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“There was a man on the jetty with scars on his face. He scared the heck out of me. Do you know who he is?” Rachel asked.
“Sounds like it’s that homeless man I’ve told the cops about,” muttered Sally. “Heard he drops his crab pots off the jetty at night. He’s not supposed to,” she said, glancing at Rachel. “He’s dangerous. Unstable. Cops should have gotten rid of him the second he moved here a couple of years back. They’ve gone soft,” she said to herself as she tossed cut watermelon slices on an oversized plate. She added abruptly: “You said you wanted information on the town’s history What exactly did you want to ask? I don’t have much time. We’re going to eat soon.”
“I’m looking for the guy who used to run the gas station at the Old Mill Road,” said Rachel. “His name is Rick. I don’t know his family name.”
“I know who you mean,” said Sally. “He sold to one of those franchise chains a good few years ago. Heard he lives in an old people’s homes now. What do you want with him?”
“His name came up in a letter about a girl who grew up here. I was told that Rick might have known her.”
“I worked at the elementary school for over twenty years. I bet I know better than Rick. What’s her name?”
“Hannah Stills,” said Rachel.
“Sure, I remember her.” Sally put down the knife on the cutting board. “She was a quiet little thing with long brown hair and sad eyes. Lost all her family within a month. Wouldn’t talk afterward. They brought in a psychologist, but she refused to say a word. Not a sound. After that she left town,” she said. “Foster care,” she added ominously.
“Where did you hear that?” Rachel asked.
“Rumors,” Sally said cagily “There was no family to take care of her once her sister Jenny drowned and the cancer took her mother.”
“I heard the mother believed that Jenny was murdered. That it wasn’t a drowning.”
“That’s garbage,” Sally snapped. “Jenny Stills was never murdered. Her mother was in denial. Jenny would go night swimming. Boys got to hear about it and they’d join in. It involved a lot more than swimming, if you get my drift,” she said. “One night, she got drunk and jumped off the jetty. Hit her head and drowned herself. It was nobody’s fault but her own. I don’t like to speak badly of the dead, but that Jenny was a wild girl. In every way.”
“What exactly do you mean by ‘wild’?” Rachel asked coldly.
“Isn’t it obvious? Jenny Stills was ‘the town bike,’” said Sally Crawford scornfully. “She had a bad reputation. And I mean bad with a capitalB.That girl was just like her mother. Promiscuous. I felt bad for the little sister, but that Jenny was out of control. Getting raised by a new family was the best thing to happen to Hannah Stills. The Stills family were—. Well, they had a namearound here. Even the grandfather, Ed. He was crazy as a bat. No wonder his daughter went bad, and then his granddaughter after that. And then her kid, Jenny. They say the apple never falls far from the tree.”
“Food’s ready,” someone called from the backyard.
“Okay, okay,” said Sally, picking up the watermelon platter. “I’m coming.”
She turned to face Rachel at the sliding door to the backyard. “Word of advice,” she said. “Don’t dig up the past when it comes to Jenny Stills. It’s one thing for a girl to go bad. It’s another for her to take down good people with her. She caused terrible tragedy, that girl. Ruined lives. Doesn’t deserve a shred of sympathy. You hear me? Not a shred.”
19
Hannah
I get the impression that you’re enjoying your time in Neapolis, Rachel. Me, I’m not so sure. It’s hard for me to process the strangeness of returning here after all this time. I truly thought I’d never come back. When I heard you were heading to Neapolis, I thought to myself that if you could do it then so could I. And so, much to my surprise, I did.
Rachel, let me say that I’m truly sorry we haven’t met in person. I’d hoped we’d already know each other by now. I have admittedly chickened out several times. It’s nothing to do with you. It’s all me. I don’t want you to meet me the way that I am right now. A basket case, to be perfectly frank. Vulnerable. Sad. Terribly angry when I see people I recognize and remember how badly they treated us.
Neapolis is a pretty place, if I put aside all my emotional baggage and look at it objectively. The historic district is as good as any you’ll find anywhere south of the Mason-Dixon Line. The cuisine is simple but really, really good. The best crab cakes I ever tasted, I guess they call them burgers now, were in Neapolis. The one you ate at that marina cafe was pretty tasty, but it wasn’t evenclose to the crab burgers my mom made when I was a kid. My ex-boyfriend, who fancied himself a chef, called that type of food seafood chic. He said those dishes always sound better than they taste. But then he never tasted the crab cakes in Neapolis.
The town has changed. At least compared to my recollection. It’s less sleepy. Not as provincial. Bigger. Busier. Still, some things have stayed the same. I visited my old elementary school yesterday. It looked exactly as I remembered it. Same hallway color scheme. Same yard. Even the aging playground equipment looked the same. I walked past cute fifth-grade kids lining up to go into class. Hard to believe that I stood there once with the same unsuspecting bright-eyed innocence. I didn’t have the faintest idea of what life had in store for me.
I suppose you’re wondering what happened to Jenny that day she went off with those boys. To tell you the truth, I don’t really know. She never said a word about it. All I can say is that by the time she arrived home in the middle of the night, she was a different person.
Mom was asleep when I got back to the house that afternoon after Jenny was taken in the truck by those boys. I eventually fell asleep myself, curled up at the bottom of Mom’s bed like a puppy. I woke when I heard a hesitant knock on the front door. It was the middle of the night. I rushed across the house to get the door. The drapes had been left open and the house was filled with fleeting shadows from pine trees outside.
“Who’s there?” My voice trembled.
“It’s Jenny. Let me in.” A shiver ran through me. I knew that she was broken. I could hear it in her voice. I released the latch and swung the door wide open.
Jenny pushed past me while I stuck my head out into the night. No truck headlights were visible in the dark and there was nosound of an engine. No sound of anything at all except for trees rustling in the wind. I closed the door and shut the bolt.
“Why were you gone for so long?” I asked.
There was no response. I turned around and saw that she’d disappeared down the hall. A sliver of light was visible underneath the bathroom door. The taps whined and water pounded relentlessly against the cheap enamel of the bathtub. I knocked on the door, but Jenny either didn’t hear me, or didn’t want to answer. I went back to Mom’s room and lay pressed between her body and the wall, listening to the water run until I fell asleep.
