by Harper Shaw
“Not Becca anymore, huh?”
“No one called you Becca but… but her and sometimes Jen. I never did.”
“I guess,” Rebecca answered. She wished he’d called her Becca instead. It would’ve made him seem less harsh. But that probably wasn’t what he was going for. “It’s been too long.”
“Not long enough for me.” He stepped back from the dumpster. Chad was kind of haggard in appearance, his clothes a bit tattered and face smudged with something black. “Why are you here?”
“I’m in town for a case. Her parents are suing me.”
“The Griswalds?”
“Yeah.”
“Figures. I’m surprised they’re not suing me, too,” he mused. “I guess they have more on you.”
“No, actually. My lawyer says they don’t have a case. It’s because what happened is so airtight and all.”
“You mean what we told them was airtight.” Clearly Monica’s death had been worse on Chad than Rebecca in some ways. He had been the hardest to convince of going along with the story of Monica being drunk and falling. Really, there had been a tripwire meant for Chad, but that wouldn’t have helped any of them out, and the damage was already done. That was what they’d agreed upon anyway—everyone but Chad.
“I guess maybe what I mean is: How have you been? What’re you doing here?”
“Looking for recyclables.” Chad went back to his work, but he looked up and glanced at Rebecca every dozen seconds or so.
“So, what are you doing now for work?”
“Well, I got busted for robbing a convenience store. I’m on probation for that. I do a little work at an oil change shop for the rent, though.”
“Oh.” She waited for him to ask about her, but he didn’t. So she offered it herself. “I’m working as a Junior Detective over in El Paso.”
He didn’t answer.
“It’s nice and all. I’m on leave right now.”
“For the case?”
“Um… Yes.” No, for drinking. Chad didn’t need to know that, and it didn’t seem like he would care. “Chad, about back then, I—”
“I don’t want to talk about back then with you, Rebecca. I’m not. I have nothing to say to you, and I’m not listening to anything you may have to say to me.”
“Have you told anyone, Chad? ’cause, listen, at the deposition and in all the papers I’m sticking to everything. But that will all fall apart really quickly if even one of us isn’t.”
Sighing, Chad just shook his head.
“Chad, did you?”
Nothing.
“Chad, I need to know,” Rebecca demanded, not asking this time.
“No.” His answer was quiet. “You should go. I don’t want to talk to you. Matter of fact, I don’t even want to see you again. Stay out of my way while you’re in town. Got it?”
Rebecca nodded, standing silently. She felt the same way. It was quiet for at least five minutes, but then Chad spoke.
“We should’ve just told the truth instead of lying,” he said.
“Honestly, I’m starting to think the same thing, but I won’t know until the case comes out, really.”
“This isn’t about the case! It’s not about washing the blood off of our hands and getting off scot free. It’s more than that, Rebecca, and you know it!” Chad yelled. His eyes held rage as he looked at her.
“What’s it about, then?”
“The reckoning for our sins has finally come.” After kicking the dumpster, Chad began to walk off and disappeared around the corner.
“What?” Rebecca asked. “What’s that even supposed to mean, Chad?” She tried to follow him, but he was gone when she got to the sidewalk. She cursed.
The reckoning for our sins has finally come.
What did that mean?
Chapter Five
Seeing her friend Chad like that had pissed her off even more.
She should feel sad—or, at least, guilty by his appearance. His haggard life was partially her fault. They’d all been full of potential, full of life until that night.
That night everything had changed. They had been standing there, on the cusp of independent adulthood, and everything had been taken away.
No one was to blame but themselves. Rebecca knew this but it still pissed her off. There was no guilt, simply anger. Anger at herself for letting that happen. Anger at everybody else who had been there.
All she knew was anger. And fuck, she needed a drink.
She knew she couldn’t avoid her parents’ house forever. So, she decided to head home. Maybe her mom would make some of her lasagna for dinner.
It was too long to walk and she didn’t feel like bugging her folks for a pick up after hightailing it after deposition. Rebecca called a cab and took it back to her parents’ house. As the cab pulled up to the driveway, she saw both the chief’s car and her lawyer’s parked by the curb.
Sometimes, it was hard being right all the time.
Rebecca paid the cabbie and got out. As she walked up the driveway, she eyed the cars and took a deep breath. She’d already fucked up royally once today. She didn’t need to do it again.
When she got inside, the Chief of Police, Faruq Bradshaw, was in the living room sitting beside Gardner. Her parents were nowhere to be found, which was a blessing, considering the type of day she’d just had.
“Well that was quite a performance,” her lawyer said. “You’re lucky you’re not subpoenaed or in jail.”
Rebecca rolled her eyes.
“I don’t need this shit from you.”
“Well you need this shit from someone, because right now me and Bradshaw are keeping you out of jail.”
“I need a coffee,” Rebecca said. “Does anybody else want a coffee?”
“This is serious, Rebecca,” Faruq chimed in. “The attitude isn’t necessary.”
Rebecca wanted to slug him. It took all her immense self-control not to. But at least jail wouldn’t be her mother’s house. So, she stood there taking a moment to consider whether it would be worth it. Because she really wanted to punch the Chief of Police in the face.
