by L. A. Sable
“Like an idiot, since that’s usually how you act.”
I let their banter wash over me with a pleasant sort of feeling. It’s been so long since we spent any time like this, hanging out and giving each other shit, that I’d almost forgotten how much I like it.
Everyone from the party has been fingerprinted and now I’m just waiting for the police to let us know if they have a suspect. I’m trying my best to pretend like life can actually get back to normal.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
It takes a minute for me to notice the growing ruckus, my own fault for getting so used to being the center of attention. People start standing up near the door and the reaction cascades through the dining hall until I can’t see what’s caused the commotion because everyone is in my way.
But when I get up and peer over their shoulders, I seriously wish I hadn’t and kept a few more seconds of peace.
The crowd of students parts as a group of uniformed police officers make their way through the room. Seeing that is bad enough, but then I realize that I recognize the two men dressed more casually coming up behind them. Detectives Mabley and Cicero survey the surrounding students with equal parts suspicion and annoyance.
I start toward them without thinking. One of the guys grabs for my arm, but I evade their grip and stride forward. The detectives could only be here because of something to do with Trish and I have to know what’s happening.
Detective Mabley is closest to me and I don’t hesitate as I stride up to him quickly enough that he doesn’t realize it’s me until I’m standing right in front of him. A look of surprise widens his eyes.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Lily, I hoped you wouldn’t have to be here for this.”
“For what?”
But he’s already pushing past me to speak to the person standing right behind me. “Asher Bellamy. Stop right there.”
A shiver works its way down my spine as I turn, but my mind has already moved on from my body so what happens next feels like it’s in slow motion.
Asher doesn’t try to go anywhere, not that there is anywhere to go since the police are between him and the only exit. He stares at them with an expression that has about as much emotion as carved marble. But he doesn’t say a word.
Kai grabs my arm and pulls me aside as an officer barrels past us with a set of handcuffs in his hand.
“Asher Bellamy, you are under arrest for the murder of Tricia Murphy-Bellamy. You have the right to remain silent. Anything that you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney…”
Buzzing in my ears drowns out the sounds of the officer reading Asher his Miranda Rights as they drag him away. I watch it all happen in a distant way, like a movie about someone else’s life. Kai wraps his arms around me and pulls me back against his body, offering comfort that can’t change anything that’s happening right now.
A significant portion of the student body watches as Asher is dragged away in handcuffs. By the end of the day, they’ll be enough photos and videos of it to fill my news feed on the Inner Circle app. How public this is shouldn’t matter to me, but it’s impossible for me not to think about the fact that nothing in my life gets to be private anymore, not even the arrest of my boyfriend. Or one of them, at least.
Kai doesn’t let go of me even when I start to fight him. I want to chase after the cops, as if watching them frog march Asher down the steps of the building named after his great-great-grandfather and shove him into the back of a squad car will make anything better. Maybe if I watch it happen, somehow all of this will make sense. I thought when they finally arrested the person responsible for Trish’s death that it would feel like the final piece of a puzzle locking into a place. But this doesn’t feel like justice, it feels like being torn apart from the inside out.
Asher killed Trish.
Asher killed my mother.
After Asher has been taken away, the detectives hang around long enough to answer questions.
Except the questions aren’t coming from me because I don’t have the emotional strength to form a coherent thought, much less ask them anything. My mind keeps running through every interaction I’ve ever had with Asher, trying to figure out if there was something I missed that would make this seem like a reasonable outcome.
Asher has slept with me, shared secrets with me and acted totally fine with it when his grandfather offered me half the inheritance that should go entirely to him. None of it made sense, but fingerprints don’t lie.
“We matched a latent print on the brake pad to Asher,” Detective Mabely is saying, in answer to the question that I didn’t ask. “We said before that the brake lines were cut, which isn’t technically accurate. If someone had just taken scissors to the line, then Mrs. Bellamy would have realized as soon as she got in the car that the brakes weren’t functioning. Instead, the brake lines were frayed so they would fail after a few miles. We found a grinding tool in Asher’s room that could have been used to do it.”
“And you’re sure it was Asher’s fingerprint?” Jayden asks, voice so distant that it seems like I’m hearing it from underwater. “There’s no way this is a mistake?”
“Unless he had a reason to be working under Trish’s car prior to that night, it’s unlikely. The print we recovered is a twenty point match to the one we have on file for Asher Bellamy. There is no other way we can think of for the print being found on the brakes and no mistaken that it belongs to him.” The detective glances at me and his tone turns apologetic, but remains resolute. “This isn’t the outcome that we hoped for, but the case appears to be relatively open and shut.”
The faculty have arrived to force the crowd of students to disperse. Liam strides up to us he stares into my stricken face for a moment before turning to Jayden. “You should take Lily back to her room. I’m sure Dean Felton won’t mind excusing her from classes for the rest of the day.”
A surge of energy moved through me and I pushed their hands away, glaring around at all the curious and concerned faces. “Where are you taking Asher? I need to talk to him.”
