Silver's Bones (31 page)

“Hi,” I heard someone say. I turned to see Maddie Mitchell edging toward us. Her family was with her.

“You've done a beautiful job with the gardens,” I said.

“Thanks. Ellie Dawson helped me with the plans. She's supposed to be coming. Have you seen her?”

I scanned the crowd. “No, but hard to see people in this crowd.”

“I'm so pleased with the turnout.”

“The glass piece is perfect,” Shannon said.

“You must know why the Dawson's chose the name Silver Rae,” I said.

“Yes, the Dawsons considered her their ray of sunshine and a silver lining in a dark cloud.”

“Yes. And then they lost her so young,” Shannon said. “I can't imagine their pain.”

“Although I have no kids of my own, my heart aches whenever I'm here. I knew it was the same for Adriana—that's why I offered to buy her lot back.”

“Maybe when everything's in full bloom it'll feel more joyful,” Shannon said.

“Hopefully. Well, it's after two. I suppose we should start,” Maddie said as she searched the crowd, most likely for Ellie.

And then her face lit up. I looked to see why. The crowd had parted for Ellie, who was walking arm and arm with Franny and Ray Dawson; their extended family trailed behind. I recognized many from the day they had come to visit the site for the first time. As Franny Dawson passed by Maddie, she said, “Silver Rae would be so pleased. Thank you.”

Maddie handed the microphone to me and I stepped up on a small platform. “Good afternoon. My name is Deputy Cal Sheehan. I was given the privilege of welcoming you to this dedication ceremony of a park that is a tribute to a young woman I never had the good fortune to meet. In the course of investigating her death, I learned Silver Rae Dawson was a remarkable young woman, one who loved her family and friends deeply, and maybe even more importantly, befriended and accepted everyone. Silver Rae Dawson, you are still loved and missed. Your memory will live on forever.”

I stepped down and handed off the microphone to Maddie. I thought about all the casualties of the poor decisions made on that July day in 1997. Decisions that created tremendous pain for many families. Mistakes will be made, but if even one of those three had just done the right thing way back then, so many lives would have played out so differently.

I took Shannon's hand and she smiled up at me.

 

 

When we got home,
my
mom and grandma were sitting on the front porch holding the babies, who were both sleeping soundly. Shannon and I took the empty chairs and joined them.

“You're spoiling them,” Shannon said.

“It's our job,” my mother said.

Our boys rode by on their bikes and waved at us. I smiled at the sight of my family. Life was good.

“We should use this porch more,” Shannon said. “We usually sit on the deck in the back of the house for privacy, but it's really nice out here.”

Henry woke and started fussing, so Shannon picked him up and went inside. I sat with my mom and grandma. As I enjoyed the spring breeze, the scent of apple blossoms in the air, I caught a glare from the front step. I got up to look.

My heart skipped a beat. The tops of the steps were painted silver. I was instantaneously awash in anger and fear. I had no idea when this had happened. I stood on the silver step and looked up and down the street.

Oh, I don't think you want to mess with my family, Victoria.

 

Acknowledgements

 

Special thanks to Tim, Stacy, and Shawn.

 

To my extended-family members and friends for the encouragement and support throughout my writing endeavors.

 

To Diane Vandersall, Dr. Duane Evans, Curtis Smith, Drs. Nick and Sarah Caven, and Debbie Russell for their expert help and advice.

 

And of course, to the North Star family: Corinne, Anne, and Curtis.