Crooked River: A Novel by Valerie Geary Read Free Book Online

said, “We can’t lose you too,” and slipped my hand into his.
    He stared out at the river again, squeezed my hand once, and let go.
    After lunch, we stood facing each other in front of the teepee. He clutched the leather satchel in his arms and told me exactly where he’d found the jacket. Along a service road that was a mile and a half south of Zeb and Franny’s house. About fifty yards in from Lambert Road, tangled up in a hawthorn bush.
    I held my hands out, but instead of giving me the bag, he said, “If your mother knew about this, she’d kill me.” He flinched hearing the words out loud.
    “No, she wouldn’t,” I said. “She’d want me to do this.”
    He shook his head but handed me the satchel anyway.
    I n the alley behind the Attic, outside the Staff Only entrance of Patti’s Diner, I found a Dumpster overflowing with black garbage bags, rotten vegetables, and soggy cardboard boxes. If I shoved the jacket down far enough, no one would notice it as anything but trash. Then, in a day or two, a garbage truck would come and haul everything away and the jacket would be gone. Forever. No one else would know it had even existed, and no one—not me, not Ollie, not Bear—would get in trouble. The meadow would go on being as safe as it had always been, and Ollie and I wouldn’t have to move to Boston with our grandparents where we’d end up trapped and suffocated by all that glass and brick and concrete. We could stay in Terrebonne. We could try and be happy again.
    I unbuttoned the satchel and took out the jacket. The back door of Patti’s popped open. I tried to duck out of sight, but I wasn’t fast enough.
    Someone called out, “Hey! Hey, you!” And then, “Sam!”
    The door thumped closed.
    I froze and turned slowly, clutching the jacket tight against my chest.
    I recognized him right away. Travis Roth. His mom owned Delilah’s Attic and I’d seen him running the register a few times. I’d also seen him at Patti’s, where he worked as a busboy. He was taller than me, older too, but not by much. His dark hair was cut short and spiked up a little with gel. He was dressed in a black T-shirt and black slacks, a stained apron tied around his waist, black army boots laced up tight. He walked toward me, smiling. Dimples creased his cheeks.
    “Almost didn’t recognize you.” He reached and twitched a strand of my hair. “I like it.”
    I blushed and took a step back, tucking the chin-length tresses behind my ears. We hadn’t said more than a few words to each other in all the summers I’d been visiting Bear. Until today I didn’t even think he knew my name.
    His gaze shifted to the jacket I was still clutching in one hand, and he asked, “What are you doing back here anyway?”
    “Nothing.” I stuffed the jacket into the satchel and buttoned the flap closed. “Just . . . you know . . . enjoying the view . . .” I tossed my hand in the air and then let it fall limp at my side. I wanted to crawl away, hide in the tall grass on the other side of the fence, be anywhere but here making an idiot of myself.
    Travis pulled a pack of Marlboros from his apron pocket and offered me one.
    I shook my head. “Those things will kill you.”
    He shrugged and cupped his hands around the cigarette, lighting one end with a shiny gold lighter. He inhaled deeply, held his breath a second, then tipped his head back and exhaled a stream of smoke straight up like a chimney.
    We were both quiet a moment, watching the smoke curl and disappear, then Travis said, “So did you hear about that woman they found at Smith Rock? It’s all anyone’s talking about.”
    “Yeah.” I wrapped one arm around the satchel. “Yeah, I heard something about it.”
    “Big deal, right? Haven’t seen people this excited since Johnny Sommers won that hot dog eating contest at the State Fair three years ago.” He took another long drag and then tipped his head toward Patti’s back door. “There’s people taking bets in