The Last Boy and Girl in the World (43 page)

“When's your family leaving?”

“In a couple hours.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “What about you and your dad?”

“I'm not sure. I'm kind of waiting for him to tell me.”

“Do me a favor then and text me when you're headed out, so I know you're okay.” He wrapped me in a hug. And there was something about how hard he squeezed me that told me that, though he was sad, he was also relieved. Because Jesse was still Jesse. So it didn't even catch me off-guard when, before letting me go, he swayed me back and forth as the slow song playing on his phone reached a sax solo crescendo. Then he twirled me around and dipped me, and the two of us were laughing.

It was almost too perfect that Jesse, in that moment, defaulted to the joke. It really was easier that way. It also immediately validated my choice to let him go, because I suddenly wasn't interested in easy anymore.

Monday, May 30

EMERGENCY BROADCAST SYSTEM ALERT:
Significant flooding has been reported throughout Aberdeen County. Residents are advised to seek safe shelter immediately. Stay tuned for further updates.

I texted Levi.
Hey, is your dad home?

No. There's all kinds of stuff happening at City Hall. Press conferences and things. Turned it into a command center. Why? Where'd you go? Are you safe? Also you left that satanic cat in my car and it keeps hissing at me.

I didn't answer any of his questions. I just went straight over to his house.

Levi answered the door in a pair of plaid pajama pants and a police academy T-shirt. I think he'd just showered, because he smelled so good.

He brought me into the house. I was surprised to see that not much packing had been done. But of course Levi's dad would be one of the last to go. He'd be in charge of things after the rest of us were gone.

“I'm sorry I left you today.”

“Whatever, I guess I should have expected it. Seriously though. Whose cat is that? It scratched the crap out of my arm.”

I held my breath for a moment, unsure. “You're a good guy, Levi. I know I'm an idiot sometimes, but you know I care for you, right? I want to make sure you know that before I go.”

“Are you okay?”

I shook my head. “No. I'm not.”

Levi stepped forward, and he touched my hair. “Keeley.”

I had never heard my name so softly. Except for one other time. When Levi found me in the hallway. I felt from him what I'd felt from him then, only magnified a million times. A warmth, a caring. A comfort. He was seeing me at my lowest, my most vulnerable. And it was okay.

His gaze slowly lowered to the floor and his cheeks turned pink. “You're looking at me like you want to kiss me.”

Was that what I wanted? Truly? Or was this another cover for my feelings, for the hurt I was feeling over Morgan? My heart was beating a mile a minute, and I don't remember moving, but the space between Levi and me started to close up.

Even though I wasn't sure of anything, I knew I could tell Levi everything. Because I was my most me with him. I'd once felt that way about Jesse, but it turns out that was because we were broken in the same way.

I wanted to talk and I wanted to kiss Levi and I wanted to start completely over and it all was a jumble in my brain that I couldn't untangle in time.

Headlights bounced across the wall.

Levi jerked his head around. “Shit. My dad's home. You have to hide.”

“You're not allowed to have girls over?”

“No, I'm not allowed to have
you
over.”

He opened a nearby door and guided me into a dark room. “I'll let you know when the coast is clear. Just stay hidden.” He held on to my hand longer than he should have, because he didn't want to let go.

It took a minute for my eyes to adjust. And then I saw the big desk and the papers. This was Sheriff Hamrick's home office.

I started looking around quietly. For what, I wasn't sure. On his desk were a mess of papers, and one framed photograph of Levi, Sheriff Hamrick, and Levi's mother. I stared at it. His mother was beautiful. Tall and graceful. Levi and his father were smiling toward the camera. But Mrs. Hamrick had her head tossed back, her mouth cracked wide open, midlaugh.

Next to the photo was a half-drunk bottle of gin.

I turned around and saw a huge poster-size printout tacked on the wall. It was a survey of Aberdeen. All of the houses that would be wiped away. All of them marked with a red
X
.

Except for one on Hewitt Road.

We were it.

The sheriff walked in the front door, and heard Levi speak to him. Their voices were low and mumbly, but I wasn't really listening anyway. I was staring at that map.

At the graveyard.

It was marked
REMOVAL OF HEADSTONES.

But what about the bodies?

I wasn't sure, but I had a feeling that if there was any hope for us, for Aberdeen, for putting my family back together, it was on this map.

I quickly pulled out the pushpins and rolled up the paper as quietly as I could. Then I snuck out the window.

Monday, May 30

EMERGENCY BROADCAST SYSTEM ALERT:
Dam construction is being temporarily halted until further notice, due to dangerous flooding conditions. Stay tuned for further updates.

Rain pounded the windows. We spread out the plans on our kitchen table. Dad rubbed his unshaven face for a few quiet minutes. He was in a chair and I was leaning over his shoulder.

“I mean, I'm not sure,” I said again. “But every one of our relatives is in that cemetery, Dad. And that goes for most people here. This is going to be a big story, whether or not anyone has signed deals. At the very least, this could buy us some more time. Shift the conversation back to what's right and what's wrong.”

“You did good, Keeley,” Dad said. His hand rested on mine and gave it a squeeze.

My phone buzzed in my pocket but I ignored it. “So what's the plan? Should we call that reporter guy? Shawn? I know you think he screwed you over in his last story, but this is too juicy—”

Dad stood up. “I'm going straight to the governor.”

