No One Knows Part 15

"It's okay, baby," she crooned. "It's all okay."

She caught a glimpse of the living room. The car hadn't torn a complete hole but had wrecked the wall. The lamp had fallen on the floor, and the sofa was five feet into the center of the small room.

"Stay, Winston."

She went back out onto the steps. Chase returned to Aubrey's side and put his arm around her shoulders. She couldn't help it; she moved in closer. It felt so good to have someone hold onto her again.

They watched the melee. Daisy was fitted with a hard neck brace, brought gently from the car on a backboard, set carefully on a stretcher. Her eyes were still shut, the front of her tennis whites covered in thick red blood.

A patrol officer came to the steps and barked, "What happened here?"

Aubrey had to drag her attention away from Daisy-they were putting something down her throat and attaching IVs to her veins-to the officer.

"Is she going to be okay?"

The officer softened a bit. "They're doing all they can. Can you tell me what happened?"

"I don't know what she was doing here. She never comes over here. There was no reason for her to be here anymore."

Chase tightened his hold on Aubrey's shoulder. She was babbling, the shock of the accident taking over. He spoke in her stead.

"The car came flying up the street, directly into the side of the house. She didn't brake, didn't slow down at all. Almost as if she was aiming at it."

The patrol officer frowned. "You sure she wasn't aiming at you and changed her mind at the last minute?"

"That could have been the case," Chase said gravely.

Daisy disappeared into the back of the ambulance. Aubrey tore her gaze from the scene and looked back at the officer.

"No. No, not at all. She was going too fast, the car was flying. She just gunned it and went into the yard. She lost control. She had to be going sixty or so when she hit."

The cop turned to Chase. "Sir, you killed the engine?"

"I did. I was afraid the engine might blow. I could smell gas."

"Wouldn't have happened like that, but good thinking regardless." Aubrey saw the cop's nameplate and felt a small a spike of fear. B. Parks. God, was he related to that asshole who'd arrested her? It was a small town-he must be. Her wrists started to itch; just the thought of the cuffs on his waist made her jumpy.

He was talking to her again. "You know the woman driving the vehicle, ma'am? Dispatch said she's your mother-in-law?"

"Ex. My ex-mother-in law. Her name is Daisy Hamilton."

"And your name is . . . ?"

"Aubrey Hamilton."

The officer started to write in his reporter's notebook, then stopped and glanced at her curiously. Aubrey recognized that look. She'd been on its receiving end many a time.

She closed her eyes for a brief second and sighed. "Yes. That Aubrey Hamilton. Do we have a problem?"

"Aubrey," Chase said, a note of warning in his voice.

The officer shook his head. "No problem at all. I just need to get a couple of people on the horn."

"Like who?" She heard the edge in her voice. Daisy had run the car into her house, and already people were starting to act like Aubrey had done something to cause it. A ripple of aggravation drove through her system. Something in her expression gave her away because the officer leaned forward with his hand on his weapon.

"Ma'am, relax. I'm just putting word out to my training officer-he's a few blocks away on another accident scene. It's my first week on the job. I don't want to have anything in question, okay?"

"Babe, it's okay," Chase said. "He's just crossing the t's."

"Ha," Aubrey said. "You have no idea what this is like for me. You have no idea." Her voice ended in a shout, which did nothing to help soothe the fears the new cop was having.

"Ma'am? Ms. Hamilton? Why don't we step inside for a moment?"

The tone of his voice made her nerves go into overdrive. Chase caught her distress and squeezed her arm, but it was Josh's voice she heard in her head. Aubrey, calm down. If you don't act like a normal person, they might think you had something to do with this and arrest you again.

Aubrey shut her eyes again and nodded. She let Chase lead her into the house like she was a lost child. Winston jumped to her side, whining, and bared his teeth at the cop. Chase reached for Winston's collar and said, "No, boy." The dog immediately calmed, and Aubrey glanced sharply over at Chase. When she and Josh had been training the puppy, Josh had always grabbed the dog's collar and said, "No, boy," with that exact inflection.

Aubrey was just plain living in a surreal netherworld where strangers seemed like friends and everything had gone topsy-turvy.

Chase sat her down at the kitchen table, then started making tea.

