Lisa Scottoline - Save Me

Rose pressed END, slipped the phone back into her pocket, and put the fire out of her mind. The rift with Leo and the news about Thomas Pelal had put everything in perspective. She had to take care of her family, keep praying for Amanda, and let the lawyers and their investigator take care of the litigation and criminal charges. She’d call Oliver in the morning, tell him what Kurt had said, and let it be his problem. She’d use the time at the lake to get herself centered and wrestle with the question of what to tell Melly about Thomas Pelal.

“Googie, come!” Rose called, and the little spaniel looked up, her bugged-out eyes making blood-red spots in the dark. They’d be leaving first thing in the morning, and she wanted to straighten up the kitchen before she went to bed, so she went into bribe mode.

“Googie, treat!” she said, and the dog came trotting. Rose shooed her inside the kitchen and gave her a biscuit, then got to work, straightening the clutter of papers on the counter. She spent a half hour reading the unopened mail, taking the bills out and stacking them for payment, then setting aside the stack of school notices: a flyer for a Pumpkin Carving Contest, a permission slip that had to be returned for a field trip to go apple-picking, and a reminder about the school’s Halloween Parade. She flashed on Thomas Pelal in his ghost costume, then skimmed the notice:

Parents, Please remember not to park in the faculty lot the morning of the Halloween Parade! In case of emergency, we need that to keep those extras spaces open…

Rose thought of the fire, the ambulance, then Amanda. She gathered up the papers, stacked them, and at the bottom found the school newsletter for September, which they’d given out on opening day. She remembered that day, when Reesburgh Elementary was brand-new and she’d had such great hopes for moving here. She hadn’t known Leo felt differently. She looked at the flyer, with its proud banner headline REESBURGH READER. Under Meet the Office Staff,the front page showed Mr. Rodriguez, the guidance counselor, and the secretaries standing in front of the counter. She scanned the smiling faces, knowing she could never sue them, ever.

She turned the page, and a subhead read Meet the Teachers and Staff,with photos of the gym, music, and art teachers, then the head janitor and his staff, and the two cafeteria ladies, Serena and Ellen. Rose felt a pang, seeing their smiles. It was awful to think they’d been killed because somebody had been careless. She turned to the next page, to Meet the Library Staff,and a photo of the librarian and her aide, grinning in the neat stacks. Rose would never forget the kindness of the librarian who had helped her get Melly to the ambulance.

There were two photos under the headline, Meet the Special Services and Gifted Teachers.The one on the left showed three special services teachers, who helped kids with ADHD, ADD, and the like, and the photo on the right showed Kristen Canton, who looked pretty and carefree. Rose felt a nub of resentment that Kristen still hadn’t called Melly and made a mental note to try tomorrow. Then she looked at the photos again. Both showed the various teachers standing in the teachers’ lounge, in front of the counter. The room was small, and the pictures were taken from the door, showing the entire lounge. On the left was a galley kitchen, with a toaster, microwave, and coffeemaker, and next to that was an oven and a tall refrigerator. The room contained six round lunch tables, and there weren’t any cans of polyurethane around, or any construction debris. The lounge looked perfectly clean and ready for use, and the cabinets looked shellacked. She turned the newsletter over to double-check the date, and it was dated the first day of school. The picture had to have been taken before school opened, to make it into the newsletter.

Rose thought back to when she had visited the school, the night after the fire. Kurt had taken her around, and it felt like so long ago. She’d been thinking of Amanda then, especially when she’d found the charred videogame. But she’d seen the cafeteria, the kitchen, and clear through to the teachers’ lounge. The wall that had blown up had been between the kitchen and the teachers’ lounge. That was where the gas leak and faulty wiring must have been. She didn’t know what it meant, or if it meant anything, and anyway, it wasn’t her problem anymore. She added it to the list of things to tell Oliver, put the newsletter into the pile, and deemed the kitchen cleaned.

“Bedtime, Googie.” Rose shooed the dog to the stairwell, then checked the clock on the stove. 10:55, almost time for the eleven o’clock news. She was curious if they’d run the story about Thomas Pelal again, so she went into the family room, picked up the remote, and clicked on the TV, keeping the volume on mute. She didn’t need to hear her past played out again, or risk waking the kids up.

Commercials came on for Boniva and Chevy trucks, then the male news anchor popped onto the screen, with a banner behind him that read WAREHOUSE FIRE. If they were going to rerun the feature, it would probably be at the end of the half hour, so Rose sat down on the couch, and the dog jumped up beside her, nudging onto her lap. The next story was of a gas-station shooting, and then an old bridge collapsed outside of Camden; Rose knew because of the banner, and she considered watching the news with the sound off all the time, because none of the stories had any emotional impact. She petted the dog’s soft head, which felt like a baseball with fur.

The banner changed again, this time to BREAKING NEWS, and Rose felt impatient, since she had learned long ago that breaking news was neither breaking nor news. She watched as the screen went live to an aerial shot of a highway at night, with the shoulder surrounded by police cruisers, their red lights flashing. There must have been a traffic accident, and she thought instantly of Leo, driving back to the city. She reached for the remote and clicked the sound on.

The anchorman was saying, “… called to the scene of a fatal accident on Route 76, heading eastbound.”

Rose frowned. Route 76 was the expressway, back to Philly.

“The two passengers in the car were pronounced dead at the scene. They have been identified as Hank Powell, twenty-seven, and Kurt Rehgard, thirty-one, both of Phoenixville.”

What? Rose wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. It couldn’t be possible. It must have been a different Kurt Rehgard. Her Kurt Rehgard had just called her. She had just listened to his message. She hit PAUSE and ran the TV broadcast back until the highway shots reappeared on the screen, then hit PLAY.

“… identified as Hank Powell, twenty-seven, and Kurt Rehgard, thirty-one…”

Rose watched the rest of the report unfold, stunned. It had to be the same Kurt Rehgard. It was such an uncommon name, and he’d sounded a little buzzed. He’d been out partying with friends.

You can meet my new buddies.

She pulled out her phone, thumbed the rollerball until she got to the phone function, and checked the time of his call. 10:06 P.M. Then she checked the current time. 11:12 P.M. She realized what must have happened. Kurt had left the bar, buzzed, after he’d called her, and driven home with his friend. And now they were dead.

The news went on and on, then the commercials, but Rose didn’t hear or see anything on the screen. There had been too much death lately, too much destruction.

It was a long time before she felt strong enough to stand.

It was a sunny morning, and Rose hit the BREW button on the Keurig, already on her second cup of coffee. She’d hardly slept last night, thinking of Kurt, Thomas Pelal, and Amanda. Leo hadn’t called, and she hadn’t called to tell him about Kurt’s death because she knew he was busy and it seemed random, after their fight. Melly was asleep upstairs, and John sat contentedly in his high chair, chasing dry Cheerios around his tray with wet fingers.