“Oh.” I was surprised. It seemed to make more sense to get the story out first, but Dad was already hustling to change into a clean shirt. I didn't want to slow his inertia. “He's down at City Hall. I think Mayor Aversano's there too. And Sheriff Hamrick. They've got a whole command center set up.”

We got into his truck and headed over to City Hall. The streets were practically deserted, but a few residents were still packing up their cars and heading out. My phone buzzed a few more times. I knew they were texts from Levi. I was afraid to open them but I forced myself.

Where'd you go?

Are you still here?

My dad left again. Can you sneak back over?

There's something I need to tell you. And I don't know how much time we have left.

His last text made me think he still wasn't aware of what I'd done. We'd be heading into this showdown with the element of surprise in our favor, which was good. But also, Levi would know soon, which made me feel sick. Because we'd had that
almost
moment. In an alternate universe, his dad would never have come home, I would never have found the paper, and we would have kissed. I steeled myself—this was better. This would save my dad, my family, maybe even the town. If things worked out, then it would all have been worth it.

We parked right in front of City Hall, blocking a fire hydrant. A few news trucks were lined up across the street. Probably preparing for their nightly live broadcasts. They saw my dad, recognized him, and turned their heads as we raced up the steps.

A policeman stopped us just past the main doors. He looked very surprised to see us. “Whoa there, Jim. Where do you think you're going?”

A few wooden chairs lined the hall. Dad backed away from the officer and took a seat on one, a smug smile on his face. He leaned his cane against the wall. “Tell the governor I need to see him. Now.” He folded his arms.

Something about that smile made me uneasy. The thing we were holding was proof for sure, but it wasn't something to gloat about. Especially because of where it had come from and what I'd risked to get it. I wanted to tell Dad to take it down a notch, but I couldn't with the police officer standing in front of us, looking at Dad like he was crazy. He unclipped the radio clipped to his chest and radioed for Sheriff Hamrick to come out.

A minute later, the sheriff stepped out from behind a closed door. “What's this all about, Jim?” He sounded tired. “You know people are busy back there.”

Dad laughed. He held up the tube of paper. “Look familiar?” Sheriff Hamrick stared, his brow furrowing. “It should. My daughter had the good sense to sneak it out of your house tonight.”

I saw it hit him. Sheriff Hamrick looked at me with such disappointment and anger, it made the hairs stand up on my arms.

“That's stolen property,” Sheriff Hamrick said.

“This is my golden ticket.”

I turned to Dad, confused. “Dad . . .”

With that, Sheriff Hamrick spun on his heel and disappeared into another office farther down the hall.

“Dad, you shouldn't instigate them.” My voice felt tight inside my throat.

“I know what I'm doing, Keeley,” he said, and he leaned forward to see down the hall. “I want you to wait out here.”

“No. No way.”

Finally he faced me. “Keeley, listen. You are waiting out here.”

A door opened down the hall. There, hanging half out of the doorframe, was Governor Ward. His suit was rumpled. “All right. Let's talk, Mr. Hewitt.”

Dad stood up. I followed him. He turned and shot me a look. “Dad, I'm coming with you!”

He opened his mouth to say no, but Governor Ward spoke first. “Let her hear this, Hewitt. She stole the damn thing for you. Shouldn't she know what's really going on?”

Something in Dad's face shifted. The bravado in him tipped out a little and spilled on the floor. But after hearing that, I was definitely going into that room whether he wanted me to or not. I stepped past him and walked into the office first.

Mayor Aversano was on an uncomfortable-looking couch. Sheriff Hamrick was standing in the corner of the room, talking intensely on his cell phone. As I walked in, he gave me the meanest look, mumbled something quietly into the phone, and then quickly ended the call.

Not thirty seconds later, I felt my pocket buzz. And my heart sank all the way down to my toes.

“I'll make this quick,” Dad started. “What we have here is proof that you have not made plans to move the bodies in the graveyard. If you double your opening offer, I'll give up the movement and fade away quietly. If you don't . . . well, I'm going to walk this right back across the street and let the reporters have a go at it.”

Dad set a piece of paper on the desk. It was the adjusters' offer I had found in our attic, five hundred thousand dollars. I'd thought my mom spoke to them behind Dad's back. Only he was the one who'd gone.

But when?

Why?

I leaned closer to the table and saw the date. It was Wednesday, May 25. The day after dam construction began.

Dad had been willing to leave then. But I guess not at that price. He wanted more.

And now he was practically blackmailing the governor into giving him a million-dollar payout? When he was letting someone like Russell Dixon live in squalor?

My pocket buzzed again. I felt like I was going to be sick.

The governor laughed and eased into the chair behind the desk. “Here's the thing, Hewitt. I'm not afraid of you. I'm not afraid of this story. I can say it was a mistake. The graveyard won't be flooded until the last stage of the project. We have time to do whatever we want. You are the one who is out of time. Out of leverage. All your supporters have made deals. So it's no longer in our interest to pay you to be quiet. Because no one is listening to you anymore.” Dad was still as stone. “And our opening offer, which I still believe was generous”—he took the paper and crumpled it into a wad—“is null and void.” He spread his palms out on the desk. “I will offer you half of our bid. That's two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, under the condition that you leave Aberdeen tonight. And that is only because your daughter is standing here with you. I feel for her, and your wife, who clearly didn't know the game you were trying to play.”