Hold Tight

“Because I didn’t want to hear your explanation, Tia,” Betsy said. There was an edge in her voice now. “I wanted to hear Adam’s.”

The high school, a sprawling edifice of numbing brick, loomed in the distance. Betsy had barely come to a stop when Tia was already out the door and sprinting toward the brick building. Spencer’s body, she remembered, had been found on one of the lower roofs, a well-known smoking hangout from way back when. There was a ledge by a window. The kids would hop up there and scale a gutter.

“Wait,” Betsy Hill called out.

But Tia was almost there. It was Saturday, but there were still plenty of cars in the lots. All SUVs and minivans. There were kids’ baseball games and soccer clinics. Parents stood on the sidelines clutching Starbucks cups, gabbing on cell phones, snapping photos with long-range lenses, fiddling with BlackBerrys. Tia had never liked going to Adam’s sporting events because as much as she didn’t want to, she ended up caring too much. She loathed those pushy parents who lived and breathed their child’s athletic prowess—found them both petty and pitiful—and wanted to be nothing like them. But when she watched her own son compete, she felt so much, worried so about Adam’s happiness, that his highs and lows wore her down.

Tia blinked away the tears and kept running. When she reached the ledge, she stopped short.

The ledge was gone.

“They destroyed it after Spencer was found,” Betsy said, coming up behind her. “They wanted to make sure that the kids couldn’t get up there anymore. I’m sorry. I forgot about that.”

Tia looked up. “Kids can always find a new way,” she said.

“I know.”

Tia and Betsy quickly searched for a new approach, couldn’t find any. They sprinted around to the front entrance. The door was locked, so they banged on it until a custodian with KARL stenciled onto his uniform appeared.

“We’re closed,” Karl said through the door’s glass window.

“We need to get to the roof,” Tia shouted.

“The roof?” He frowned. “What on earth for?”

“Please,” Tia said. “You have to let us in.”

The custodian’s gaze slid to the right and when he spotted Betsy Hill, a jolt tore through him. No doubt. He had recognized her. Without another word, he grabbed his keys and threw open the doors.

“This way,” he said.

They all ran. Tia’s heart pounded so hard that she was sure it would burst through her rib cage. Tears were still filling her eyes. Karl opened a door and pointed to the corner. There was a ladder attached to a wall, the kind of thing you normally associate with a submarine. Tia did not hesitate. She sprinted for it and began to climb. Betsy Hill was right behind her.

They reached the roof, but they were on the opposite side from where they needed to be. Tia sprinted over the tar and gravel with Betsy right behind her. The roofs were uneven. One time they had to jump down almost a full story. They both did it without hesitation.

“Around this corner,” Betsy called out.

They made the turn onto the right roof and pulled up.

There was no body.

That was the key thing. Adam was not up here. But someone had been.

There were broken beer bottles. There were cigarette butts and what looked like the remains of pot. What had they called those butts? Roaches. But that wasn’t what made Tia stay very still.

There were candles.

Dozens of them. Most were burnt down to a waxy mess. Tia went over and touched them. The residue had hardened on most, but one or two were still malleable, as if they had just been burnt down recently.

Tia turned. Betsy Hill stood there. She didn’t move. She didn’t cry. She just stood there and stared at the candles.

“Betsy?”

“That’s where they found Spencer’s body,” she said.

Tia squatted down, looked at the candles, knew that they looked familiar.

“Right where those candles are. That exact spot. I came up here before they moved Spencer. I insisted. They wanted to take him down, but I said no. I wanted to see him first. I wanted to see where my boy died.”

Betsy took a step closer. Tia did not move.

“I used the ledge, the one they knocked off. One of the police of- ficers tried to give me a boost. I told him to leave me the hell alone. I made them all move back. Ron thought I was crazy. He tried to talk me out of it. But I climbed up. And Spencer was right there. Right where you are now. He lay on his side. His legs were curled up in a fetal position. That was how he slept too. In a fetal position. Until he was ten he still sucked his thumb when he slept. Do you ever watch your children sleep, Tia?”

Tia nodded. “I think all parents do.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Because they look so innocent.”

“Maybe.” Betsy smiled. “But I think it’s because we can just stare at them and marvel at them and not feel weird about it. If you stare at them like that during the day, they’ll think you’re nuts. But when they’re sleeping . . .”

Her voice drifted off. She started to look around and said, “This roof is pretty big.”

Tia was confused by the change of subjects. “I guess.”

“The roof,” Betsy said again. “It’s big. There are broken bottles all over the place.”

She looked at Tia. Not sure how to respond, Tia said, “Okay.”

“Whoever burnt those candles,” Betsy went on. “They picked the exact spot where Spencer was found. It was never in the papers. So how did they know? If Spencer was alone that night, how did they know to burn the candles exactly where he died?”

MIKE knocked on the door.

He stood on the stoop and waited. Mo stayed in the car. They were less than a mile from where Mike had gotten jumped last night. He wanted to go back to that alley, see what he could remember or dig up or, well, whatever. He really didn’t have a clue. He was flailing and poking and hoping something would lead him closer to his son.

This stop, he knew, was probably his best chance.

He had called Tia and told her about having no luck with Huff. Tia had told him about her visit with Betsy Hill to the school. Betsy was still at the house.

Tia said, “Adam has been a lot more withdrawn since the suicide.”

“I know.”

“So maybe there’s more to what happened that night.”

“Like what?”

Silence.

“Betsy and I still need to talk,” Tia said.

“Be careful, okay?”