Page 59 of Best Man on Campus

He grunts and tries a laugh, but coughs instead. Then he says, “Same thing every girl who knew him had against him. He was a perv.” He takes a drag on his cigarette and blows out smoke in my direction. I try not to cough. It’s been a while since I’ve had to put up with cigarette smoke in a closed room. I don’t remember the last time and I’m grateful.

“What do you mean by perv?”

“He liked them young. Like poor Jazzy.”

“He was her Uncle. He had custody of her, right?”

“You know we all thought Kill was crazy to take Jazzy in. Uncle or not. It didn’t seem right. We told him so.”

“What about her mother?”

“Ronnie Romano. We all knew her.” He said it in such a way to imply they more than knew her, that she fucked around. “Kill and his brother took off with her for a while. When Kill came back we started getting gigs. Enough to pay the bills. Did some traveling. We never saw Ronnie anymore.”

“Killian’s brother?”

“Yeah. Connor. Died young. Guess it runs in the family.” He snorts then coughs. “Ronnie wasn’t much of a mother to Jazzy. Connor was her man. Until he died. She went to shit after that.” He shrugs. I don’t ask what he died of, needing to stay on track before this man’s patience with me wears out.

“The cops told Jazzy that Killian was a drug dealer and that he sold drugs to Mrs. Romano, Jazzy’s grandma, was that true?”

“Fuck no. Kill had his faults, but drugs wasn’t one of them. He was no drug dealer. He got the scripts for Mrs. Romano as a favor because she needed them.”

“What can you tell me about Sarah? What was her relationship with Killian?”

“I don’t know, man. I knew her. She was young and came in a lot when we were local. I don’t know what went on between them. I thought they had a thing going, maybe some hook-ups, nothing serious.” He blows out some smoke and I wait him out because I know he has something more to say.

“Sarah was young but not naïve and she must have had her suspicions. I know what happened to Jazzy and even though I loved Kill like a brother, I was sick about it. That night that Kill was murdered, Sarah came back here. She knew we were playing cards and drinking late. She was a mess and said she needed to run, though we didn’t find out why until the police came around the next night. Sarah got away by running fast. She disappeared and I know the cops didn’t look too hard. Never found her from what I gather. I’d like to keep it that way.” He shuts his mouth then, puts out his cigarette and stands. I try to think of what I can say to convince him to tell me where she is, because I know he knows.

“Wait, if you have any idea where she is, it’s important to Jazzy. She’s really struggling.”

He stands with his hand on the doorknob and squints his eyes at me, seeing my desperation.

“I feel bad about Jazzy. She got the worst of anyone from all of it. I haven’t thought of her in a while. She used to come in and sing with Kill. Had a voice that could melt steel.”

“She still does,” I say, my voice choked. He nods.

“You’re not the cops. I’m not sure what Sarah can do for you..”

“All I want is the truth. Jazzy needs it.” I’m not giving anymore explanation, but he doesn’t need it, nodding his head, his eyes sad.

“Sarah lives in a cabin with an outhouse on Cedar Stream Road in Clarksville, NH. With some guy. Be careful.”

* * *

Taking the back door, I leave with Kace, rushing to the car, needing to get out of that place, and gulping the night air. Slamming the door shut, I try and get my shit together, shaky and sick with the reality of the people from Jazzy’s past.

“That was intense,” Kace says. “I can’t believe Jazzy grew up the way she did. No mother, who knows who her father was, a degenerate uncle and a druggy grandma taking care of her. Some dude in a band and some groupie holding all her life’s secrets.” He blows out a whistle.

“Nice summary.” Hearing Kace say it, everything I’m thinking, makes it real and also makes it something I can deal with. “Let’s find out what Sarah has to say.” I’ll worry about how to get Jazzy to listen to her later.

“Now?” Kace says, his voice close to a dog-whistle octave.

“I’m not that fucked-up,” I say. “I’ll take a road trip to see Sarah in Clarksville the morning after our first Frozen Four tournament game. It’s a three-hour drive up and three hours back, and I’ll give it an hour for a chat and some lunch. The team will have the morning free the day after the game win or lose, so I’ll leave at the crack of dawn. I’ll miss all my classes, but I’ll make it back in time for the afternoon team meeting with a two-hour margin for error.”

I start the car and let him think it over. “I’ll go myself this time,” I continue. “Tell you dad thank you, but don’t tell him anything about what we found out. We need to keep our word about that.”

“Sure, but I’m coming with you for the road trip to Clarksville. Always wanted to go there.”

“It’s on the border of fucking Quebec in the middle of nowhere. You’ve never even heard about it before today.”