The Shade of the Moon (27 page)

He walked to Lisa. She’d shot herself in her heart. There was no way of knowing if
the shot had killed her or if she’d died a slower death, her blood flowing out of
her. It didn’t matter, really. Dead was dead.

She’d left a note.

I take full responsibility for the kidnapping of the Stockton baby.

The only other people involved were the baby’s biological parents.

I knew the baby’s father for a number of years and arranged for his wife to be my
domestic. When I realized their baby had been taken from them without their consent,
I came up with a plan to return the baby to them. I told them what to say to the Stocktons,
and I arranged for them to have a car to leave Sexton with their baby.

No one else knew of the plan.

Lisa Evans

Jon put the note back on the desk and left the room. He’d decide what to do about
Lisa some other time. He had to make sure Ruby was gone. He didn’t think Lisa would’ve
killed her, but he needed to be certain. There was a chance Ruby was hiding in the
house somewhere.

Besides, looking for Ruby distracted him. And he needed the distraction.

He went through the entire house, opening closets and cupboards and small spaces Ruby
couldn’t possibly have crawled into. He checked the garage, went back and searched
the house all over again. Then he gritted his teeth and returned to Lisa’s bedroom.
Ruby wasn’t under the bed or in the closet or anywhere else. She’d probably heard
the shot, saw Lisa’s body, and run.

But wherever she ran to, it wasn’t to the authorities. Lisa had been undisturbed since
her death Tuesday morning. Maybe even Monday. There were ways to test how long a person
had been dead, but he was no expert. Dead was dead.

He went to his bedroom and sat on the bed. He could leave, he thought, walk to the
greenhouses in the morning and grab a lift with a trucker. He could make his way to
Matt’s, slowly, cautiously. Someone would have to tell Gabe his mother was dead. Jon
had told Miranda about Mom, after all. By now he was a pro.

The problem was Ruby. If Jon could be sure she’d truly gotten out, then he could leave,
too. But how could Ruby have managed that? Even if she’d gone back to White Birch,
to her family, she’d be picked up by a guard and punished for running away. And if
she were still in Sexton, the same thing would happen.

She couldn’t have been caught yet because she would have told the police about Lisa.
But she would be caught. It was inevitable. And once she was, the police might decide
she was responsible for everything. Notes could be destroyed. Suicides could be called
murders. Why would a claver have helped a pair of no-good grubs? Ruby must have been
in on it, helped grab the baby, then killed Lisa and run away.

She was Jon’s responsibility. In some ways, she was Jon’s friend.

He would have to tell someone about Lisa. He would have to stick around, hoping no
one suspected him, until Ruby was found. And once she was, he’d have to protect her.
If he survived all that, and he wasn’t sure he would, he could leave Sexton.

But he couldn’t protect Ruby unless he protected himself first.

He walked back to Lisa’s room and stared at her. She was trying to protect everybody.
If Ruby had stayed in the house and called the authorities, she might have been fine.
If he hadn’t come home, he’d be fine. Everybody would be fine. But he’d come home
and Ruby had run, and decisions had to be made.

He went downstairs and found the address book. It was nine thirty. Too late to call
people, but he didn’t have a choice.

The first call Jon made was to Dr. Goldman. It was nice to pretend he could be kept
out of things, but that option no longer existed.

“I apologize for calling so late,” Jon said, “but there’s something I have to tell
you.”

“Is it Sarah?” Dr. Goldman asked. “Have you heard something from Alex? Is Sarah all
right?”

“She’s fine,” Jon said. “It’s Lisa. She killed herself.”

“Are you sure?” Dr. Goldman asked.

“Yes sir,” Jon said. “She shot herself. I came home and found her.”

“Oh, Jon,” Dr. Goldman said. “I’m so sorry. Does Gabe know?”

“He’s not here,” Jon said. “He’s with Miranda.” He paused, trying to decide what he
had to tell Sarah’s father, what he could avoid telling him.

