He calls out after her as she strides across the precinct, buttoning up her coat against the cold. “You aren’t in trouble, are you, Suzie?”
She shakes her head, keeps walking. She knows he will be puzzled—stunned, even. He’ll mope all afternoon, and come dinnertime she will have to coax him gently out of his bad mood like a tortoise out of its shell.
Suzie has never gone off without telling him what she is doing, not even when her father had his first heart attack. Still, the idea of explaining to Teddy about the secret messages, the candles, the lemon juice, the cats in a suitcase buried at the back of the wardrobe—he would never understand. He hadn’t grown up here, with the woods on all sides and the strange lights that sometimes flicker in the darkest parts of the forest. He doesn’t know the old stories about paths that suddenly dead-ended or turned you round, or how brambles seemed to snatch at you like grasping fingers.
People talked about how the woods put funny ideas into the minds of men like Joseph Bray, who slaughtered his whole family out there in the pines and who was buried at the crossroad with a stake through his heart. Teddy doesn’t know any of this, so Teddy wouldn’t get it. Best kept that way, Suzie thinks.
24
Suzie turns onto Knox Row fifteen minutes later. She doesn’t know Cathy’s address but she’s hoping if she knocks on enough doors, she’ll be able to find her. The street is daytime quiet; there is the distant sound of a dog barking and the muffled thud of music coming from a house a little farther ahead, but there are no people, no little children playing. Suzie is starting to think this is a bad idea.Should have just taken the note to the police, instead of running off like that and leaving poor Teddy. You’ll be in trouble if the area manager comes in.
Normally, this internal pressure would be enough to send Suzie scurrying back to work. Being spontaneous doesn’t come naturally, and being irresponsible is practically anathematic to her. Suzie realizes that she hasn’t slept right since she broke into that house.
Which house, Suzie?
She stops the car, ignoring the persistent, sly little voice. Sometimes it sounds like her mother’s voice, sometimes her own. To indulge it, she knows, will give her the equivalent of acid indigestion, only in her head instead of in her stomach. Instead, she slides down the window and leans out, trying to catch the attention of a young boy walking past with a skateboard under his arm. He wearsa cap pushed back on his head and jeans so baggy Suzie thinks they could probably do double duty as a parachute.
“Excuse me! Hey! Are you Danny Maddon?”
The boy looks up and she knows it is him immediately. Nothing is known of Danny’s father—even in a town this size, some secrets stay kept—but whoever he is, he barely registers on this boy’s face. Danny is all Cathy: cheekbones like knife blades, prominent nose, hard jaw. He even has her deep-set, serious eyes. Danny regards Suzie evenly, as if sizing her up.
“I’m looking for your mum. She lives along here, right?”
“Who’re you?” Danny pulls his earbuds out and takes a step off the curb, moving closer. He has a phone in his hand, and Suzie realizes with a sinking heart that he is filming her. “I haven’t seen you before.”
She forces what she hopes is a friendly smile. “I’m a friend of hers. We went to school together. Is she home?”
“How come you don’t know where she lives if you’re her friend?” He lowers the phone, but he’s still looking at her with suspicion.
You’re Cathy’s boy, all right, Suzie tells herself, but she feels sort of sorry for him too. He looks rattled, and he’s obviously trying to protect his mother—from what, Suzie isn’t sure. But he’s just a kid, really. It’s a lot to carry on his shoulders.
“I just need to give her something, Danny, that’s all.”
He hesitates, and she is sure he is about to turn around and walk away, maybe stick his middle finger up for good measure, but then he nods toward the end of the road and tells her, “Last house just before the turning place. It’s the only one with the bins outside because Mum never gets the day right.”
“Thanks, Danny.” She is about to drive on, but Danny remains where he is a moment longer.
He is frowning, as if deep in thought. “Is this about my aunt Hazel?”
Suzie hesitates, unsure what to tell him. Teddy always tells her she is good with children, but she thinks he means the young ones she can get on her knees with and build train tracks and Lego houses and dress up little plastic dolls. She’s useless with teenagers, frightened of them almost. They’re abrasive, like carpet burns.
“Yes. It is.”
“Is she okay? Aunt Hazel was meant to meet us last week, but she never showed up. Mum said she always was a selfish bitch, but deep down I can tell it’s upset her.”
Suzie considers this. “I don’t know, Danny. That’s the truth. IhopeHazel is okay, and I’m sure she never meant to upset you or your mum. Sometimes things just happen that are outside our control.”
Danny shrugs. “I’m not bothered. I haven’t seen Hazel since I was a kid. I always thought she was pretty weird. One time she was babysitting and kept playing tricks on me.”
Suzie leans forward, interested. “What kind of tricks?”
“Dumb stuff. Like, she kept running past my bedroom doorway, but when I called out to her, she was in another part of the house. When she read me a bedtime story, her voice went all deep and it was like she had two voices and one was saying horrible things, but she couldn’t make it stop.” He lifts his chin defiantly, as if daring Suzie to contradict him.
She doesn’t. She nods.
“So yeah, I don’t really care about Aunt Hazel one way or another, but I do care about my mum, so don’t go upsetting her. Okay?”
Suzie tells him she won’t, but it’s a lie. She thinks what she hasto show Cathy is going to scare her quite a lot, but instead she gives Danny her biggest smile and tells him he’s been a great help.