Page 35 of Everyone Here Is Lying
When they step inside, she’s not prepared for what she sees. Erin Wooler is sobbing and gasping, and Nora Blanchard is hovering protectively over her son. She looks at the two women, a world of pain between them.
“What’s going on here?” Bledsoe asks.
“She assaulted my son!” Nora says wildly.
Gully closes her eyes briefly, opens them again.
“What are you doing here, Erin?” Gully asks her gently. But Erin doesn’t seem capable of speech. “I’ll take her home,” Gully says to Bledsoe. “I don’t imagine you want to press charges,” she says to Nora and Ryan, hoping she’s right. They glance at each other, as if uncertain what to do. Gully takes advantage of their hesitation. “That’s that, then. Come, Erin, I’ll take you home.” She wants to defuse the situation.
“Who called you?” Nora asks. “Why are you here?”
Bledsoe answers, producing the requisite document. “We have a search warrant.”
Gully watches the color drain from Nora Blanchard’s face. Ryan looks even worse. She leads Erin away.
•••
Erin accompaniesGully in a daze.
She can’t believe what she just did. She completely lost control. It was like she was out of her mind, outside of her own body. She might be charged with assault. They could charge her if they want, but the Blanchards have bigger problems right now. She’s glad they’re going to search Ryan Blanchard’s car and house, like they searched theirs. They must find Avery. That’s all that matters. She doesn’t care about anyone, or anything, else.
They make it to the detective’s car. They can’t walk back down the street with this rabid bunch following them, shouting questions, taking photographs, not after what just happened. She and the detective don’t speak on the short drive back down the street. Gully gets her safely inside the house and sits her down on the sofa.
She looks at her with concern. “Can I get you anything, Erin? A cup of tea, maybe?”
Erin shakes her head. She’s angry that Gully hasn’t been forthcoming with her—that she didn’t tell her about the witness who saw Avery get into Ryan’s car. She doesn’t tell her anything. Erin doesn’t give a damn about police protocol—she’s Avery’s mother, and she has a right to know what they know. Michael comes down the stairs, looking worried. He looks like he’s been crying.
“What happened? What were you doing at the Blanchards’??” His voice rings with anxiety.
She swallows. She doesn’t want to tell him what she did. He doesn’t need an out-of-control mother right now. But he needs to know what’s going on. “Your sister may have gotten into Ryan Blanchard’s car. There’s a witness—an anonymous witness.” She turns to Gully. “Isn’t that right? Isn’t that why you called me a little while ago to ask how Avery was wearing her hair that day? Isn’t that why they’re over there right now with a search warrant?”
Gully asks, “Where did you hear that?”
Erin says wearily, “William told me.” She turns to Gully. “How would he know that? You didn’t tell him, did you?”
Gully shakes her head. “No.”
“Who else would know?” Erin asks. Gully doesn’t answer. Erin says, suddenly struck, “TheBlanchardswould know.” She breathes out heavily, like she’s been punched in the stomach. “Oh God. It’s Nora Blanchard, isn’t it? She’s the other woman.”
•••
Al Blanchard is at workThursday afternoon when he gets a frantic call from his wife.
“The police are here,” she says breathlessly. “You have to come. I can’t handle this by myself.” She sounds like she’s barely keeping it together.
“Wait, why? What are they doing there?” His heart pounds as he thinks of his son. Of him sitting on the living-room sofa in the middle of last night after returning from the police station, denying that he had anything to do with Avery Wooler. But there was some small part of Al that was afraid. It’s like he’s living the nightmare of the drugs all over again. The fear, the confusion. He’s afraid that he doesn’t really know his son at all. Doesn’t trust him. Doesn’tbelievehim. He knows his wife is a liar, that she has deceived him. And he knows his own thoughts run awfully dark at times lately—thoughts he wouldn’t share with anyone. Perhaps Ryan has fooled them all.
“They have a search warrant,” Nora says.
He collapses into his chair, as if he’s had the wind knocked out of him. He seems to be having trouble breathing. They must have found the witness then. They must know who it is. Who would say this about their son if it wasn’t true? Why would anyone make that up? What if it’s true and Ryan took that missing girl in his car somewhere and did something to her, and then didn’t want her to tell anybody and panicked? And then—and then he’d deny it, of course he would. He’d cover it up. He’d pretend it hadn’t happened, like he did with the drugs, he’d deny it until he couldn’t deny it anymore—
“Are you coming?” his wife says into the phone.
“Yes. I’ll be right there.” He’s surprised at how calm he sounds.
On the drive home his mind is a seesaw—he tries to think of anyone who might want to harm his son with a lie like this. Hisdrug buddies? But that doesn’t make sense, because Ryan didn’t name anyone, didn’t say who he got the drugs from. Maybe someone wants to hurt not Ryan, but him. Or his wife. What better way to hurt someone than to suggest that their child is a pervert and a killer? But Al has no enemies, and neither does his wife. The idea is ridiculous. They are just normal, average people; they don’t make enemies. He would like to know who it is. He would like to know who claims they saw his son take Avery Wooler.
When he arrives, his alarm increases. There’s a pack of journalists outside his house, who swarm his car in the driveway when they realize who he is. He flees inside, his hands covering his face as the cameras flash. When he gets inside, his wife and son are in the living room, and he’s confronted by the two detectives who’d been in his house late the night before. Bledsoe and Gully.
