Page 90 of Dirty Filthy Boy
Chapter 27
MacKenna
DO I BELIEVE TY? Yes, I do. Everything in me tells me he's telling the truth. I can't see him ignoring his friend at the party, especially a young woman he'd known from back home. Today's interview with Emily Suarez's mother should affirm that belief.
As the plane touches down in Longview, Texas, I take a long breath. The entire trip has taken almost five hours from Chicago O'Hare, with a stopover in Dallas-Ft. Worth, and I still have an hour's drive to Ty's small town. But after leaving the frozen tundra that is Chicago, the fifties temperatures of Texas seems almost balmy. The terrain varies from undulating to rolling, and the mostly farmland is broken now and then by a forest. Much of it reminds me of Iowa.
The small town literally is a one stop sign place. If you blink you missed it. It takes me no time at all to find Mrs. Suarez's house. Dressed all in black, she welcomes me with a sad smile. But it's a welcome, nonetheless. She serves me strong coffee and sweet pasteles that she learned to cook from her mother. Emily was her only child and now she faces the rest of her years alone. Her sister who lives in California has encouraged her to move there. And every year, she loses one more reason not to go.
Once we get past the pleasantries, I start the interview. "Do you mind if I record our conversation?"
"No, of course not."
"Tell me about Emily."
"She was young and beautiful and smart. Did you know, she earned a scholarship at the University of Texas?"
"No, I didn't."
"She could have stayed home. Well, in Texas, anyhow."
"But she didn't? Why?" Even though I know the answer to this question, I have to ask.
"Because of Ty Mathews." His name emerges in a soft whisper, like a memory you wish to forget. "During high school, she developed a huge crush on him."
I can see that. I can only imagine what Ty must have been like back then. Maybe not as fit as he is now, but probably as gorgeous as ever. How could she not fallen for the stunning quarterback with the killer smile? "So she followed him to Nebraska State?"
"Yes. They were just friends. Or at least that's the way he saw her. He never led her on. But my Emily? Hope sprung eternal in her. She thought if she could make him notice her as a woman, he would fall in love with her."
"But he didn't?"
"No. He never did. He remained friends with her, but that was it."
"How do you know?"
"Well, she told me. We talked every week. She'd share her comings and goings with me. Her classes. Her friends. Ty always figured in them prominently. But then she met someone else."
"Who was it?"
"She never told me. A boy she met in one of her classes. He needed help with a paper and she helped him with it. From what she said, I think she did much of the writing." A rictus of pain rolls across her face. "And then one week in the spring, she didn't call. So I dialed her number. Even over the phone, I could tell something was wrong."
"When was that?"
"The first week in March."
Had to have been after the assault. "She didn't tell you what happened to her?"
"No. She couldn't bear to tell me." She wipes a tear from her face. "I wish she had. I would have flown there and brought her home." A shudder runs through her body. "In the end, I did."
But not the way she wanted. She'd brought her daughter home in a casket to lay her to her final rest. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Suarez." Reaching over, I squeeze her hand. I close my notebook and shut off the recorder. I've pried and poked into this woman's pain enough. Even though she hasn't revealed anything new about her daughter's assault, I've confirmed Ty acted honorably. "Well, I better go. Thank you for your time."
"You will write . . . kindly about Emily."
"Of course. Don't you worry about that."
"I wonder . . ." Her hesitation floats in the air between us, like a living, breathing thing.
"You wonder what, Mrs. Suarez?"