“No witty comeback?” Gardner asked.
“I’m just thinking.”
“Do I dare ask what you are thinking about?”
“I’m thinking about… If I punch Chief Bradshaw in the head… Is the jail at Hilton Head a comfortable place to spend the night?”
“Whoa,” Faruq said, holding out his hand in the classic calm down motion all men had for women in their back pocket.
“We’re not here to cause anything. We are just here to talk.”
“So, talk.”
The two men looked at each other. A knowing glance suggested to Rebecca that they weren’t telling her something. It also suggested to Rebecca that she should be angrier than she was. That thirty-day chip in her pocket wasn’t going to keep her sober for long. Especially with Faruq and her fucking lawyer in her parents’ living room.
“Look, I got you out of trouble,” Gardner said, “this time. If and only if you go back to the deposition, the judge has agreed to go leniently on you.”
“Well look at you go.”
Gardner stood.
“I took this case as a favor to your father,” he said. “I don’t need to sit and listen to this from you.”
Guilt rushed through Rebecca. It wasn’t his fault. None of it was. Yes, the deposition was a pain in the ass. It was anger inducing. And it made her hate herself. But, none of that was Thomas’s fault.
“Sorry,” Rebecca said, “really, Thomas, I’m sorry. I’m just tired. Must be jet lagged.”
Gardner’s face softened, just a little.
“I get it,” he said. “Really I do.”
He headed for the door.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at eight,” he said. “If you’re late, I don’t know what the judge will do.”
Rebecca watched him go. None of this was his fault. But that didn’t mean Rebecca had to like him.
She’d lea
rned a long time ago, on the police force, that respect didn’t mean you had to like someone.
You could respect someone and hate their guts. Both states could occur simultaneously, like some weird science experiment.
“So,” Faruq said after Thomas had left, “you’re a cop?”
“Yeah.”
Rebecca didn’t really want to talk right now. And she wasn’t sure if the chief was picking up on that vibe. She wanted some dinner, then a bath, maybe read a bit of a trashy romance, and head to an early sleep.
Because, as much as she had been saying it, she did not want to go to jail.
Her career was already in jeopardy. Especially if everything came out. She didn’t need to jeopardize it any further.
“What’s it like?” Faruq asked. “Do you like it where you are?”
“Yeah… it’s fine,” Rebecca answered. “I’m in El Paso.”
He nodded.
“Pretty big city there, hey?”
“El Paso?” Rebecca desperately needed this conversation to end. “Yeah it’s a city.”
“What rank are you?”
Just came right out with it. He didn’t tease that information at all, and Rebecca was getting more and more pissed off.
“Junior Detective,” Rebecca answered. “Made rank last year.”
“Wow. Good for you. You guys are probably dealing with a lot of gangs, hey?”
The urge to slug the chief in the face came back fast and hard.
“El Paso is in the United States of America,” Rebecca answered, “so yes, gangs are a problem.”
He held up his hands in his calm down, peaceful negotiations, “I’m a nice cop” hand gesture.
Rebecca didn’t like it. So, she didn’t like him.
“Well,” Faruq said, “I’ve been back here for ten years. We might not have the same type of stuff as you guys, yet, but we have our share of crazies.”
Rebecca stared. That’s really the only reaction she could muster. Apparently, this conversation was not going to end anytime soon, considering Faruq wanted to talk about the gangs of El Paso. She wished she had a coffee.
“I’m sure you do,” she answered, “as do most places.”
Faruq laughed.
“Well, isn’t that the truth. Is meth the same type of problem as it is here?”
“It’s the United States,” Rebecca said slowly. “Meth is a problem everywhere.”
At some point the chief had to understand that she wanted to be left alone. She wasn’t sure how long that was going to take.
Not like she’d woken up this morning and decided to be an asshole. But a headache was starting. She was hungry. And here was the chief, drinking water and asking stupid questions.
She suddenly felt so tired, like she could skip dinner and just go right to bed. She wanted to go to sleep and wake up in her house in El Paso. The deposition needed to be over.
These memories of Monica needed to go away.
Wasn’t one time enough? How many times did she have to relive the most terrible moment of her life?
The urge to drink was getting so bad Rebecca was tempted to find her mother’s sherry.
She needed to call her sponsor. Her hands shook, her palms were sweaty, and she needed a drink desperately. The only thing that could help her would be Riya.
Her sponsor would understand. She wouldn’t judge her.
That’s exactly what Rebecca needed right now.
She checked her watch again in an exaggerated motion. And finally, Faruq seemed to get the point. He checked his watch, as well.
“Wow it’s getting late in the day,” he said. “I should probably get going.”
“Look at the time,” Rebecca said sarcastically.
The chief nodded and stood up. He tipped his hat and made his way to the door.
“It was nice talking to you, Rebecca. We should do it again sometime.”
Not fucking likely.
Rebecca forced a smile and opened the door for him. She wanted nothing more than to get out of Hilton Head. Forever this time. Head back to El Paso, get her job back, and forget this one-horse two-bit town even existed.