“He’s being processed at the Correctional Center in New Haven,” Detective Mabely says, speaking to me slowly like he thinks I’ve taken complete leave of my senses. “But it could take hours before he can receive visitors. And more importantly, that’s a really bad idea. The only person who should be going to see him right now is his lawyer.”
“Have you already spoken to Carter about all this?” Lukas steps up to my side, but he doesn’t touch me. His voice is hesitant as if he’s worried I’ll shatter into a million pieces if he speaks to forcefully. “Is he getting a lawyer for Asher?”
“From what I understand, Mr. Bellamy will most likely be represented by a public defender.”
I’ve already wrenched out of Jayden’s arms and started marching toward the door as the last words echo in the room. A public defender pretty much means that Asher’s fate is sealed, especially with the addition of physical evidence. If he’s headed downriver, then I have to know for sure that he did this.
And I have to know why.
Kai is the only fast enough to catch up with me before I hit the doors. “Don’t do this, Lily. You’re just going to cause yourself more pain.”
But I’m not in pain, in fact it’s the opposite. I feel so numb that I’m not sure that I’ll ever feel anything ever again.
“You can come with me if you want to, but I’m going to see Asher. I have to hear him say it. I won’t believe that it’s true, otherwise.”
Kai casts me a sad smile, but surprises me by not fighting. “We’ll all go.”
The drive to New Haven is so quiet that it’s easy to forget I’m not alone in the car.
I did have to make the concession of letting Jayden drive. All three of them had insisted that I’m in no position to operate a motor vehicle. I hadn’t argued because I didn’t want to waste any more time or give them the opportunity to think of more reasons t
o stand in my way. Although I make a point of keeping an eye on the road in case Jayden tries to drive somewhere besides the Correctional Center.
Things have never been as somber as they are inside this car, even after my mother died. Maybe that’s because what happened to Trish was a tragedy, but losing a parent is something that everyone will go through eventually, even if it happened to me dozens of years prematurely. But what Asher has done, if he did it, there isn’t a word for what that is.
As I watch the scenery fly by through the window, I come to a cold realization. Ultimately, I don’t have anyone to blame for this situation except myself. Asher told me the day that we met that I would regret coming here. And I’ve had a dozen chances to cut and run, but the harder it got, the more I dug in. Determined to dig my own grave.
Or Trish’s.
“We’re here,” Jayden says as he pulls into the lot of an austere gray building that looks like a shoebox with dozens of tiny windows on all sides surrounded by a high razor-wire fence. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
I don’t bother dignifying him with an answer, gravel crunching under my feet as I get out of the car and make my way toward the imposing entrance guarded by officers carrying shotguns. And I still don’t say anything when they all silently follow me.
The interior of the Correctional Center is even more austere than it seemed from the parking lot. Everything is done in shades of gray, from the ceiling and walls to the chipped plastic seats that I huddle in while I stare at the empty vending machine.
Detective Mabely hadn’t lied when he said it would take hours for Asher to get through processing. I sit there for what feels like forever as time passes achingly slowly.
If the other guys regret coming here with me, they're good enough not to show it. But the strain of sitting here in a microcosm of human misery is clearly getting to all of us. Lawyers in cheap suits scurry back and forth through the waiting area on their way to see clients. Every time a crying baby is finally quieted another one starts up while anxious mothers wait for the appointed visiting time with the baby daddies behind bars.
Finally, my name is called and I go to sign in and be taken back to the bank of cubicles separated by thick panes of glass with prisoners on one side and visitors on the other. They only allow non-family visitors to come back one at a time, which I’m grateful for. At least one of the guys would have insisted on being with me, and this is something I need to do alone.
Even though it’s only a been a few hours, Asher looks like shit when he finally comes out in his bright orange jumpsuit and leg shackles. The guard escorting him shoves him down into the plastic seat on the other side of the glass and then backs up only a few feet, still well within earshot.
We both pick up the phone receivers, but neither of us speak into them. Asher’s gaze burns into me through the glass and I refuse to look away.
“Did you do it?” I ask, finally.
“Does it matter?”
It makes me inexplicably angry that he won’t do me the goddamn decency of coming down on one side or the other: either an impassioned defense or heartless admission of guilt. I’d be willing to accept either one.
I slam my hand against the glass and the guard casts me a warning glance. “You owe me the truth.”
He raps his knuckles against the imprint of my hand and I notice they’re reddened. “The only truth that matters is that you shouldn’t have come here. I’m where I belong.”
To someone else, that might be as good as a confession, but not to me. I need to hear him say it in a way that leaves no room for misinterpretation. “Did you kill my mother?”
“They record everything you say on these phones, you know. If I did, then it would be pretty stupid to admit it to you now.”
“Then why not just say you didn’t?”
Asher bows his head, so it’s impossible for me to see his face. His breathing is low and deep, the sound echoing through the phone. He’s so still that I could almost convince myself that he’s passed out or fallen asleep.
I grip the phone receiver hard enough that my fingers ache. “Just tell me the truth. After everything, you at least owe me that. Did you kill Trish?”