“Dr. Goldman, Sarah’s fine,” he began. “But she’s with Alex and Miranda and Gabe and
the baby. Miranda’s baby was alive, and we found her and got her back to them.”

“Sarah did that?” Dr. Goldman asked.

“We all did,” Jon said. “Lisa, too. Lisa left a note saying she was completely responsible,
her and Alex and Miranda. She says she knew Alex, but she didn’t say anything about
Miranda being family.”

“You’re going to have to call the authorities,” Dr. Goldman said. “I would do it for
you, but I think it would be better if you make the call.”

“Yes sir,” Jon said. “I’ll make that call right now.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” Dr. Goldman said.

“No,” Jon said. “Thank you, but I’m better off if you stay away. Sarah’s better off,
too. If I need you, I’ll call.”

“I don’t like leaving you alone,” Dr. Goldman said.

“I don’t like being alone,” Jon replied. “But it’s better if I am. I’ll tell them
I called you. Don’t lie about that. Just about Miranda.”

“I’m here if you need me,” Dr. Goldman said. “And, Jon? Your mother would have been
proud of your helping Alex and Miranda. Very proud. Don’t ever forget that.”

“I won’t,” Jon said. “Thank you.”

Alex had told him he had special obligations. Mom would expect him to protect the
people who hadn’t been given the same chances he had. Miranda, Alex, Ruby.

Well, he was a claver and a soccer star, and that used to count for something. Jon
made his next phone call.

“I’d like to speak to Mr. Hughes,” he told the domestic who answered the phone. “This
is Jon Evans. I was a friend of Tyler’s.”

Jon waited nervously until Mr. Hughes came to the phone.

“Yes, Jon,” he said. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry to call so late, sir,” Jon said. “And I’m sorry I never had a chance to
tell you how bad I felt about Tyler.”

“You weren’t at his funeral,” Mr. Hughes said. “A lot of people noticed that.”

“My mother died,” Jon said. “In the riots. I’m really sorry, Mr. Hughes, but I couldn’t
handle it. Tyler, I mean. Tyler’s funeral.”

“I didn’t know,” Mr. Hughes said. “I’m sorry, Jon. These are terrible times.”

“Yes sir,” Jon said. “Mr. Hughes, my stepmother killed herself. I’m here, at our home,
and I just found her. I called Sarah’s father, Dr. Goldman, and he told me to call
the authorities. I’m sorry, sir. I thought you’d know who to call.”

“Are you sure it’s suicide?” Mr. Hughes asked. “Where are your grubs?”

“We only have one,” Jon said. “I don’t know where she is. But Lisa, my stepmother,
left a note. It’s something about this other grub we had. I don’t know what it means.”

“Give me your address,” Mr. Hughes said. “I’ll call the police and tell them to come.
I’ll come, too. You were one of Tyler’s closest friends, Jon. If you’re in trouble,
he’d want me to help.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jon said. “That means a lot.”

“Keep calm,” Mr. Hughes said. “This is a terrible tragedy, but you’re a strong young
man, and I know you’ll get through it.”

Jon thanked him again and hung up. He didn’t feel like a strong young man. He felt
like a weakling, a liar. But then again, he’d been a weakling and a liar for years
now. He knew how to be a weakling and a liar, and he knew how to survive.

For the moment that would have to be enough.

Thursday, July 30

He told the same story to everyone—Mr. Hughes, the police, Luke, Luke’s father, Ryan,
Reverend Minter, the people Lisa worked with, the people at her funeral. Each time
he told it, he knew he was lying, but with each time it sounded more and more like
the truth, even to him. He grew comfortable with the lies, more comfortable than he’d
ever felt lying about Julie.

He told them he’d come home from the soccer match too keyed up to stay at home. He
wanted to celebrate, and the best place to do that was White Birch. He caught the
last grub bus in Sunday night, and after that, he admitted with chagrin, he wasn’t
too sure what had happened except that it involved a lot of potka and any grubber
girl he could find.

