Brian Freeman - The Bone House

Tresa shook her head. 'I don't know. I didn't see her in the evening. I mean, I saw her right after I blew it in the competition, but I didn't want to talk. She gave me a hug, but I needed to get out of there. I don't know what she did after I split. I went off on the beach by myself, and I didn't get back to the room until real late. She was already in bed.'

'Was Troy with Glory at your performance on Friday night?'

'Troy? At a girl's dance show? No way.'

'Where was he?'

'In the room, I guess.'

'I talked to a hotel employee who saw Glory at the event center on Friday night,' Cab told her. 'He said she ran past him, and she was crying, and she looked scared. Do you have any idea why?'

'I already told you, no ,' Tresa insisted. She twisted the loose fabric of her T-shirt into a knot, and her eyes grew teary again. 'Don't you think I'd tell you if I knew what happened? When I left her, she was fine. I was the one who was upset.'

Cab eased back in the chair, his long legs stretching out, his arms behind his head. He watched the girl in front of him, and he thought about all of the messes, insecurities, fears, jealousy, pettiness, and traumas of being young. There were so many nicks and cuts that felt deep even when they were shallow and left scars that you could pick at years later. To him, Tresa looked like a typical teenage girl, screwed up in all the ordinary ways, but looks could be deceiving.

He brought his arms back on to the table and leaned forward. 'Tell me about Mark Bradley,' he said.

Tresa recoiled in surprise. 'What about him? How do you know about him?'

'It doesn't matter.'

'Troy told you, didn't he? That stupid jerk.'

'I know Mark Bradley and his wife were here at the hotel this week. I know you and he have some history together.'

Tresa pushed her chair back, physically adding distance between them. 'That was all a misunderstanding.'

'He was a teacher accused of having an affair with a seventeen-year-old student.'

'It didn't happen like that!' Tresa retorted. 'God, all of you are so stupid. No one listened to me. No one believed me.'

'He lost his job.'

'Yes, and it was my fault!'

'Are you in love with him?'

Tresa's face flushed. She tugged at her dirty red hair. 'That's none of your business.'

'Mark Bradley was at your performance on Friday night, wasn't he? Is that why you didn't do well? Did it make you nervous having him there?'

'I choked. The pressure got to me. That's all.'

'What was Mr Bradley's relationship with Glory?' Cab asked.

'None. There was no relationship.'

'Did Glory believe that you and Mark Bradley were having an affair?'

'No! That was my mother. That was all her stupid idea.'

'Did you or Glory have any contact with Bradley this week? Or with his wife?'

Tresa shook her head fiercely. 'No. I didn't even know he was there until I saw him on Friday. We didn't talk to each other.'

'Are you protecting him?' Cab asked.

'From what? He didn't do anything.' She hooded her eyes and stared at her lap. 'Are we done? I need to find my mom.'

'Sure. I understand. You can go.'

Cab watched her as she gathered up used tissues from the table in her fist and left the room. Her face was a pouty mask. He realized that he'd reached a roadblock with Tresa anyway. The girl was shutting him out. What frustrated him was that he still didn't know a thing about Mark Bradley, and he didn't have any evidence about the man, only rumors.

He was an enigma. Was he an angry predator with a predilection for teenage girls or an innocent victim?

Maybe Glory Fischer, drunk, sexually promiscuous, had met Mark Bradley on the beach on Saturday night. Maybe it was an accident or a deliberate rendezvous.

Maybe.

If Glory did meet him, what happened next?

'It was him,' Troy Geier insisted, bolting out of his chair. 'Bradley. He did it. I know it was him. That son of a bitch.'

Cab held up his hands. 'Sit down, Troy. OK? Take it easy.'

The burly sixteen year old paced back and forth between the walls of the interview room and then slumped heavily into the chair again. 'Sorry.'

'You did the right thing by telling us about Mark Bradley. I appreciate it. Right now, though, I want to talk about Glory.'

Troy's big head bobbed. 'Sure. OK.'

Cab sucked out more of his iced latte, which had melted and was mostly warm. He gave Troy a minute to calm down. The teenager was a beefy kid with a broad face dotted by pimples. He had wavy brown hair covered by a baseball cap, which he wore backwards. His flabby chest and huge forearms stretched out the green fabric on his Packers T-shirt. As Cab watched, Troy stuck an index finger between his teeth and chewed on the nail.

'This is my fault,' Troy murmured, his mouth full.

'Why do you say that?'

'I never should have left her alone.'

'You're being pretty hard on yourself,' Cab told him.

'Yeah, but we argued, and it was stupid. She wanted to stay and swim, and I really wanted to see this Will Ferrell movie on TV. I told her to come with me, but she wouldn't, so I just left. Then the movie sucked, and I fell asleep anyway.'

'You never realized Glory hadn't come back?'

'I was out like a light. The bartender snuck me a couple beers for a few bucks. I crashed.'

The bartender. Ronnie Trask obviously had a thriving business funneling alcohol to minors. It was a spring break tradition in Florida.

'Tell me a little more about Glory, OK?' Cab went on. 'How long have you known her?'

Troy shrugged. 'Pretty much all our lives. We go to school together. Both of our families have been in Door County forever. We're natives, but now it's all rich fibs moving in, buying up the land.'

'Fibs?' Cab asked.

'Fucking Illinois Bastards.'

Cab smothered a smile. 'When did the two of you start dating?'

'Last year. She had a bad summer break-up. She was dating an older kid who was staying on the peninsula for the summer. A tourist. She figured he loved her, but he was just in it for the sex. After he dumped her, I think she decided she wanted someone who really wanted her. That's me.'

'What was Glory like?' Cab asked.

'She was super cute. Really outgoing, doing things a mile a minute. Me, I'm pretty shy, and I always felt like I was running to keep up with her.'

'Was it exclusive between the two of you?'

'Oh, yeah. Definitely.'

Cab was dubious. 'Are you sure it was exclusive for her?'

'Absolutely. After school, we were going to get married.'

'Was that your plan or hers?'

'Mine, but Glory wanted it too.'

'Most girls aren't looking for a serious relationship at sixteen,' Cab told him.

'Well, I loved her, and she loved me,' Troy insisted. 'We weren't thinking about college. You go to college, and they ship your job over-seas these days. I figured we'd both work at my dad's restaurant after we graduated. That's where Glory's mom works. When my dad retires, I figure I'll take it over, although he tells me I can't handle it.'

'Why does he say that?'

Troy frowned. 'Oh, he never thinks I can do anything right. He still thinks I'm a dumb kid.'

Cab thought about what Tresa had said. Troy's father didn't treat him well, and neither did Glory. Despite his size, Troy looked like the kind of boy who got kicked in the head and came back on his knees for more punishment. At some point, all the kicks probably felt like love.

'I heard that Glory was a wild child,' Cab told him. 'Sex, drugs, drinking. Is that true?'

'Sure, Glory liked to do crazy stuff sometimes. Drugs once in a while, but nothing heavy. She'd get me to sneak some wine from my dad's restaurant on the weekends. So what?'

'Sex?'

'Yeah, we had sex. Glory was cool about it.'