Indelible

Still, she let it pass, saying, "I didn't tell you last night -"

"About that," he interrupted. "I'm really sorry. I promise you, I don't usually drink like that."

"I didn't think you did."

"As for the other…" His voice trailed off, and Sara picked up the can of flux, needing to do something with her hands.

She said, "Don't worry, I'm not going to hold you to it."

"Hold me to what?"

She shrugged. "What you said."

"What did I say?" he asked, his tone of voice wary.

"Nothing," she told him, trying to open the can.

"I was talking about what we did," he said, then corrected, "I mean, what I did."

"It's okay."

"It's not," he said, taking the flux and opening it for her. "I'm not…" He paused, as if searching for a word. "I'm not usually that selfish."

"Forget about it," she told him, but somehow his half-ass apology made her feel better. She dipped the brush into the flux and daubed it onto one of the elbows he had already sanded. "I want to talk to you about the skeleton."

His attitude changed completely, and she could see his defenses go up. "What about it?"

"It's a woman. A young woman."

He gave her a careful look. "Are you sure?"

"The shape of the head is obvious. Men usually have larger skulls." She took the measuring tape and measured the distance from the sink to the cutoff valve at the floor. "Men's skulls are heavier, too. Usually with a bony ridge above the eyes." She measured a length of pipe and clamped the cutter at the correct spot. "Men have longer canine teeth and wider vertebrae," she continued, spi

He put flux on the pipe as Sara slipped on a pair of safety glasses. His face remained blank as he shoved the elbow onto the pipe, and he waited until Sara had used the flint striker to light the torch before asking, "How do you know she was young?"

Sara adjusted the torch before waving the flame over the pipe, heating it enough to make the flux boil. "The pelvis tells the story. The public bones meet in the front of the pelvis. If the bone surface has bumps or ridges, that means it belongs to a young person. Older people have smoother bones."

She turned off the torch and threaded out the solder, watching it melt into the joint. She continued, "There's also a depression area in the public bone. If a woman has given birth, there's a notch where the bones separated in order to allow room for the baby's head."

Jeffrey seemed to be holding his breath. When Sara did not continue, he asked, "Did she have a baby?"

"Yes," she told him. "She did."

Jeffrey put the pipe down in front of him.

"Who's Julia?"

He exhaled slowly. "Didn't Nell tell you?"

"She said to ask you."

Jeffrey sat back against the cabinet, leaning his hands on his knees. He would not look at her. "It was a long time ago."

"How long?"

"Ten years, I guess. Maybe more."

"And?"

"And she was…I don't know, it sounds bad now, but she was kind of like the town slut." He wiped his mouth. "She did things. You know, touched you." He glanced at her, then looked away. "Rumor was she'd give a blow job if you bought her something. Clothes or lunch or whatever. She didn't have much, so…"

"How old was she?"

"Our age," he said. "She was in the same class as me and Robert."

Sara saw where he was going with this. "Did you ever buy her anything?"

He looked offended. "No," he said. "I didn't have to pay for that kind of stuff."

"Of course not."

"Do you want to hear this or not?"

"I want you to tell me what happened."

"She just left one day," he said with a forced shrug. "She was there one day and gone the next."

"There's more to it than that."

"I can't…" He let his voice trail off. "I found this yesterday in the cave," he said, taking something out of his pocket. Sara saw a necklace with a charm on it.

"Why didn't you tell me then?"

He opened the locket and looked inside. "I don't know. I just -" He stopped. "I just didn't want you to know one more bad thing about me."

"What bad thing?"

"Talk," he said, meeting her eyes. "It's just talk, Sara. The same old bullshit that's been following me around since I got here. You get to a point where you're guilty of one thing and people think you're guilty of another."

"What do they think you're guilty of?"

Jeffrey held out the chain. "I showed it to Hoss. He didn't want anything to do with it."

Sara looked at the cheap gold heart and the pictures inside. The children were still infants, probably only a few weeks out of the hospital.

Jeffrey said, "She wore it all the time. Everybody saw her with it, not just me." He gave a harsh laugh. "The thing was, nobody knew what she had done to get it. No one would cop to it, you know? She'd show up in a new dress at school one day and we'd start talking shit about who bought it for her, what she did to get it. This" – he indicated the necklace – "she showed it to everybody. She didn't know any better. She thought it was expensive. It's not even solid gold, it's plate." His shoulders dropped. "There's no telling what she did for it."

"It looks old to me," Sara told him. "Not an antique, but old."

He shrugged.

"What about the photographs?"

He took back the locket and looked at the pictures inside. "I've got no idea."

"So, yesterday in the cave, you knew it was her?" Sara asked, wondering why he had not said anything at the time.

"I didn't want to think it was her," Jeffrey said. "I've been feeling guilty all my life for things I didn't do. Things I had no control over." He gave a long, sad sigh. "My parents, the house I lived in, the clothes I wore. I always felt so ashamed of everything, wanted to show people a better part of me than my circumstances." He looked around the kitchen. "That's why I left here, why I was so anxious to get away and never come back. I was sick of being Jimmy Tolliver's son. I was sick of walking down the street and feeling everybody's eyes on me, waiting for me to mess up."

Sara waited.

"You see the better part of me."

She nodded, because she could not deny this, despite what reason would dictate.

"Why?" he asked, and he seemed like he really wanted to know.

"I don't…" She let her voice trail off, giving a shrug. "I wish I could say. My brain keeps telling me all these things…" She did not elaborate. "I just feel it in here," she said, tapping her fingers to her chest. "The way you make me feel when you make love to me and the way you double-knot my shoes so they won't come untied and the way you listen – you're doing it now, really listening to what I have to say because you honestly want to know what I'm thinking." She thought of the soldier's letter he had read to her what seemed like a lifetime ago, and couldn't explain it any better than, "I guess that you see me, too."

He put his hand over hers. "This thing with the bones. It's going to blow wide open."

"How?"

"Julia," he told her, and it seemed to take great effort for him to say her name. "I need you here, Sara. I need you seeing me the way I really am."

"Tell me what's going on."

"I can't," he told her. She thought she saw tears in his eyes, but he looked away. "It's a mess," he said. "I thought maybe Robert had…"

"Robert had what?"

She saw his throat work as he swallowed. "Robert says he killed her."

Sara put her hand to her chest. "What?"

"He told me yesterday."

"Morning?"

"No, after we found the bones." Sara started to tell him that the sequence did not make sense, but Jeffrey continued, "I showed him the necklace and he said he bashed her head in with a rock."