‘I see kids around here,’ Katherine said, ‘well, they have no fear. I’ve seen Chanelle riding around at night, six or seven of them in the back of a truck. Cruising up and down the main street, trying to make something happen.’
‘The street with the statue of William Clement?’
‘Yea.’ Katherine paused. ‘I can’t explain it, but they act like they own the town. I was never completely fearless, even at my worst.’
Vivian envisioned the circular plaza surrounding the statue of Clement. ‘That’s probably the turn-around point,’ she said, ‘where the statue is.’
‘You sound like someone who’s done some cruising yourself.’
Vivian shrugged. ‘Maybe once or twice.’
‘There’s something else.’ Katherine lowered her voice. ‘About a year ago, Chanelle and two local boys got arrested for stealing a car from the mini-mall parking lot. They were raging drunk too. Lucky for them, Sheriff Townsend is an old friend of Kitty’s father. They all got bailed out and the charges were eventually dropped. I think they got some kind of probation.’
‘What about the owner of the car?’
‘She used to work for the sheriff when he owned his construction company.’ She winked. ‘Everything worked out.’
Their salads arrived and for a few moments, they ate in silence.
Katherine sighed. ‘I think Chanelle had a lot of boyfriends, that sort of thing. Pretty much like her mother in that way. But she was still in school. She could have done something with her life, especially with that stubborn streak. Life takes perseverance, doesn’t it? It’s a real shame.’
Vivian set her fork down. ‘I saw the story in The Sentinel.’
‘You know,’ Katherine said. ‘It doesn’t give the exact location. People won’t know it was near your place.’
‘Do you think they’ll want to leave flowers at the site or something?’
‘No, I just thought you wouldn’t want people bothering you.’
‘People? What people?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘They can come over and look if they want to,’ Vivian said. ‘Why? Do people think that we know something, do they…’
Katherine waved her hand, bracelets sounding an alarm. ‘Oh, no, no, no. There are all types, that’s all. The curious, the downright nosy.’
Vivian hadn’t once imagined the possible implications of the girl being found on their property. She had been thinking only of their safety.
‘The man who owns this little cafe is so nice,’ Katherine told her. ‘His father designed the fire station, and the county office addition…’ As she talked, Vivian stayed alone in her thoughts, which weren’t about office additions or salads but instead were vivid contemplations about Chanelle Brodie and the nature of her final moments.
8
When Vivian came in, Nowell was on the telephone, speaking patiently into the receiver, which was propped between his shoulder and ear. ‘I can’t tell you anything until I speak to him. What’s his name again?’ He paced the room, very intent on the conversation, pausing only to give her a brief nod. ‘Richards or Richardson? I’ve got it. And his number?’
The curtain divider to Nowell’s study had been pulled back. Through the window, the back lawn was a vivid, monochrome green. Vivian noticed an empty plate and a fork on the end table near the couch. She stepped down into the room to get them.
‘I’ll call him today or maybe first thing tomorrow. What are you doing? No, not you. Viv, what are you doing?’
She turned with the plate in her hands to show him.
‘Mom, they can’t do that. No, I will call Richards, or is it Richardson? I’ll call him. You just wait to hear from me. I’ll let you know what I find out.’
Vivian set the plate and fork in the sink then walked down the hallway toward their bedroom.
Nowell came in as she was adjusting the straps of her bikini. ‘You’re going outside?’ he asked.
‘Yeah.’
‘My mom said she’d call to talk to you later this week. She’s too upset today.’
‘Why, what happened?’
He sat on the edge of the bed. ‘The pension thing. She’s all worked up about it and wants me to call that lawyer. She doesn’t trust him.’
‘What are you supposed to do?’
He shrugged. ‘She needs someone to look out for her, and Lonnie’s no good in these situations. I may have to drive over there and meet with this guy.’
She looked up. ‘What?’
‘I don’t know what else to do. I’ve got her calling me in hysterics, and I can’t do anything from here. I’ll stay overnight so I can meet with him during office hours.’
Vivian wrapped a beach towel, a bright print her parents bought on vacation, around her waist. She leaned against the doorframe. ‘I just don’t see why it has to be you. You’re trying to finish your book.’
‘There’s no use arguing about it. I have to go.’ He crossed his arms over his chest, looked at her chest in the bikini top. ‘If you don’t feel comfortable staying here alone, you can come with me.’
She shrugged, watched his gaze and waited.
‘I’ve got to get back to work,’ he said. He left the room and after a few moments, she followed him, suddenly angry. She poked her head into the makeshift office. ‘Am I allowed in here?’ she asked.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You act like you want me to stay out.’
‘I like my privacy. Is that such a big deal?’
‘No, Nowell. Nothing’s a big deal. You don’t leave this room for days at a time, but you can take two days off to bail your mother out of some imaginary problem. No big deal.’
‘You think I want to do this?’ He sprung from his chair and was suddenly towering over her. ‘Drive all the way there, talk to some lawyer about something I know nothing about, knowing my mother is depending on me? A little support would be nice, Viv.’ He ran his hands through his dark hair and looked, in that moment, vulnerable.
She reached for him. ‘I’m sorry but…’
‘I have work to do.’
‘Okay,’ she said, and went to the kitchen. She knew he needed time to cool off.
They hadn’t fought much during the first years of their marriage, although it was a tense time. Nowell had just graduated from college and Vivian had a year left. He took a low-paying job at a bookstore while she worked part-time at the water management agency. Money was limited and anxieties were high. The rent on their apartment went up twice in one year. Everywhere, real estate prices were skyrocketing and rents were keeping pace. The boom of the 90s, people were calling it. Even with the money difficulties, they were happy.
They married after two years of dating. Although Vivian spent quite a bit of time in Nowell’s studio apartment, she shared a dorm room on campus with three other girls until a few weeks before the wedding. Nowell’s mother sprung for a resort honeymoon, and her parents paid for the small ceremony at Nowell’s family’s church. After the wedding, they rented the one-bedroom apartment and combined their things.
In the beginning, they were both very busy. With Nowell’s encouragement, Vivian finally decided on a Business major. She had been wavering between Art History and Business, taking low-level courses in both.