the seat, where it lay like a large, brown egg.
Billy looked toward the house, waiting for someone to come outside. When no one did he screamed, “Bastard!” at the empty windows. “Fucking bastard!” he yelled again, his voice cutting through the quiet.
He saw a light go on behind the door, and he turned and ran. Someone came out, and he heard a voice, but he didn’t hear what it said. He ran more quickly, pumping his arms and barely feeling the pavement beneath his feet. Fucking bastard, he thought to himself as he ran back toward home. You stupid, fucking bastard.
CHAPTER 9
1991
It was hard for Celeste to believe that Adam was five and Mary was soon to be four. It seemed to her that she had been pregnant only a few months ago. Now she was getting Adam ready for kindergarten. And it was proving to be something of a battle. She wanted him to wear jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, but he was insisting on shorts and a T-shirt with a Transformers picture on it. She decided to compromise on jeans and the T-shirt.
“Okay,” Adam said doubtfully. “But no jacket.”
“Deal,” Celeste agreed. “Now go downstairs and eat your breakfast. I’ll be down in a minute.”
She watched her son run off, listening to his little feet as they thudded down the stairs. Why were boys always so loud? Nate was the same, always banging around. Girls were so much quieter. So much easier, she thought as she looked around Adam’s room. It looked as if a tornado had recently swept through, strewing toys and books and clothes everywhere. She’d cleaned it just the other day, and it had taken Adam approximately fifteen minutes once he’d gotten home to undo two hours of work.
She shut the door to his room. She would deal with the mess later. Right now she had to make sure Mary was dressed. Adam, being more stubborn, required more attention in the morning. With him at the breakfast stage of the daily ritual she could now turn her attention to her daughter.
“How do I look?” Mary asked as Celeste entered her room. She was standing in front of the mirror, admiring her outfit of pink corduroy pants and a white sweater. She’d even combed her hair, although not terribly well, and put it into a lopsided ponytail.
“You look beautiful,” Celeste assured her, slipping the elastic from her hair and picking up a brush from the dresser. “You just need a little tweaking.”
Mary giggled. “Tweaking,” she repeated.
A minute later, Celeste and Mary entered the kitchen, where they found Nate and Adam seated at the table. Adam was eating cereal; a glance showed Celeste that it was of the brightly colored variety.
“I thought I told you no Froot Loops,” she scolded Nate. “Oatmeal, remember?”
“I couldn’t find it,” Nate answered without looking up from the paper. “Besides, the box says this has vitamins and whatever.”
“The ‘whatever’ being about six cups of sugar,” said Celeste. “And you don’t have to deal with him when he’s all wound up, or when he crashes and starts whining.”
“I want Froot Loops!” Mary announced, eyeing her brother’s bowl.
Celeste sighed. She knew she couldn’t let Adam have the cereal without giving Mary the same. That would involve at least half an hour of fighting, and she didn’t need it. Let their teachers handle them, she thought as she poured some cereal into a bowl and added milk from the carton on the table. As Mary began happily to eat, Celeste poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot on the counter, then sat across from her husband.
She wanted to talk to him about what was going on, but not in front of the kids. Mary might not be old enough to understand exactly what was being said, but Adam was. Even though neither of them had ever known their grandfather, Adam would pick up on the fact that something was wrong and that it involved his family. She had to wait until they were at school.
Nate folded the paper and set it down. “I was thinking,” he said. “Do you know anyone who might have wanted your father dead?”
Celeste darted her eyes at her children, both of whom seemed not to have heard their father, then glared at Nate. He waved a hand at her. “They don’t know,” he said.
“Know what?” Adam piped up.
“Nothing,” Celeste said quickly. “Your father was talking about someone else.”
“Uh-uh,” Mary said. “He was talking about us. Right, Daddy?”
Nate laughed. “You’re pretty smart, aren’t you?” he said, patting Mary on the head.
“Who’s dead?” Adam asked. When no one replied, he looked at Celeste. “Who’s dead?” he repeated.
“Um,” Celeste said, trying to decide how to proceed.
“They’re going to hear about it,” said Nate. “You can’t hide it forever.”
Celeste frowned. She didn’t want her kids exposed to something so awful. Even if it wasn’t their grandfather they were talking about, the subject was way too morbid for them to be discussing. But now Nate had forced her past the point of no return.
“Do you remember how we told you that Grandpa McCloud is dead?” she asked.
Adam and Mary both nodded. “He died a long time ago,” Mary said. “’Fore we were born.”
“That’s right,” Celeste said. “Before you were born. Well, when he died we couldn’t find his body.”
Adam laughed, startling her. “What’d you do, lose it?” he asked.
Mary joined in the laughter. Celeste had to remind herself that to them her father was just a name. They didn’t understand yet what it was to lose someone they loved. They hadn’t even suffered the death of a pet. Still, their callousness disturbed her.
“No,” she said, remaining calm. “We didn’t know where he was when he died. But now we do. We found his body.”
“Where?” Adam asked.
“He was buried in the ground,” Celeste answered.
“Who buried him?” Adam continued.
Celeste looked to Nate for help. He was the one who had gotten her into the situation. Now she wanted him to help get her out of it.
“We don’t know who buried him, sport,” Nate said. “That’s what we need to find out.”
Adam nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer. Or maybe, Celeste thought, it was that the explanation had come from Nate and not from her. Adam always took what Nate said as the truth, while he questioned her on almost everything. Nate often joked that their son was almost certainly going to grow up to be a cop like his father and grandfather. Celeste, although she said nothing, hoped for exactly the opposite.
“See?” Nate said to her. “No big deal.”
“We’re telling you about your grandpa because you might hear people talking about him,” Celeste said, ignoring her husband. “And if you hear anything you don’t understand, we want you to come ask us, okay?”
“Sure,” said Adam, shrugging.
“Mary?” Celeste said. “Do you understand?”
Mary nodded.
“Good,” Nate said. “Now go brush your teeth. Amy will be here in a minute to take you to school.”
The kids left the kitchen, obediently going upstairs where, Celeste suspected, Mary would brush her teeth and Adam would begin playing with some toy. As soon as they were gone, she turned on Nate.
“Thanks a lot!” she snapped. “I wasn’t going to say anything to them.”
“You said yourself, they’re going to hear people talk,” Nate