He lifts his head and stares at me with a gaze that looks like it holds the weight of the entire world. “Don’t come here anymore.”
The phone drops from his hand to bang against the glass. He rises from the chair and gestures at the guard to to take him away.
“Just tell me the truth, Asher,” I scream into the receiver, knowing that he can no longer hear me, much less respond. “Tell me!”
He doesn’t look back at me as I watch him disappear through the metal doors and back to the cells. I want to rip the phone from the wall and use it to break the glass, but I’m not stupid enough to try. It isn’t of any use anyway, he’s already said everything that he’s willing to say.
His silence had already told me everything I need to know.
Chapter 15
I go back to school because I don’t have any other options. It’s that, or retreat to the empty and rambling Bellamy mansion where I’d be alone except for the servants who seem specially trained to make themselves invisible. On the ride back, Carter calls to let me know that he’ll be on the next flight back. There isn’t anything for him to do here, but I get that he feels the need to come. He doesn’t ask me any questions about Asher, or even bring him up, which I also appreciate.
The next few days pass like I’m living in a fog that resembles real life but isn’t quite the same thing. The guys do their best to be supportive, but there really isn’t anything that they can say or do to change our reality. I tell myself that time has to inevitably make things better, but I don’t actually believe it.
None of us talk about Asher, like he’s been completely erased from existence. Carter hasn’t spoken directly to me about it, but I know at least part of him wants to believe that Asher is innocent and there’s some mistake happening here. At the very least, Carter hired him a lawyer, so he’d have an adequate defense, significantly more than he’d get from a public defender.
People look at me now in a way that’s even worse than when I first showed up at Black Lake. No one talks to me, why would they, but at least they look away when I catch them staring at me. Initially, I’d been an oddity for everyone to gawk out, but now I’m part of a family that will die in infamy. The golden son, with a building named for his forebears, is a murderer and not even one smart enough to avoid getting caught.
Liam sends me a message through the app anonymously, but I know it’s from him:
I knew Asher couldn’t be trusted, but I never expected this. I’m so sorry.
The guys have taken the opposite tack, collectively deciding that Asher’s name should never be mentioned in front of me. As if forgetting he ever existed will undo what he’s done.
When Carter lets me know that he wants me to come home for the weekend to discuss things, I jump at the chance because I can’t imagine spending all weekend skulking around the halls of the school or holed up in my room.
Not that the guys haven’t tried to distract me, but sense Asher any ability I had to trust has been lost. Every time I look in their faces, I remember that I trusted him once and I wonder if they’ve blinded me in the same way. I didn’t see the true darkness in him, maybe I’m missing it in them too.
The house is quiet when I walk inside on Friday evening. A maid is mopping the entryway and I step around her hastily, mad at myself for making tracks on the floor.
“Mr. Carter is in his office,” the maid murmurs without looking up from her work.
I nod in thanks and flee, feeling very much like an entitled asshole. The only thing separating us is a one in a million chance encounter between Trish and Carter. Without that happening, there’s a good chance I would have ended up scrubbing floors at some point in my life.
The stairs creak as I walk up them, eerily loud as the sound echoes off the walls. The maid manages to go about her wor
k without making so much as a swish of noise when she passes the mop across the tile.
“I’m sorry,” I say from the top of the staircase. “Can you remind me of your name?”
She doesn’t bother to look at me. “Millie, miss.”
“Thank you, Millie.”
No response comes and I turn away with a sigh. I don’t belong with the born to wealth types at Black Lake, but I can’t exactly expect a warm welcome from people who still have to work for a living. Millie probably thinks of me as a spoiled and self-absorbed brat, which is not completely off-base if I’m being honest.
I knock on the door of the office, but don’t get a response. When I bang a little harder, the door swings open because the latch hadn’t caught completely when the door was closed. The interior of the room is darkened, except for a little glow of light on the far side of the room from the lamp on the desk.
“Carter,” I say, voice loud enough that it should carry through the room, but I still get no response.
I slowly enter the room, leaving the door open behind me. Light from the hallway behind me shines into the space, illuminating the front but casting the far side in even greater shadow. I’ve been in the office before, but it seems suddenly ominous now with all the dark wood and shadowed corners.
Then I see Carter sitting at his desk, facing the darkened window that overlooks the pool. Blue and purple glows from the underwater lights make the room seem even stranger and don’t do anything to make it easier to see what’s inside.
“You wanted to see me,” I say, voice hesitant.
My foot catches on the end of a rug that’s been crumpled up on the floor instead of lying flat and I have to catch myself on a large armchair. It’s way too dark in here. A shiver works its way up my spine when I realize that Carter hasn’t reacted to me almost falling face first on the floor. He hasn’t even turned around in his chair.
I take another step forward as alarm bells go off in my head. His neck is bent at an awkward angle, as if he maybe he fell asleep in the chair while staring out at the view. It’s too dark for me to see his face and so I do something that I normally wouldn’t and come around the desk. Glass crunches under my shoes and I notice with surprise that the window has been broken.