Was that too much to ask?
Faruq seemed like he wanted to say something else, but then he hesitated and re-thought. He tipped his hat again and left her parents’ house.
Sighing with relief, Rebecca closed the door.
Funnily enough, the urge to drink disappeared as the chief backed his car down the driveway.
She went to her upstairs bathroom and splashed some water on her face. The vision of Chad, digging in the dumpster, popped into her mind. His life had turned to hell after that night.
Although, what did she expect?
His girlfriend had died. Suddenly. Violently. In front of all of them.
And all this deposition did was drag up the truth. A truth too horrible to bear. They would all be lucky if they made it out of this alive.
Rebecca stared at herself in the mirror and hated what she saw.
“You’re a hypocrite,” she told her reflection. “And a monster.”
And there was nothing she could do about it.
Chapter Six
As Rebecca walked up to the law building, she felt uniquely confident and qualified to give her “testimony.” She was more put together this time and ready to get everything over with so she could just go home. She promised herself there would be neither tears nor even a slight stutter.
Swallowing, she puffed her chest out some to make her body believe what her mind was telling her. It was all a façade, after all. Of course, she didn’t have to fool herself, just other people. She thanked God she didn’t have to fool herself. That would be harder.
Rebecca knew what she had to do. She had to give a solid testimony and not crack at this deposition the way she had at the last one. With being crowded by her parents and haunted by nostalgic, painful memories, being here was hard enough, and she was determined to be back on her way to El Paso as soon as possible.
“Good afternoon,” the Griswalds’ lawyer, Dick Darrow, said chirpily as he entered the conference room. Rebecca didn’t see Morgan’s parents yet but figured they were around. He reached over to shake her hand.
“Hello,” Rebecca murmured, trying to hold onto her pride as she shook his hand before taking a seat.
Darrow smirked as soon as Monica’s parents entered the room, their eyes focused on some middle distance and their faces stone. They sat beside him and pressed their lips tightly together.
“So, Rebecca, shall we get started again?”
“Sure,” Rebecca answered, detaching herself from everything but her story.
“Since we ended so abruptly last time, I’d like to repeat some of those questions. Not all of them but just some. It’s important we get a full and accurate picture of events. Don’t you agree?”
“Of course, Mr. Darrow.” Rebecca crossed her ankles to keep from fidgeting. “I understand. And please forgive me for how I walked out the other day. Monica Griswald was my best friend for years. Talking about it makes me emotional sometimes.”
“I completely understand.” Darrow feigned empathy. “Let’s get to it then.” He cleared his throat. “Tell me how you all got to the beach house again.”
“Well, we were going to hang out there for the weekend—me, Monica, her boyfriend, and some other friends of ours. Monica and some of the others had done a little pre-gaming before we left and on the way. We got there about an hour before sundown.”
“Who drove?”
“Chad drove.”
“For the whole trip?”
“No, sorry. Monica did for the first half of the trip, but she was getting pretty tipsy, and our parents taught us not to be under the influence while driving, so, Chad, who was sober, took over.”
“I see. And what happened when you all went there?”
“We all sort of scattered to check out the house. Everyone went different places.”
“Where’d you go?”
>
“Upstairs.”
“And where did Monica go?”
“She went upstairs as well. Most of the girls did.”
“Then what happened?”
“Well, we were walking around, looking at the furniture and everything. I was with Jen in the—”
“Who is Jen?”
“I mean, I was with Jennifer Wallace. We were together in one of the bedrooms, and then we heard a scream. So, we ran out, and by the time we got there everyone was at the balcony. And Monica…” Rebecca paused to add emotion to her spiel. “Monica was on the ground right under the balcony. Dead.”
“What did you do after?”
“Someone called 911, and the rest of us rushed to see if she was okay.”
“Which she wasn’t?”
“Correct.”
“How long did it take you all to call 911?”
“We called as soon as we got back inside.”
“And how long did that take?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You’re not sure how long it took to get back inside the house and make a phone call?”
“We weren’t exactly timing ourselves. It wasn’t like we were doing the 100-meter dash or something.”
“I see.” Darrow paused and met Rebecca’s eyes. They were sharp and prying, but she wasn’t about to let anything out. The questions continued, but Rebecca knew she’d won before it was even halfway through. She left her churning stomach and dry mouth for later.
She didn’t let herself breathe again until the Griswalds walked out. Then she was able to sit back against her chair and relax. She didn’t feel victorious, but she could tell by her lawyer Gardner and her parents’ faces that they did.
“You were amazing!” Gardner praised her. “You didn’t even bat an eye that whole time, wow! That was a good job there, Rebecca, really. No matter how much the Griswalds bluster, they don’t have any real case.”
“That’s what they get for filing a phony suit,” Rebecca’s father said.
“You’ll be back in El Paso in no time. How much leave did you get?” Gardner asked.
“As much as I needed,” Rebecca answered. She was still keeping her furlough to herself, and there especially wouldn’t be a reason to tell her parents if she ended up going back home in the next week or so.