The police officer talked into his shoulder for a few minutes, giving and getting instructions. She watched him warily, wondered who he was calling.

He keyed his mike once more, said, "10-4," then turned to her. He took the seat opposite her at the table, blocking her view out the window into the street, where the ambulance was pulling away.

"Okay, Ms. Hamilton. Let's go over everything that happened leading up to the accident."

"Your father is Officer Bob Parks, isn't he?"

The officer looked surprised. "How'd you know that?"

"He worked my husband's case, when he went missing. You look just like him."

"Yes, ma'am. I'm his son, Brent. He's Sergeant Parks now."

Of course he is. Life moves on, Aubrey. Everyone's life has moved forward except for yours. Until yesterday. And look where that got you.

Chase brought three cups and a freshly brewed pot of tea. He sat and offered the mugs around, then poured out, like the perfect host. The cop accepted the steaming liquid, took a polite sip, then set the cup down and opened his notebook.

"Thank you, sir. Could you state your name for the record?"

"Of course. Chase Boden. I'm a friend of Ms. Hamilton."

Had he lingered suggestively on the word friend, or had she just imagined it?

Whatever he said seemed to appease the cop for the moment because he started back in on Aubrey.

She relayed the story again, and a third time, before the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," Chase said. She watched as he crossed to the front door and opened it. An older, grayer version of the young officer sitting at her kitchen table stood in the doorway, along with two more police officers.

Great. He'd called his dad. This should be interesting.

Chase let them all in, then resumed his spot at the table. He placed a comforting arm on Aubrey's leg, very much the man of the house.

Surreal. Surreal, surreal, surreal.

The officers spoke among themselves for a moment, then the older one, the asshole she knew as Bob Parks, addressed her.

"Nice to see you again, Mrs. Hamilton." There was a slight tone of amusement in his voice; apparently he didn't hold a grudge. Five years ago when Parks tried to cuff her, she'd fought, hard, and blackened his eye. She sent him a look.

Please don't mention I hit you, not in front of Chase. Please.

"And you. I hear you've made sergeant. Congratulations."

"Thank you. Ma'am, your mother-in-law has been transported to Midtown. Have you called her husband yet to let him know about the accident?"

"Oh, God, Tom. I should do that. Is she okay? What should I tell him?"

"I don't have that information. I would like to hear what happened, though."

Chase stood. "Come now. Aubrey has already repeated the story several times. We were sitting on the front step, playing with the dog, and this woman came flying up the street and rammed into the house. There's nothing more for us to add at this point."

Us.

Nothing more for us to add.

Aubrey felt her shoulders square. The last time, she hadn't had anyone there to stop them from questioning her again and again and again. She took strength in the fact that Chase was so much in charge and relayed her own requests.

"I'd like to call Daisy's husband now. And then I'd like to go to the hospital and see how she's doing."

Both Parkses weighed her words, then nodded in time, almost as if they were twins, not father and son.

The sergeant spoke first. "That's fine, Mrs. Hamilton. Thank you for being so cooperative." He started to hand her his card, thought better of it, handed it to Chase instead. "We'll be in touch if there's anything else we need from you, and you feel free to call if you remember anything else. You have homeowner's insurance, I presume? A report will be left with you in a few hours for you to give them."

"I do. With the Farm Bureau. Thank you very much."

The officers left through the front door, and Aubrey sagged against the chair.

Chase knelt beside her, brushed her hair back off her forehead. "Are you okay?"

She gazed at him, struck by how loving he was, how sweet, how concerned. She almost didn't know how to react to that. But this wasn't about her right now. She needed it to be about Daisy. As much as she despised the woman, as often as she'd hoped that Daisy would get drunk and drive herself into a tree, leave this world behind, leave her constant disapproval behind, she didn't truly wish her dead. Now that the impossible had happened, Aubrey felt a sudden kinship, a need to take charge. It's what Josh would want.

"I am. I need to call Tom."

Chase reached behind her and retrieved the phone. "Here you go."

"Thank you, Chase. For everything."

He just smiled and ran his palm against her cheek.

"Anything for you, Aubrey."

CHAPTER 26.

Aubrey Nineteen Years Ago Aubrey is ten. She has just been given a valentine by a boy named Josh Hamilton. She has known Josh for three years. A lifetime. He has beautiful blue eyes, and a smile that makes her happy.

