house he considered a frightful concoction of strange angles and loud colors.
While she poured water into a huge fern hanging at a window, Christine gazed beyond the deck and into the backyard, which she hoped would be a riot of colorful flowers come summer. On this dismal evening, though, that scene was hard to imagine. The wall of evergreens bordering the back of the lawn raised dripping limbs against a gunmetal sky. A forlorn sparrow sat on the edge of the bird feeder, and rain had beaten down the heads of six daffodils that had bloomed too soon, tricked by a few early warm days. Water stood in all the cracks between the flagstones of the walk leading down the slope to the patio outside Jeremy’s basement entrance,a patio she hoped would accommodate some summer barbecues.
Christine filled the coffeemaker, and in a few minutes the smell of Jeremy’s favorite raspberry-chocolate blend coffee filled the kitchen. She took his favorite thermal mug out of the cabinet and her own sturdy earthenware cup she favored over china.
“The place looks so cool!” Jeremy exclaimed as he bound up the basement stairs and into the kitchen. “You didn’t tell me you got me a Ping-Pong table!”
“Early birthday gift,” Christine managed as Jeremy gave her a bear hug. “You can have your friends over to play.”
“Like Danny. Since he doesn’t live beside Ames anymore, I hardly ever get to see him. And I’ve got my own door to the outside, too. People don’t have to go through
your
place to get to
my
place!”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“It’s super. Hey, will that coffee keep me awake? ’Cause I have to go into the store early tomorrow.”
“We’re not opening until ten.”
“I have to go earlier.”
“Why?”
“It’s a secret. Let’s go watch TV.”
Christine pretended to concentrate on shows that seemed to enthrall Jeremy, but she really wasn’t paying the slightest attention. All she could think about was Ames in Charleston viewing a ravaged body that might be his daughter’s. At ten o’clock she felt ready to scream with tension when the phone rang. She leaped from her chair and grabbed up the receiver. “Hello?”
A ragged voice emitted a couple of agonized sounds before Ames said, “H-her.”
“Ames? I can barely hear you.”
“The body. It’s . . . it’s Dara.”
She’d been sure ever since Deputy Winter told them about the body being washed ashore that it was Dara’s. Now her mind did not want to accept it. “You can’t be sure,” she said quickly, wrenched by the sound of his tormented voice. “Not until they’ve run tests. They have to do DNA testing—”
“The ring.”
“What about the ring?”
“In the plastic wrapping they found her ring. The ruby-and-diamond ring I gave her for her high school graduation.” He sounded like he was choking before he ground out, “It had her initials engraved inside.
DMP
. Dara Marie Prince. And the graduation date . . . Oh God, Christine—”
“Ames, are you on the road?”
“No. Home.”
“Is Patricia there?”
“What? I don’t know.”
“If she isn’t, I’m coming right over.” Jeremy stood by her side now, his expression frightened. “You shouldn’t be alone.”
“Don’t come over.”
“Yes, I insist—”
“Don’t come, Christine.” Patricia’s voice, crisp and cold, had replaced Ames’s. “I’m here. I’ll take care of my husband. You look after Jeremy. We don’t need him here on top of everything else.”
The phone clicked in Christine’s ear.
And so the hope Ames had held on to so fiercely for three long years had been crushed on a cold, rainy March day when the Ohio River washed up the forlorn remains of his once-beautiful daughter and left them on a soggy bank like a grotesque offering.
A desolation that surprised her washed over Christine. She turned her face into Jeremy’s chest and cried.
2
An hour later they’d trudged off to their respective bedrooms. Christine had finally
While she poured water into a huge fern hanging at a window, Christine gazed beyond the deck and into the backyard, which she hoped would be a riot of colorful flowers come summer. On this dismal evening, though, that scene was hard to imagine. The wall of evergreens bordering the back of the lawn raised dripping limbs against a gunmetal sky. A forlorn sparrow sat on the edge of the bird feeder, and rain had beaten down the heads of six daffodils that had bloomed too soon, tricked by a few early warm days. Water stood in all the cracks between the flagstones of the walk leading down the slope to the patio outside Jeremy’s basement entrance,a patio she hoped would accommodate some summer barbecues.
Christine filled the coffeemaker, and in a few minutes the smell of Jeremy’s favorite raspberry-chocolate blend coffee filled the kitchen. She took his favorite thermal mug out of the cabinet and her own sturdy earthenware cup she favored over china.
“The place looks so cool!” Jeremy exclaimed as he bound up the basement stairs and into the kitchen. “You didn’t tell me you got me a Ping-Pong table!”
“Early birthday gift,” Christine managed as Jeremy gave her a bear hug. “You can have your friends over to play.”
“Like Danny. Since he doesn’t live beside Ames anymore, I hardly ever get to see him. And I’ve got my own door to the outside, too. People don’t have to go through
your
place to get to
my
place!”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“It’s super. Hey, will that coffee keep me awake? ’Cause I have to go into the store early tomorrow.”
“We’re not opening until ten.”
“I have to go earlier.”
“Why?”
“It’s a secret. Let’s go watch TV.”
Christine pretended to concentrate on shows that seemed to enthrall Jeremy, but she really wasn’t paying the slightest attention. All she could think about was Ames in Charleston viewing a ravaged body that might be his daughter’s. At ten o’clock she felt ready to scream with tension when the phone rang. She leaped from her chair and grabbed up the receiver. “Hello?”
A ragged voice emitted a couple of agonized sounds before Ames said, “H-her.”
“Ames? I can barely hear you.”
“The body. It’s . . . it’s Dara.”
She’d been sure ever since Deputy Winter told them about the body being washed ashore that it was Dara’s. Now her mind did not want to accept it. “You can’t be sure,” she said quickly, wrenched by the sound of his tormented voice. “Not until they’ve run tests. They have to do DNA testing—”
“The ring.”
“What about the ring?”
“In the plastic wrapping they found her ring. The ruby-and-diamond ring I gave her for her high school graduation.” He sounded like he was choking before he ground out, “It had her initials engraved inside.
DMP
. Dara Marie Prince. And the graduation date . . . Oh God, Christine—”
“Ames, are you on the road?”
“No. Home.”
“Is Patricia there?”
“What? I don’t know.”
“If she isn’t, I’m coming right over.” Jeremy stood by her side now, his expression frightened. “You shouldn’t be alone.”
“Don’t come over.”
“Yes, I insist—”
“Don’t come, Christine.” Patricia’s voice, crisp and cold, had replaced Ames’s. “I’m here. I’ll take care of my husband. You look after Jeremy. We don’t need him here on top of everything else.”
The phone clicked in Christine’s ear.
And so the hope Ames had held on to so fiercely for three long years had been crushed on a cold, rainy March day when the Ohio River washed up the forlorn remains of his once-beautiful daughter and left them on a soggy bank like a grotesque offering.
A desolation that surprised her washed over Christine. She turned her face into Jeremy’s chest and cried.
2
An hour later they’d trudged off to their respective bedrooms. Christine had finally
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