Page 106 of This is Why We Lied

He was tired of hearing the same lecture. “No one cares that Mercy is dead, Amanda. They all abandoned her. Her parents haven’t asked a single question. Her brother’s literally gone fishing.”

“She has a son who loves her.”

“So did my mother.”

Uncharacteristically, Amanda didn’t have an immediate comeback.

In the silence, Will watched one of the waiters pushing a wheelbarrow loaded with trash bags up yet another trail. He assumed it was a shortcut to the house. Faith was definitely going to need the map. And her running shoes. Will’s stride was twice as long as Mercy’s. Faith would be the one who got to run around the forest.

“All right,” Amanda finally said. “Let’s get this closed quickly, Wilbur. And don’t expect compensatory time. You’ve made it quite clear this is how you’re choosing to spend your vacation days.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Will ended the call and clipped the phone back on his belt.

He glanced into the kitchen window. The chef had moved to the stove. Will walked around the octagon to the back of the building. The trail up to the house also went down toward the creek that fed the lake. Faith was going to have some choice words for him by the time the day was over.

A free-standing freezer was under a lean-to on the other side of the trail. The door to the kitchen was closed. The second waiter was still outside. He was stacking cans into a paper grocery sack. His hair had fallen into his eyes. He looked younger than Jon, maybe fourteen years old.

“Shit!” The kid had seen Will and dropped the bag. Cans rolled in every direction. He scrambled to gather them, shooting Will furtive looks like a criminal caught in the act, which was obviously accurate. “Mister, I’m not—”

“It’s all right.” Will helped him with the cans. The kid hadn’t taken much. Green beans, condensed milk, corn, black-eyed peas. Will knew what it was like to be desperate and hungry. He was never going to stop someone from stealing food.

The kid asked, “Are you gonna arrest me?”

Will wondered who had told him that Will was a cop. Probably everybody. “No, I’m not going to arrest you.”

The kid seemed unconvinced as he packed cans back into the bag.

“You’ve got some good stuff here.”

“The milk is for my baby sister,” he said. “She’s got a sweet tooth.”

“Are you Ezra or Gregg?”

“I’m Gregg, sir.”

“Gregg.” Will handed him the last can. “Have you seen Jon?”

“No, sir. I heard he ran off. Delilah already asked me if there was anywhere he’d go. I talked to Ezra about it and neither one of us know where he’d run off to. I’d tell you if we did, that’s for sure. Jon’s a good guy. He’s gotta be torn up about his mama.”

Will watched the kid hug the grocery bag to his chest. He was more worried about losing the food than talking to a cop.

“Keep it,” Will said. “I’m not going to tell anybody.”

Relief flooded the kid’s face. He walked around the standing freezer and got down on his knees as he hid the bag in what was clearly his usual spot. Will saw a dark oil stain had spread across the wood decking. There didn’t seem to be a recycling tank, which meant the oil was going down the drain into the septic system, which could get into the groundwater, which was something the EPA frowned on. Will put the information in his back pocket in case he needed to pressure Bitty and Cecil with it later on.

“Thanks, mister.” Gregg cleaned his hands on his apron as he stood back up. “I need to get back to work.”

“Take a minute.”

Gregg looked scared again. His eyes went to the hidden food.

“You’re not in trouble. I’m just trying to get some idea of what Mercy’s life was like before she died. Can you tell me about her?”

“Like what?”

“Like, whatever comes to mind. Anything.”

“She was fair?” he asked, testing the waters. “I mean, she could tear you a new one sometimes, but not out of nowhere. You knew where you stood with her. Not like the rest of ’em.”