by Harper Shaw
“I… Why?”
“Do you, Mr. Griswald?”
“I mean, I do… but I don’t know why this is important. What are you investigating us for? I think we have the right to know.”
“I’m not sure if you heard, but Chad McMahon and Jennifer Wallace have both been killed recently, and we’re going through suspects. You see, the killer has also attacked some of the other people in Monica’s friend group from high school. He or she was identified as having a black rain slicker.”
“I didn’t do anything.” Mr. Griswald stood up. “How dare you accuse me of murdering someone when I’m the indirect victim of a murder! My daughter died, and instead of getting us justice, you left Rebecca Morgan walking and are now accusing me of murder!”
“Sir, please calm down.”
“No, I—” Mr. Griswald was cut off. He took a long breath. “You know what, I’m sorry… I’m…” He closed his eyes for a moment, seeming to blink away tears. “Let me get the slicker for you.” He walked away. Once Mr. Griswald returned, he dropped a jet-black rain slicker into Faruq’s hands. “Is this all?”
“Yes, thank you all for your cooperation,” Faruq said, nodding. “I’ll call if I need anything. Make sure to stay by the line.”
“We will.”
With that Rebecca and Faruq left the Griswalds’ home. Rebecca bit her lip.
“Should I tell them what happened?” she asked Faruq. “They deserve to know.”
“No, not right now, at least. It’ll compromise the investigation.” He put the slicker into a large plastic bag and then got into the front seat of the car. “Here, I’ll take you home.”
“Okay,” Rebecca said, agreeing. She felt a sadness welling up in her chest, though, one heavy enough to silence her for the rest of the ride.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
By the time Faruq dropped Rebecca off at the motel, she noticed she didn’t feel any less tense or calm as she walked through the door. She was still feeling off, and she didn’t know what to think anymore. Now that Faruq knew all that had happened that night all those years ago, she’d thought her chest’s tightness would have subsided, but if anything, it had tightened.
She wasn’t sure whether to be more confident or less that she would get out of this town without a criminal record or alive. Something told her that Faruq wouldn’t say anything, but one could never be sure. For all she knew he was only pretending to be friendly to get information, and she was going to have the cops swarming her room in the next hour or so. By the way he said it, she’d have to answer for her own past.
Sitting down on her bed, she hoped he wasn’t going to help her answer for it. At least he knew she wasn’t a killer now, Rebecca figured. That was getting to be all that mattered besides figuring out who the Shroud was.
Despite Faruq’s theory, she still didn’t totally believe that Monica’s parents had anything to do with the whole murder thing. Or maybe they did do it, and she was just blinded by memories of when they weren’t just plaintiffs.
“What do I know?” she asked the floor, sighing. This was all too much. She felt a tingle on the tip of her tongue, a need to talk and let some things out. She didn’t want to bother Riya. And besides, she’d never be able to tell the whole truth, not even with her sponsor. The only name left popped into her head. Dennis.
Rebecca was starting to feel almost happy they’d made up as she went to the phone and began dialing his number (when had she memorized it?). The rings nearly made her giddy, feeling as if she were on the edge of comfort. She waited for him to answer.
“Hello?”
“Dennis, it’s Rebecca.”
“Oh, hey.”
“Hey.”
“What’s up?”
“I just got home.”
“Oh, from where?”
“You see, I was at the beach house, and—” Rebecca found herself clamming up. She thought of the story she was about to tell, about Faruq and admitting all that had happened. She was now realizing she’d never talked to Dennis about it. And maybe over the phone wasn’t the best way to do it.
“Rebecca? Are you still on the line?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m here,” she said. “So, how are you?”
“Um…” She could hear Dennis’s confusion. “I’m fine. I had a shoot yesterday, but I’m just chilling today, you know. And you?”
“I’m okay.”
“That’s good.”
They were silent for at least ten seconds.
“So, not to be— Is there a reason you specifically called? It’s not that I don’t love talking to you or anything. I was just curious. It seemed like you had something important to say.”
“I want to see you,” Rebecca blurted. Right when the words came out, she could tell they sounded weird, but she just went with it. “Can we meet in person face to face today? Like the park or something?” Somewhere public.
“Sure, sure,” Dennis said. It seemed as if some excitement was spilling into his own voice. “When? Like right now?”
“Yes, let’s do that. I’ll meet you there.”
“Okay. See you there.” He hung up.
Rebecca didn’t know how she was going to manage to deliver the information in a good way, but she hoped meeting at the park would give her a little more time to figure something out. She changed out of her bloody clothes and into a dress, the only thing clean she had at the moment.
Walking into the bathroom, she checked herself over and debated on her hair. It was messy and had some sand and stuff in it, but she didn’t have time to wash it. Even if she did, Dennis wasn’t that important. Was he? She brushed out the grains as best as she could and put a matching headband on to tame her wisps.
As she walked out of the room, she practiced different phrases to figure out the best way to break the news to Dennis. He probably wasn’t going to like it either way since she and he hadn’t agreed about it, but surely he would understand.
