“She started going out with this other guy, Dennis — I don’t know where he’s from exactly, but not from here; he was just here for a summer job — and she was all super in love with him, but then I guess he just wanted out, and went back to wherever he came from. Claire was, like, all devastated, and you ask me, it kind of looked good on her.”
I’d heard the name earlier tonight. “Is Dennis the black guy you mentioned?”
“Huh?”
“When you told your parents about being pulled over, you said the cops pull over people your age, out-of-towners, or people like Dennis who’s not as white as everyone else around here.”
“Oh yeah. He’s black.” He shrugged. “This is still kind of a white-bread town, you know. I’m not sayin’ that’s a bad thing — it’s just some people around here kind of freak out when they see a black guy.”
Sean wasn’t wrong about that.
“So even though you’re pissed with Claire, you agreed to help her with this thing last night.”
“Hanna asked me, so I did it. She said Claire was being stalked or something and she needed to get away.”
“Who’d she need to get away from? Roman?”
“I don’t know. I mean, okay, Roman has wanted to talk to Claire about why she dumped him. A guy deserves some kind of explanation, right? She wouldn’t answer the phone if it was him, and she stopped texting with him because he kind of crossed a line there.”
“How’d he cross a line by texting with her?”
“Oh man, I can’t talk about this. Forget I said that.”
“Sean.”
“Okay, you know you can send more than words in a text, right? You can send pictures?”
“I know.”
“So, after Claire broke up with Roman, he texted her a picture of what she was going to be missing.”
I was pretty sure I was getting his drift. “You telling me he texted a photo of his dick to her?”
Sean shrugged. “Pretty much.”
“And not at half-mast, I’m guessing,” I said.
“Look, it’s no big deal. Everybody does it. Sends hot pictures of themselves to each other. But Claire kinda didn’t like that after they’d broke up.”
“Did Dennis know Roman sent her those kinds of pics?”
“I don’t think so. He’d have probably tried to kill him if he had.” He waved his hands like he was trying to clear the air. “But, look, I don’t think it was Roman that Claire was trying to ditch. I mean, Hanna wouldn’t have asked me to help out if it was my own friend that was involved. That wouldn’t be right.”
“So you have no idea who might have been following her.”
He licked his lips. “I swear, I don’t know the details. Hanna said Claire wouldn’t even tell her what exactly was going on.”
“Could it have been the police?”
“Like I said, I don’t know. These are all things you should ask Hanna. I was just supposed to drive, okay?”
“What about Claire’s father?”
“What about him?”
“Could he be the one she was trying to give the slip to?”
Sean didn’t answer right away. “Where are we going, anyway?”
“To where I dropped Hanna off. You didn’t answer my question. Could Claire have been trying to get away from her father?”
“What, you think he’s been following her around?”
“I’m asking you. What’s the story on Claire and her dad? They get along?”
“I guess they’re okay. She’s living with him and not her mom, so I guess that says something about how they got along. And she didn’t want to have to go live in Canada and get split up from all her friends. Her mom’s new husband is even weirder than her real dad, so she probably figured she was better off with him.”
“What’s weird about Bert Sanders?”
“You hear stories.”
“What kind of stories?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Just, he’s, you know, even though he’s an old guy, he really gets a lot of action. I don’t know where he’d find time to follow Claire around.”
“Are you talking about women? He has a lot of lady friends?”
“Yeah. I mean, Claire says he’s all high and mighty about a lot of things, like what’s right and wrong and all that kind of stuff and raising shit with the cops — which, by the way, I happen to think is a pretty good idea — but when it comes to gettin’ some, he’s right in there. It kind of embarrasses Claire. Hanna told me she said, one time— Maybe I shouldn’t tell this.”
I waited.
“One time, Claire comes home from school in the middle of the day — she was sick, right? And her dad’s home, and there’s this woman, she’s got her head in his lap, right in the living room.” He gave me a look. “You know what I’m talking about?”
“I know what you’re talking about. Who was the woman?”
“Shit, I don’t know. I don’t even know if Claire knew. She caught a glimpse of what was going down—” He stopped himself. “I wasn’t trying to be funny. But when she saw what was happening, she, like, ran off.”
“Is Claire afraid of her father?”
He gave me another glance. “Everybody’s afraid of their fathers. Mothers, too, mostly.”
My mind drifted for a moment. Had Scott been afraid of me? Had he been afraid of Donna? I couldn’t believe that. We were good parents.
Except for when we weren’t.
“Yeah, but there’s afraid, and then there’s afraid,” I said. “You’re afraid your parents are going to find out about stuff you’ve done they wouldn’t approve of, and if they do, there’ll be consequences. You get grounded, lose driving privileges. End up with a Civic instead of that nice pickup you’re driving. It’s like that for all kids. But then there are parents who go too far. Who cross the line. You get what I’m saying.”
“Yeah.”
“Does Claire’s father cross some kind of line?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Sean said. “You mean, like, what, slapping her around or something?”
“You tell me.”
“I don’t think so. I never seen her with bruises or anything like that.”
“What about other kinds of abuse?”
Sean made a face like he’d eaten something bad. He shook his head definitively. “No way. I mean, I don’t think so.” He paused. “If anything, Claire’s dad cares too much. That can be kind of hard to live with, too.”
“Do your parents care too much?” I said.
“Sometimes I wish they cared a little less. My dad’s on my ass all the time, and he’s pissed about Hanna being over and all, but her parents, they don’t care that much about what she does. She’s lucky that way.”
Was that what defined luck for these kids? Parents who didn’t give a shit? I seemed to recall Hanna’s parents being worried about something. A business Hanna was involved in with her boyfriend that could end up biting her in the ass.
“You and Hanna got something going on the side,” I said, not asking a question. “To make some money.”
His head jerked. I’d hit a nerve. “What?”
“What is it?” I thought immediately of Scott. “You guys selling something? You selling drugs?”
“Jesus, no.”
“You’re doing something. Her parents mentioned you had something going.”
“It’s nothing. It’s not a big deal. It’s just — look, everybody does it.”
“Everybody does what?”
“Drinks,” Sean said. “It’s no big deal around here. I mean, everybody knows you can get a drink at Patchett’s as long as you don’t look like you’re twelve. But not everybody wants to drink there. Sometimes, you know, you want to do stuff at home or someplace else.”
“Like when parents are away.”
He gave me a look. “Sometimes.”
“So where do you and Hanna fit in?”