I pull back, again confused by what she’s said to me. “With what sort of thing?”
“He has trouble admitting things to himself that others see very easily.” She pats my cheek, smiles, and turns to hug the next person.
Well, that clears that up. I’m still puzzling over her various non-sequiturs and gnawing my lip when Cale comes out of the house. He looks at me, his dark brows drawn together, and then his eyes slide quickly away from my face.
“Into your wagons or mount up,” he calls loudly to everyone. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover today.”
I mount up, and from atop Dandelion, I watch as he hugs his parents. I don’t know if it’s my imagination, but he seems slightly peeved as he says goodbye to his mother. I wonder if she’s said odd things to him, too.
With a rattle of wheels and flicks of the horses’ tails, the wagons move out. Cale is riding today as well, and I slip into my usual place at the back of the wagon train and wait for him to join me.
Instead, on a bend he canters to the front, and I see him talking to Aura as she drives one of the wagons. I sit and stew in my saddle, my confusion only increasing with every mile. Something feels off. All throughout the day I catch sight of him chatting with just about everyone but me.
The rest of the circus is waiting for us at the rendezvous point ten miles to the south, and I’m so happy to see Elke again. Anouk and I throw our arms around her and we all talk at once, catching one another up on the events of the last month. We all get back on the road together. Maybe things will go back to normal now.
The next day, I know they’re not. When Cale claims to be too busy to practice our act, I know he’s avoiding me. I let him be for a few days because maybe being back home again has brought back long-buried memories of his sister and he needs time to process them, though he seems perfectly at ease with everyone else. I see him one morning making a fuss of Jareth and then talking to Gorran, laughing away as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. As if he’s not making me feel totally wretched wondering what I’ve done.
In the early afternoon, Cale heads into the village. I see my opportunity and I follow him. I have to walk quickly because of his long strides, but before I can reach him, he heads into a phone box and makes a call.
I sit on top of a stone wall, kicking my legs and trying to keep warm. The weather is bitterly cold, even colder than January, and scattered drops of sleet fall. Irritation keeps me distracted as I imagine him asking me innocently what’s wrong, and me telling him not to be so stupid, of course something’s wrong.
Ten minutes go by, and then he finally hangs up the phone. I jump to my feet, but he doesn’t come out right away. He stands there with his hand on the receiver, staring at nothing.
When he finally comes out of the phone box, his eyes are glassy. He walks a few paces down the street and then stops dead, staring into the distance.
“Cale?” He doesn’t seem to hear me so I hurry over. Up close, his face is paper white against his dark stubble. “Cale? Is everything all right? Was it your parents you called? Are they okay?”
It’s not until I reach out and touch his sleeve that he notices I’m there. He drags his sightless eyes down to me. It’s like he doesn’t recognize me.
“Cale? What’s happened?”
“Someone’s…” His voice is low and hoarse, and he clears his throat. “Someone’s confessed to killing Mirrie.”
Chapter Twenty
Cale
Ryah draws in a sharp breath. “Killing Mirrie? She was killed?”
I stare at Ryah, not understanding why she doesn’t understand. Then I remember that I never told her much about what happened. I wanted to protect Ryah from the fact that Mirrie spent her final hours in terror and pain, and we never found out who did that to her.
In the back of my mind, I think I expected that the police would discover new evidence one day and that there would be an arrest. Perhaps they’d run some DNA found on Mirrie’s clothes through a database and discover the killer and drag him out from beneath whatever rock he’d been hiding under all these years.
But a confession? I never imagined that there would be a confession.
A hand slips into mine. “Cale?”
Mum was crying as she told me the news. Tears of renewed grief. Tears of disbelief and relief. Not knowing who did that to Mirrie all those years ago tormented them, and while she couldn’t tell me much today, it seems like we’re going to learn everything.
“Come on, Cale. Come with me.”
I’m led across the road and into somewhere warm. Ryah pushes me gently toward a table, and I sit, and then she disappears for a several moments. When she’s comes back she sets a pint in front of me and a drink in front of her.
I stare at the beer for a long time without seeing it. Then finally I realize where I am. Ryah and I are in a pub, and she has bought me a beer. “They served you alcohol?”
She shrugs. “They didn’t ask how old I am.”
My frown deepens at the sight of her glass, filled with a clear mixer and ice. “What’s that?”