Something told her he wouldn’t, that he’d complain how they should’ve voted or something. She was starting to wish she hadn’t told Faruq at all, but she couldn’t deny feeling better about things because of it. She hoped it would get him off her case about the murders and everything. “He won’t care that much,” she told herself. “Especially when I tell him why. It’ll all be fine…”
Why she told herself things she didn’t believe Rebecca wasn’t sure, but it helped her heartbeat to calm down some as she drove to the park. Still, she was planning what to do if Dennis got mad. Would she just tell him to go fuck himself? Would she run? No, she’d stay. She’d stay and try to reason with him, and if none of that worked, she would tell him to fuck himself. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel as she played with different possibilities in her head.
After a few minutes, though, having made her decision, Rebecca decided not to worry too much about any of the rest as she drove to the park. She stopped her car in one of the front spots beside a streetlight, reasoning it as the safest place in case it got dark before she left. Then she exited the car and stepped onto the sidewalk.
Dennis appeared in her peripheral vision, smiling.
“You got here quick,” she said to him, grinning back.
“Sure did.” As they came together, Dennis leaned in for a hug. Rebecca yielded, but she definitely hadn’t planned on it. When she felt his hand lining her lower back, she found her lips kissing him lightly. By the time his hand was on her ass, she caught herself, though. Rebecca pulled away.
“This… wasn’t what I called you about exactly,” she said. “We need to talk about serious stuff.” She took another step back.
“Okay…” Dennis waited for her to say something.
“Let’s sit at a bench.”
They headed over to the nearest park bench and sat down, leaving a couple of feet between them. Quietly and patiently, Dennis sat there while Rebecca found a way to form her words. Her chest still felt tight as she started.
“You heard about Bruce?”
“Yeah. Anyway, after that I went over to the bar… I didn’t get anything, but I was going to. Then I started thinking about Monica and everything that happened… I found myself back at your parents’ beach house where it happened.”
Dennis nodded but didn’t say anything.
“The Shroud attacked me there, cut my thigh. I was able to get away, and then I booked it to the station to tell Faruq what was going on.”
“I don’t trust him,” Dennis said. “Jennifer didn’t either.”
“I know, I know, but I needed to show him what happened there. He came and saw everything, and then when we were about to leave, I… You see, I told him about back then… I told him…”
“What? You told him what?” Dennis’s eyes were wide, and it was obvious he knew what she was about to say.
“I told him it was a tripwire and we lied about the whole thing. I… I told him everything.”
“Everything?” Dennis stood back. “So, you told him what we all swore to never say?”
“You have to understand, Dennis, I—”
“No, I don’t understand. Listen, Rebecca, I get that you’re fine with ruining your own life, and that’s your choice, but you don’t get to ruin mine, too. What gives you the right?”
“It was going to come out somehow, Dennis, and none of us were okay with it. Now we’re all dying. Don’t you think someone else should know?”
“No, I don’t. I think that you should’ve kept your damn mouth shut.”
“Well, it’s not like I can take it back now.”
“I’m going to deny everything,” Dennis answered, shaking his head. “I’m going to deny everything, and who’s going to believe some alcoholic cop accused of several crimes? It won’t mean anything because I’ll deny it, and Bruce will, too, if he ever wakes up.”
“Dennis…”
“I think we’re done here. Go fuck yourself up.” Dennis turned and walked away in a huff.
“Fuck, Dennis, don’t go!” He ignored her.
Rebecca felt a warm tear trickling down her cheek. When she blinked, a whole deluge started in her eyes, and she couldn’t even see through all of the tears. Her breaths shuddered.
What had she done?
Chapter Thirty-Nine
After Dennis left, Rebecca still found herself on that park bench. She was hunched over, her hands covering her face and muffling the tears and gasps. She didn’t often lose control, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this low. She was spiraling so hard she was sure she’d go crashing into the ground soon. Sucking in long and deep breaths, she tried to regain her composure.
Her mind was tormented, and the events of the day played over in her head, each color and memory more painful than the last with now’s lens on it. She saw Monica’s ghost again. The Shroud. Rebecca flinched when she thought back to the words she’d said to Faruq.
“Fuck yourself,” she muttered, the words coming out scratchily from her swollen throat. “Oh, fuck you, Dennis.” Rebecca’s anger flared for a moment, but there was an undertone of sadness she couldn’t rid herself of.
Why did she care so much about what Dennis had said? About his anger? She’d done the right thing. She knew it. Or maybe this recoil was a sign that she wasn’t sure what she had done was right, that telling Faruq about all that happened only opened her up to worse things.
She should have been good like Chad had been, like Dennis was. Hell, even Jennifer had found a way to stay quiet and keep people from digging into her past while in the limelight. So why couldn’t Rebecca have returned, dealt with her case, and been done with it all?
What had brought her back here? Rather, who had brought her back to Hilton Head to be haunted? The killer? The Shroud? The killer who was the Shroud?
Looking up, Rebecca’s eyes burned against the cool breeze flowing through the air. She preferred staying on the bench in the middle of the park to going anywhere else, but she also felt like a sitting duck out in the open and alone like this. There was a killer on the run, after all, and she wasn’t about to let the Shroud finish her off if she could help it.
