that they both should move toward the situation. In one smooth movement, as if they’d planned it, she moved toward Tabitha Malcor and he moved toward Phillip Laney. Neither protested as they were led out of the front pew. Anissa led the three Malcors through the choir entrance at the front of the church, and Pete hustled Phillip out the back.
Once they were safely behind the closed doors of the choir room, the three Malcors all began talking at once.
“What’s going on?” Tabitha asked at the same time that Thaddeus blurted out, “What the hell was that?” A sheepish expression filled his face as he glanced around at his surroundings. “Sorry for the language,” he said. He looked at Anissa. “But seriously, I don’t know what that was about.”
Daniel spoke up. “I think I do.” Tabitha and Thaddeus looked back at him with matching confused expressions.
“If he didn’t kill Davy himself, he had something to do with it,” Daniel explained.
Thaddeus was already shaking his head before Daniel could finish his sentence. “Dad, he was with me that night. He—”
“He was with you the whole time?” Daniel asked.
Thaddeus’s head drooped. “Well, no, not the whole time. But he was just a kid. Like me. Like Davy. Why would a kid harm another kid? How could a kid kill another kid?”
Daniel shrugged, his face impassive. “Maybe it was an accident. Maybe he was too afraid to tell what happened. Maybe he’s carried that guilt since that night and that’s what we saw today. He couldn’t carry it anymore.”
Anissa thought of her own guilt, also carried since that night. She thought of Gordon’s tears in his kitchen. She looked at the three people she stood with and knew they, too, knew what it was to carry guilt about a night that refused to be in the past.
Tabitha spoke up. “He was there.” She looked at Daniel and he nodded, then she looked at Thaddeus to explain. “He came to the search site the other day. He came over and talked to us. He said—”
She looked at Daniel again. “Danny, do you remember what he said?” Daniel shook his head. Tabitha hung hers. “I don’t really either.”
Anissa spoke up and they all turned in her direction as if they’d forgotten she was there.
“You’re right,” she said. “He was there. I saw him talking to you guys. I nearly went over to check on you, to make sure he wasn’t hassling you. But you looked fine.”
“We were fine,” Tabitha said. “He didn’t feel like a threat.” She looked at the other three faces in the room with her. “I always thought if I encountered the person who hurt Davy, the hairs on the back of my neck would stand up, or . . . something. That I’d know somehow. He was in my house countless times after . . .” She shook her head. “It just doesn’t make sense.”
Remembering her position, Anissa spoke up. “I’m sure the sheriff will get to the bottom of it. I’m sure he’s already headed to the station to question Phillip Laney, and I know he’ll fill you in just as soon as he can.” She rested her hand on Tabitha’s shoulder.
“Answers are coming,” she said, hoping she sounded reassuring, in charge, capable. That was all she ever wanted to be. “Now,” she continued, “should we go back out and finish the service?” She was already walking to get the door for them before they could answer the question. She was grateful when they all came along.
* * *
After the service, she saw the Malcors back to their car and secured promises from them that they would go straight home and not discuss with anyone what had happened until they knew more. She watched until their car left the parking lot, then went back into the sanctuary to collect her things. The church was empty, but Davy’s image remained on the screen. She looked away from him, scanning the panel of stained glass windows on the far wall instead, her gaze stopping at the Tree of Life.
There’d been a stint when her mother was dating a church deacon and Anissa had been dragged to Sunday school each week. She remembered bits and pieces from that short time—object lessons that still rattled around in her brain. Looking at the tree, she recalled that Adam and Eve were banished from the garden of Eden before they could eat from that tree. Because they had eaten from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, they were no longer perfect. If they’d eaten from the Tree of Life, too, they’d have lived forever in their imperfect state.
People often thought God punished Adam and Eve by sending them away from the garden, but in truth he was only making sure they’d still have a shot at redemption. Everyone, she thought, deserved that shot—even her, she decided. She thought of Thaddeus’s defense of Phillip.
“He was just a kid,” he’d said. As was she.
She looked back at Davy, there, on the large screen, looming over them all just as he always had.
“I’m sorry,” she said to him. Then she added, “I’ll always love you best of all.”
She stood for her own moment of silence before turning away, a smile blooming on her face as she walked out of the church, her mind on where she was headed and the news she had to share.
* * *
When Gordon didn’t answer his door, she remembered what he’d said about honoring Davy through his work. She wondered what piece of art he would make to honor Davy and hoped he would let her see it.
She went around the house toward where Gordon’s studio was, stopping short when she saw Gordon standing in the yard beside a little boy, overseeing as the kid sprayed a hose. She recalled the kid who ran off that first morning she’d stopped by and wondered if it was the same kid. They could almost be father and son, she thought. She called Gordon’s name, but he couldn’t hear her over the sound of the water, so she walked closer.
The kid turned and saw her first, the water spraying in her direction as she sidestepped out of the way.
“Whoa there, partner,” Gordon said to the kid. “Gotta keep your aim on the target.” He looked at Anissa and she thought she saw the slightest blush creeping onto his cheeks as he greeted her. She could feel her own cheeks warming too. She went to stand beside Gordon and watched as the kid moved the hose back and forth over an assortment of what looked like a pile of scrap metal.
After a moment, she asked, “What are you guys doing?”
“Well, this is Stuart,” Gordon said. “He’s my next-door neighbor.” Gordon looked at Stuart, who nodded. “And he’s helping me with my rust garden.”
“Rust garden?” she asked.
“I use a lot of metal in my sculptures,” Gordon explained. “But I don’t want it to look shiny and new. I like it to be aged, weathered, a little battered-looking. The imperfection adds texture, character, personality—whatever you want to call it—to a piece. But it can take a long time to get to that state, so I help the rusting process along by wetting the metal.” He walked over to the spigot and turned off the water. “In its own way, rust makes things more beautiful.”
Their eyes met. “I have news,” she said.
Though she didn’t know the full story, she knew suspicion had been cast in a new direction. For the first time eyes would be looking in that direction instead of Gordon’s. And if things went the way she thought they would, she felt sure he’d be exonerated once and for all, possibly before the day was through.
“Hey, Stuart,” Gordon said to the kid. “I need to talk to this nice lady about some grown-up stuff. You should probably head on home.”
Stuart didn’t try to hide his disappointment. “But I wanted to help you make the lady’s curls.”
Anissa’s hand went to her own hair as she and Gordon exchanged a look.
“We can do that another time. Right now I’ve got a guest I need to talk to,” Gordon said.
“Ok,” Stuart said, though it was clear he didn’t really think it was ok. The boy started to walk away, then stopped and looked back at them. Anissa could hear the water dripping off the metal items, making a chorus of plinking sounds. It was almost like music. “But I can come back, right? I can come back later?” Stuart asked, hopeful.
“Anytime,” Gordon said. “You’re welcome here anytime you want.”
As the kid disappeared into the woods, Anissa felt Gordon’s hand reach for hers. Neither looked at the other as they grasped hands. But they quickly let go when they heard the sound of a car pulling into Gordon’s driveway.