Free River Road by Carol Goodman Page A

voice.
    â€œI’m sure they’ll catch him. The police talked to me—” I broke off,not wanting to tell Sue about hitting the deer. Or about the two glasses of wine I’d drunk at the faculty party. If it were up to Sue all alcohol would be made illegal. Possibly cars as well.
    â€œWho they should be talking to are the DUIs in our town. Hannah Mulder and Peter Ray Osterberg . . .” Her eyes were roving over the crowd as if she expected to find our children’s killers here. Instead her gaze fixed on Sergeant McAffrey, who was standing next to the Dawsons.
    â€œYou, Officer!” Sue demanded, heading toward the group. “Why aren’t you out looking for the monster who did this? Why aren’t you hauling in Hannah Mulder and Peter Ray Osterberg? Do you know that one third of all drivers arrested for DUIs are repeat offenders?”
    McAffrey turned toward Sue. “Those individuals no longer have driver’s licenses, ma’am,” McAffrey said.
    â€œSo? Fifty to seventy-five percent of drunk drivers continue to drive on suspended licenses. They should be registered like sex offenders.”
    I saw Marie Dawson flinch at the words sex offender . A small crowd had been drawn by Sue’s rising voice. Ross leaned over and whispered something into Dottie’s ear and then Dottie approached Sue, put a hand on her arm, and whispered in her ear. Sue seemed to deflate, sinking into herself. Without anger pinking her cheeks, her skin was sallow and I could see dark rings under her eyes.
    I felt a surge of pity for Sue Bennet. She might seem like a crank right now, yelling at strangers, making a scene, but that was only because she’d thrown all her grief into this cause. Maybe I’d have been better off if I had done the same—if I’d channeled my grief, as Cressida had suggested, into writing a memoir or teaching at the prison. Only, I hadn’t wanted to make Emmy into a cause or memoir. I didn’t want Emmy’s face on the MADD website or the cover of a book. I just wanted her home. I started walking toward Sue but before I reached her I saw Kelsey Manning leaning in, whispering something in Sue’s ear. Sue listened, the color returning to her cheeks and the fire to hereyes. When she looked up she was staring right at me, all that grief and anger channeled at me .
    â€œIs this true, Nancy? Did you run over Leia Dawson and leave her for dead?”
    I heard Dottie gasp and saw Chad Dawson put a protective arm around his wife as if she was the one Sue was attacking.
    â€œNo!” I cried. I looked around the crowd—past Cressida’s astonished look—until I found Ross and spoke directly to him. “I hit a deer last night. The police brought me in because of the damage to my car. That’s what I was trying to tell you before.”
    Ross held my gaze for a moment and I saw the same look of sadness and disappointment in his eyes that I’d seen last night when I accused him of denying me tenure because of a broken affair. But now as I looked at him I saw something else—the performer playing the role of able administrator. He turned from me and addressed Marie and Chad Dawson. “I’m very sorry,” he said, “if I had known I would have suggested that Professor Lewis refrain from attending the vigil to spare you this scene.”
    I felt the words like an icy blow to my stomach. I looked at the crowd, warm in the glow of the candlelight. Only I was standing outside in the cold. The only one who would meet my gaze was Dottie and she only mouthed the words: “Oh, Nan!”
    I turned away and walked out of the garden, the candlelit path a blur of runny lights like broken eggs. It was all I could do to keep from breaking into a run. I had the absurd notion that if I did the crowd would run after me like a pack of wild dogs smelling fear.
    I walked to the edge of campus, toward the river road and home.