Kevin O'Brien - One Last Scream

Amelia slowly shook her head. “He would never do anything to hurt my mom-or Aunt Ina. I knew him. He was a good man.”

“Well, he was human, too. But you’re right. He wouldn’t intentionally hurt anybody. Amelia, you’ll have to brace yourself for certain…revelations about him.”

“Like what? If you know something, tell me.”

Karen hesitated.

“Is it something the cops are going to tell me?” Amelia asked. “I’d rather hear it from you, Karen. Tell me.”

Karen wondered: Did she really need to know? At the same time, for Amelia to start believing her own innocence in the shootings, she needed to start accepting the fact that her father was guilty. “Okay,” she said, finally. “Your uncle just told this to the police. I’m not sure if you know. But it sounds like your dad and your Aunt Ina had a-an affair. I guess it was very brief and happened about two months ago.”

Amelia said nothing. She absently rinsed the soap suds from her arms and shoulders. “I thought Ina was acting a little weird back in August,” she mumbled, closing her eyes. “I should have guessed it was something like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Karen muttered.

“I’m glad to hear it from you instead of the police-or Uncle George.”

Karen didn’t say anything for a minute. Finally, she sighed. “The police want to see you tomorrow morning,” she said. “I think they’re mostly interested in what you can tell them about your parents-especially your dad. But if they ask what you were doing last night, you need to be very careful how you answer them. I don’t want you wrongly incriminating yourself, because you’ve had these disturbing…visions.”

“Don’t worry, Karen. I won’t say anything to the police. Amelia slid further below the surface, and water sluiced around in the tub. It was up to her chin now. “I was a closet drinker for three years, and no one knew. I became pretty good at covering up and lying. I’ll be okay tomorrow.”

“Well, I don’t want you lying to the police. Just-just don’t incriminate yourself.”

All she could think about was what would happen if Amelia confessed to the shootings. Guilty or innocent, they’d book her immediately. And if Amelia didn’t end up in jail, she’d end up in an institution. She’d be destroyed.

“Listen,” Karen said, “why don’t you call Shane back? Invite him to dinner. I’m sure there’s plenty. Knowing Jessie, she’s made enough to feed an army.”

Amelia nodded. “Yeah, I think I’d feel better if Shane was here. But you’re not leaving, are you?”

“Not unless you want me to,” she said.

“No, I’d really like it if you stuck around, Karen.”

She smiled and got to her feet. “Okay, then. I’ll go tell Jessie to expect one more for dinner.”

Forty-five minutes later, Karen met Shane as he was parking his car in front of the McMillans’ house. She knew him from all the times he’d picked up Amelia after her sessions. With his messy, light brown hair, scruffy beard, and perfect white teeth, he looked like a surfer dude, and talked like one half the time. But he had a good heart and was totally devoted to Amelia.

As Shane climbed out of his VW Golf, Karen saw he’d forgone his usual semi-grunge attire and was dressed up in a blue oxford-cloth shirt and khakis. The unruly hair was slicked back with some product. And she saw something else very out of character for Shane: he was crying.

He gave her a forceful hug, and dropped his head on her shoulder. “Shit, I can’t believe they’re dead,” he cried. “How is she? How’s Amelia doing?”

“She’s okay. She just had a bath.” Karen patted his back, then gently pulled away. “Listen, Amelia can’t remember exactly where she took the car last night. She talked to you earlier about the gas.”

He wiped his nose with the back of his hand and nodded. “Yeah, looks like she used up about half a tank, but I don’t care. Screw the car. I just feel so bad-”

“How many miles can you get on half a tank in that car?” she asked.

He glanced back at the VW and shrugged. “About a hundred and fifty. What’s the big deal with the car?”

She didn’t go to Wenatchee , Karen assured herself. That was at least 150 miles one way . “Listen, have you cleaned or swept out your car at all since picking it up at my place?”

Mystified, Shane shook his head.

“Amelia thinks she might have left something in it. Do you mind if I take a look?”

He shrugged. “Knock yourself out.”

Karen checked the seat and floor on the driver’s side. There wasn’t a drop of blood or a bloody rag anywhere; there was nothing unusual except an empty tequila bottle. Karen checked the glove compartment, then popped the trunk and checked in there. Nothing.

“Busted,” Shane said, nodding at the tequila bottle. “Did she tell you she fell off the wagon last night?”

“Yes, but we’ll worry about that later.” Karen tossed the empty bottle in a recycling bin at the end of the McMillans’ driveway. Then she gave Shane a nudge. “C’mon, I’m counting on you to make sure Amelia puts away some dinner. She hasn’t eaten a thing all day.”

Amelia ate, thank God. Shane sat next to her at the kitchen table. Jessie had set all six places in hopes that Jody might come out of his bedroom and join them. She’d used her charms, along with a root beer and a plateful of chicken tetrazzini and garlic bread, to gain temporary access to his room.

To Karen’s amazement, fifteen minutes into their dinner, Jody shuffled in with a near-empty plate in his hand. He was a good-looking kid, lean with brown eyes and wavy brown hair. “Is there any more of this stuff?” he asked quietly.

Jessie sprung up from the table and grabbed his plate. She got him a second helping-and got him to sit with them at the table. Shane asked Jody if he could crash in his room for the night. Whichever bunk was free, he didn’t care. He just didn’t want to be far from Amelia. If Jody still needed to be alone, he didn’t show it. In fact, he seemed honored to have his cousin’s boyfriend, a college guy, asking to bunk with him for the night.

Karen sat at the head of the crowded table in Ina McMillan’s breakfast nook. She remembered how she’d eaten dinner alone in front of the TV the night after Haley had died, and she’d done the same thing the night she’d put her father in Sandpoint View Convalescent Home. She wasn’t feeling sorry for herself; she just wished she had family.

She looked at Amelia on the other side of the table. Shane had his arm around her. But Amelia stared back at her with a sad little smile. She nodded, and silently mouthed the words, Thank you, Karen .

Karen smiled and nodded back. And she felt as if she had family after all.

When George trudged through the front door at 12:40 A.M., Jessie began heating up his dinner. He made the rounds, checking in on his kids, kissing them goodnight, and then briefly chatting with Amelia and Shane, who were down in the basement, watching TV.

When he came back up upstairs, Karen asked to talk to him alone. He looked so tired and depleted, but said, “Of course.” They stopped by the kitchen, where he poured them each a glass of wine-and another for Jessie. Then Karen followed him into the study. He closed the door after her, then nodded toward the easy chair. “Please, have a seat.”

Karen sat down. “Thanks. And thank you for getting the police off Amelia’s case today. She was very confused and distraught this afternoon, understandably so. But-well, it wouldn’t have been good for her to talk to anyone, especially the police.”

“Did she tell you about her premonition?” he asked.

Karen nodded. “Yes, sort of.”