Not much makes her happy now. She lives in the house with Sandy, and Tyler, and Julia and Becka and Latesha, and the men who parade through to give Sandy money in exchange for their pleasure with her foster mother. It is an existence, not a life.

She sleeps in the same bed as Latesha because they are the closest in age. Latesha and Tyler are doing it. Aubrey has to pretend she doesn't know this, but they groan and grunt and fight in the bed every night like small animals. Tyler pushes Aubrey off the bed sometimes and makes her sleep on the floor. She doesn't like the floor; Sandy isn't the best housekeeper, and small things skitter around in the corners during the night, but it is better than being part of the fun. She can't sleep with them playing in the bed.

Once, they allowed her to stay, and Latesha held her hand while Tyler ran his palms over Aubrey's still invisible breasts, but she hadn't liked that, so now when Tyler comes into the room, she grabs her pillow and decamps without making a fuss.

Aubrey is sworn to secrecy, but wonders if Tyler knows he is just one in a long line of boys who are sticking their things in Latesha. She was caught last week at school going down on one of the teacher's aides, and Sandy was furious.

Aubrey knows what sex is, what going down means, what pussy and dick and cunt and whore mean, and vaguely thinks these are words and actions that no ten-year-old should know so intimately.

But now, Josh Hamilton has handed her a small red heart cut out of construction paper with B My Valentine written in crooked letters with blue ink, and she can't help but wonder if that means he wants to put his thing into her, or maybe he just wants her to take the piece of paper and smile and say yes, she'll be his valentine. So that's what she does. She smiles and says yes, and he smiles back, leans in, and kisses her forehead, then darts off.

She is bewildered, and suddenly the center of attention for all the girls in class.

Two approach, and Aubrey is reminded of the lions stalking a wildebeest in a television show on Animal Planet that Sandy made them watch with the volume turned up real loud last night while she entertained a guest. The nature shows are where Tyler and Latesha got the idea to couple in the first place. Sandy thought the kids were getting wholesome entertainment. How could there be anything bad on a channel focused solely on cute zoo animals? But instead of the gentle education Sandy was hoping for, they were exposed to sex and violence and gore and sadness.

Life.

The taller of the two, a girl with a wide forehead named Hilary, smiles disarmingly, then snatches the valentine from Aubrey's hand and reads the inscription.

She turns to the smaller girl, Danielle, and says, "Oooh, looky here. It says 'Josh loves Aubrey.' "

She begins to chant the words aloud, and Danielle joins in, the two becoming a miniature Indian circle, hooting and hollering and pointing, and others arrive from various areas around the room to join in, not knowing why they are dancing around little Aubrey Trenton, or why she has tears in her eyes, or why there are small torn bits of red construction paper near her feet, only that the gang leader has called and the gang leader must be answered.

Their teacher, Linda Pierce, sees the situation unfold and hustles over to stop it. Aubrey is forever being picked on. She is different. She no longer has parents. She lives with strangers. She is on scholarship. She comes to school, hair wild about her solemn and sad face, not speaking, not interacting with anyone but Josh Hamilton, who has set out to save the small, desolate little girl.

The crowd disperses, back to their own activities. They will be sat down for a conflict-resolution session shortly, so there is no chance of misunderstanding that what they've just done isn't acceptable, and will do some role-playing exercises to find a different, healthier approach to acting out. Mrs. Pierce wipes Aubrey's tears, helps her pick up the shredded valentine.

Aubrey wonders if Josh could be talked into making her another. But he is gone, back to his classroom, back to his perfect world, where parents are alive and mothers don't have sex with strangers.

Mrs. Pierce hands her the Scotch tape, and together they piece the red thing back into being.

Aubrey hides in the coatroom and hugs it to her heart, plotting her revenge on the girls who tried to take his love away.

Dear Josh, I saw Kevin and Janie's boys today. They've moved to Pensacola. (I know, can you imagine the Sulmans out of the Outer Banks?) I never get to see them or the kids anymore. God, they are huge. And precocious, and funny. I can't believe how much you're missing. I can't believe what I'm missing. I thought we'd have babies by now, curly-headed little girls I'd dress in frilly pink outfits and solemn-faced boys who wanted to play with trains and you'd share your music with.