Free Cradle Lake by Ronald Malfi Page B

When Alan’s gaze met hers, she quickly looked away.
    â€œWhat?” Alan pulled his arm free of Hank’s grasp.
    â€œThe keys.”
    â€œWhat fucking keys?”
    Again: that goofy, brotherly grin. “The keys in your hand,” he said.
    Alan looked down and realized he was still holding the woman’s car keys. In fact, he’d squeezed them so hard they left key-shaped impressions in the pink flesh of his palm. He handed them to Hank who carried them over to the women standing in a semicircle around the hysterical driver.
    Hank leaned in close to the driver, turning her around so Alan could no longer see her face (and whether this was deliberate or not, he couldn’t tell). He heard Hank’s voice coming out in smooth, soothing murmurs, though he could not make out what he was saying. Yet Hank seemed to calm the woman, whose hysterics subsided to a series of hitching breaths and shuddering exhalations.
    Eventually, he returned her keys and even walked her to her car. But before she got in she said something to him, the look on her face almost pleading. In return, Hank noddedand pointed to the boy she’d struck with her car. The boy’s mother was leading him by the hand up the street. A few of the other kids trailed closely behind, shuffling their feet and kicking at stones. Now that the best of the action had subsided, they looked terminally bored.
    â€œSee?” Hank said, the timbre of his voice astonishingly cheerful. “He’s fine.”
    The woman watched the boy retreat with his mother for several seconds more. Finally, she nodded and swiped at her eyes with the heels of her hands. Hank rubbed one of her shoulders as she crawled back into the Audi. The engine started up with no trouble. There was a slight rattling sound beneath the hood as the woman turned the wheel and rolled in an excessively slow half circle. She executed a tedious three-point turn, even though she had ample room to drive forward without hopping a curb, then seemed to idle in the middle of the street, no doubt catching her bearings, for an uncounted period of time. Then the Audi eased up the street toward the intersection. She sat at the stop sign with her blinker on for what seemed like an hour before turning right and vanishing.
    On the ground, Jane and the other woman had done their best with the bloodstain and were now covering it up with the towels. A man in khaki shorts and a striped golf shirt was dragging a garden hose from the back of his house to the street.
    â€œThis is unbelievable.” Alan’s voice was no louder than a hoarse whisper.
    â€œThis must look like a circus to you,” Hank said, running his fingers through his wet hair. He could tell Hankwas trying his best to sound affable. “You must think we’re all a bunch of nutcases.”
    â€œYou’re certainly getting closer to the bull’s-eye,” he deadpanned. “Who was the woman? The driver?”
    â€œMotorist from out of town. She got lost on one of the back roads.”
    â€œWhat was her name?”
    â€œDoesn’t matter.”
    â€œShouldn’t she stick around and wait for the cops?”
    Looking bored, Hank rolled his shoulders. “What cops?”
    â€œI mean, won’t someone have to file a police report or something?”
    â€œWho would file it?”
    â€œThat kid’s mother, for one.”
    Hank chuckled. “Look, you need to relax. You’re all shaken up, man.”
    â€œNo shit.”
    â€œListen, some of us are gonna head into town and have a few beers, try to cool down a bit. Why don’t you come along? I’ll do my best to fill you in on what just happened. Looks like you could use a beer, too, to say the least.”
    Fill me in? What the hell does that mean?
    Despite a strong desire to have this whole situation explained away, Alan felt instantly uncomfortable at the thought of going anywhere with Hank and the rest of the