Her voice faded away. Jenna looked at the pool water again.
"So what happened?" Wendy asked.
"Haley died."
She said it just like that.
The moving men clunked down the stairs. One cursed. Wendy stood there with Jenna Wheeler. The sun beat down upon them. The yard was hushed, holding its breath.
"She drank too much," Jenna said. "Alcohol overdose. Haley was a small girl. She found an unopened bottle of whiskey in the cabinet. She drank it all. Amanda thought she had just passed out."
"You didn't call nine-one-one?"
She shook her head. "Noel is a doctor. He tried everything to revive that poor girl. But it was too late." Jenna finally turned away from the pool. She looked at Wendy with imploring eyes. "I need you to put yourself in our position for a moment, okay? The girl was dead. Nothing could bring her back."
"Dead is dead," Wendy said, echoing what Jenna had said about her ex-husband during their last meeting.
"You're being sarcastic, but yes, dead is dead. Haley was gone. It was a terrible accident, but there was no bringing her back. So we stood over her body. Noel kept trying to do CPR, but it was useless. Think about it. You're a reporter. You've covered stories on these parties, haven't you?"
"I have."
"You know that parents have ended up going to jail, right?"
"Right. It's called manslaughter."
"But it was an accident. Don't you see? She drank too much. It happens."
"Four thousand times a year," Wendy said, remembering Safety Officer Pecora stating that statistic.
"So Haley is lying there. She's dead. And we don't know what to do. If we call the police, we go to prison. An open-and-shut case. Our lives would be ruined."
"Better than being dead," Wendy said.
"But what good would that do? Don't you get that? Haley was already dead. Destroying our lives wouldn't bring her back. We were terrified. Don't get me wrong. We felt horrible about Haley. But there is nothing to do for the dead. We were scared-you get that, right?"
Wendy nodded. "I do."
"I mean, put yourself in our shoes. Your whole family is about to be destroyed. What would you have done?"
"Me? I probably would have buried her body in a state park."
Silence.
"That's not funny," Jenna said.
"But that's what you did, isn't it?"
"Imagine it's your home. Imagine that Charlie came up to you in your bedroom and brought you downstairs and one of his friends was lying dead. You didn't make the kid drink. You didn't force the alcohol down his throat. And now you might go to jail for this. Or Charlie might. What would you have done to protect your family?"
This time, Wendy said nothing.
"We didn't know what to do, so, yes, we panicked. Noel and I put the body in the trunk of our car. I know how it sounds, but again, we saw another alternative. If we called the police, we were done-and the girl would still be dead. That's what I kept telling myself. I would have sacrificed my own life to bring her back-but that wasn't possible."
"So you buried her in the woods?"
"That wasn't the initial plan. We were going to drive to Irvington or some city, and just, well, we were going to leave her somewhere so she could be found right away-but then we realized that the autopsy would show alcohol poisoning. The police would be able to trace it back to us. So we knew that we had to hide her. I felt horrible about this-about Ted and Marcia not knowing. But I didn't really know what else to do. And then when people started assuming Haley had run away, well, wasn't that better than knowing for certain that your child is dead?"
Wendy did not reply.
"Wendy?"
"You said to put yourself in your shoes."
"Yes."
"Now I'm putting myself in Ted's and Marcia's shoes. Was it your hope that they'd never find out the truth? That one day their daughter was there and the next she vanished and so for the rest of their lives they'd rush to every doorbell and wonder about every phone call?"
"Is that worse than knowing your daughter is dead?"
Wendy did not bother giving an answer.
"And you have to understand," Jenna continued. "We were living in a sort of suspended hell too. Every time our doorbell or the phone rang, we wondered if it was the police."
"Wow," Wendy said, "I feel horrible for you."
"I'm not telling you that to gain your sympathy. I'm trying to explain what happened next."
"I think I know what happened," Wendy said. "You were Dan's next of kin. When the police came to you and told you he was dead, well, it was fortuitous, wasn't it?"
Jenna looked down. She pulled the large flannel shirt tighter against her, as though it might offer protection. She looked even smaller now. "I loved that man. I was devastated."
"But like you said, dead is dead. Dan had already been branded a pedophile, and well, you told me that Dan wouldn't care about being rehabilitated. He didn't believe in an afterlife."
"That's all true."
"The phone records showed the only people Dan called were you and his lawyer, Flair Hickory. You were the only one he trusted. You knew where he was. You still had Haley's iPhone. So why not? Pin it on a dead man."
"He couldn't be hurt anymore. Don't you see that?"
In a terrible way, this part made sense. You can't hurt a dead man.
"You plugged Ringwood State Park into Google Earth on Haley's iPhone. That was another clue. Why, if Dan killed her and buried her there, would she have looked up that park? There'd be no reason. The only conclusion I could draw was that Haley's killer wanted her body found."
"Not her killer," Jenna said. "It was an accident."
"I'm really not up for a semantics lesson here, Jenna. But why did you put Ringwood State Park into Google Earth?"
"Because despite what you think, I'm not a monster. I saw Ted and Marcia-the torment they were going through. I saw what the not knowing was doing to them."
"You did it for them?"
Jenna turned to her. "I wanted to give them some measure of peace. I wanted their daughter to have a true burial."
"Nice of you."
"Your sarcasm," Jenna said.
"What about it?"
"It's a cover. What we did was bad. It was wrong. But you also understand it on some level. You're a mother. We do what we have to do to protect our children."
"We don't bury dead girls in the woods."
"No? So you wouldn't, no matter what? Suppose Charlie's life was at stake. I know you lost your husband. Suppose he was there, on his way to jail for an accident. What would you have done?"
"I wouldn't have buried a girl in the woods."
"Well, what would you have done? I want to know."
Wendy did not answer. For a moment she let herself imagine it. John still alive. Charlie coming upstairs. The girl dead on the floor. She didn't have to wonder what she would have done. There was no reason to take it that far.
"Her death was an accident," Jenna said again, her voice soft.
Wendy nodded. "I know."
"Do you understand why we did what we did? I'm not saying you have to agree. But do you understand?"
"I guess on some level I do."
Jenna looked at her with a tearstained face. "So what are you going to do now?"
"What would you do if you were me?"
"I would let it be." Jenna reached out and took Wendy's hand. "Please. I beg you. Just let it be."
Wendy thought about that. She had come here feeling one way. Had her opinion shifted? Again she pictured John alive. She pictured Charlie coming up the stairs. She pictured the girl dead on the floor.