Mr. Hughes, the police, Luke, Luke’s father, Ryan, Reverend Minter, the people Lisa
worked with, and even the people at Lisa’s funeral laughed at that. Getting drunk
and enjoying yourself with grubber girls was what claver boys were supposed to do
in White Birch. No one was expected to remember all the details.

School was out until September. So Jon stayed in White Birch an extra night, an extra
day. The potka didn’t run out, and neither did the girls.

But by Tuesday evening he’d run out of money for the potka and the girls. Besides,
Lisa might be worried. So he took a claver bus to Sexton and made his way home.

As soon as he got there, he passed out. If he had given it any thought, and he wasn’t
sure he had, he must have figured that their grub had taken Gabe to the market. Lisa
would have been at work.

When he came to, it was night and he found he was alone. He searched for the grub,
for Lisa, for Gabe, and found only Lisa, dead in her bedroom. He’d called Dr. Goldman
first, because he lived nearby. Then he called Mr. Hughes.

Yes, he’d seen the note, but no, he didn’t know what it meant, or where Gabe was.
Maybe the grub had run off with him after she found Lisa’s body. Maybe Lisa had sent
him away with the grubs she’d mentioned in her suicide note.

No, he didn’t know the grubs. All he knew about them was that when Lisa had gotten
her promotion, she’d been told she could have a private greenhouse and another domestic.
Lisa had told him she found the perfect girl, someone who could work in the greenhouse
and help with the housework as well. Lisa seemed very interested in the grub, to the
point that she had Jon visit her in the hospital a couple of times. So at some point,
he must have learned her name was Miranda and she was expecting a baby.

Miranda was dropped off at their home after she’d had the baby, which had died. Deformed,
Jon remembered. Deformed and dead. This was after the riots, and Lisa’s greenhouse
had been delayed, so they sent Miranda back to White Birch, leaving them with just
one domestic, Ruby.

He didn’t remember Lisa seeming upset about anything, except training Ruby. And he
didn’t remember Lisa mentioning that she knew Miranda’s husband. Now that he thought
about it, he knew Miranda had a husband, because Lisa had mentioned that Miranda would
go back to him. He didn’t remember the husband’s last name. Why should he? Who bothered
remembering their grubs’ last names?

He’d known Lisa since he was a little boy, and he’d lived with her for three years.
It never occurred to him that she would violate the laws, do anything that might put
him and especially Gabe at risk. He didn’t know anything about the Stockton baby or
who the Stocktons were. He’d been in White Birch getting drunk and having as many
girls as he could.

Jon made it through the funeral, listening to everyone saying how brave he was and
how difficult they found it to believe that Lisa would do something like that. Not
the suicide, he knew, although that was included in their shocked remarks. It was
that she had turned against the clavers, helping out grubs based on some long-ago
relationship. Everyone knew what animals grubs were. Everyone knew that baby would
have been much better off with clavers. Now that baby was lost and so, presumably,
was Gabe, kidnapped by the grubs, lost to Sexton forever.

Jon nodded and agreed with them and said how shocked he was, too, how sad at Gabe’s
disappearance, and how guilty he felt because he hadn’t been home, hadn’t talked Lisa
out of that crazy plot. And all of them, even the police, told Jon it wasn’t his fault,
that Lisa had been keeping many secrets from him, that if a claver boy couldn’t go
into White Birch and have a good time, what was the point of this whole crazy world?

Jon said he didn’t know, but he would always feel terrible about what had happened,
and all of them said that proved what a good boy he was, how brave and honest.

Luke skipped the funeral. “He feels responsible somehow,” Ryan told Jon. “If he hadn’t
told you about the grubber baby, none of this would have happened.”

“He shouldn’t blame himself,” Jon said. “I’m the one who told Lisa. If anyone’s to
blame, it’s me.”

Ryan shook his head. “It’s not your fault, either,” he said. “Those grubs probably
had something on her. It wouldn’t surprise me if they murdered her and forged that
note.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jon said. “Nothing matters. Dead’s dead.”