As she walked to her car, her eyes wandered to a payphone a few yards away and then to her watch. Dennis didn’t live too far from here. Right now, he was likely to be home. Should she call him? No, she couldn’t do that. Besides, there had to be some reason outside of her that made him so angry about their group’s secret being divulged.
“Hell,” she sighed as she got into her car and locked the doors. Rebecca wondered if Dennis was going to do anything in retaliation for what she had done. Would her junior detective job even be waiting for her when she got to El Paso? Hell, would she even be allowed to leave Hilton Head if Dennis went to Faruq and gave a different story or denied hers?
She slammed her palms against the steering wheel in frustration. There had to be options, but she couldn’t think of a single one. Rebecca stabbed the key into the ignition of the car and twisted it back hard. Soon she was jerking the car into gear and driving out of the parking lot, her tires squealing and likely burning black marks into the street as she pressed on the gas a little too hard.
For the first five minutes, Rebecca just drove. She didn’t bother looking at street signs and knew she was paying no mind to the speed limit. She just had to get away for a while. She took to the highway and quickly merged herself into the fast lane.
The sun tried to blind her in the mirrors of her vehicle, but Rebecca didn’t let it. She didn’t close her eyes no matter how much they burned. She knew she would have to go back. But before she did, she also knew she had to come up with some sort of plan.
It seemed everyone in that town was a snake. Some lifted their bellies from the dirt to show their fangs, but others slithered down in the dust and wrapped around her legs before she could see them for who they were.
Detective Rebecca Morgan was a lot of things, but a mouse she was not, and waiting to be hunted down the way her friends were was not going to be her fate. She was going to figure this out and find answers somehow. But first, she drove away.
Away eventually led her into the downtown portion of the city Rebecca didn’t know. Randomly, she turned her head right and noticed Bruce’s comic book store. Her mind began to wander to him, and she decided nothing was left to do but go see how Bruce was doing. What would be the harm?
“What’re you up to, Bruce?” Rebecca asked. She forced a fake smile onto her face and felt the crust of the tears falling away from her cheeks. When she got to the hospital and parked, she rubbed them with the palms of her hands until her cheeks were bare again. She took a breath.
Glancing into the rearview mirror, Rebecca saw a dark smudge in the reflection. Or was that a person? A Shroud? Her pulse rose as she saw the darkness overcoming the glass until it was all black. She swiftly turned her head around, but then it was gone, and all she saw was empty space behind her car.
“I need to get the fuck out of here and into the building,” Rebecca concluded, not knowing how much longer she’d be free to go around in search of the truth. She pulled her hair back with a ponytail holder and put on some sunglasses. It wasn’t as if doing this brought her anonymity, but it still comforted her somewhat as she left the car and headed into the hospital building.
When she got to Bruce’s floor, she saw a police guard there. It was a tall, dark man, his arms laced with muscle and a Hilton Head PD patch. So, Faruq had put someone on Bruce. Interesting. Then Rebecca began formulating a plan of action to get him away.
Sliding her sunglasses down her nose and off her face, she walked up to the police officer. Rebecca used her right index finger to tap his shoulder and then waited for a response, curving her lips downward into a frown.
“How can I help you, ma’am?” he asked.
“Officer, I’m sorry to bother you,” she began. “I… Oh, you’re guarding this room right here. Never mind…”
“No, no, what’s wrong?” th
e officer asked her, turning toward Rebecca. She had to bite her lip to hold back a smile.
“Well… Okay, so there’s this tall guy in a dark black hoodie or something over in the hallway over there.” She pointed behind herself. “I’ve been visiting my grandma—she had a stroke—and he’s been there for a while. I’m not sure why, but it’s sort of making me and my mother uncomfortable. He doesn’t seem to be visiting anyone. I looked for security, but I couldn’t find them anywhere,” she lied. “Would you mind going to see what he’s doing?”
“Of course. If you’d like, you can wait here while I take care of it.”
“Thank you, Officer.”
As soon as he walked away, Rebecca went inside Bruce’s hospital room. When she stopped in front of the bed, though, Bruce was missing. Rebecca’s eyes widened as she looked closer at the bed to see if she was missing something.
How could he have been in a coma earlier and now be missing? She turned around to see if the guard had come back, but she didn’t see him. Then Rebecca began to look around the room. She felt a breeze.
The window to the room was wide open, and the curtains billowed out from the strength of the wind. There wasn’t any broken glass on the floor or anything, so she figured it was the product of easy entry and removal, of someone in the room leaving.
“That ass… I knew he did something, but… Wow, Bruce.” Rebecca had to chuckle to herself for a moment. It seemed Bruce was guiltier than she’d even had proof of. Wait until Faruq got wind of this. “Wait.” Another thought entered her mind.
If Bruce was guilty, who had chased her as the Shroud? Who was at that beach house and at the docks? Could there be more than one killer? But who?
Instantly Dennis’s name popped into her head. Considering how he’d reacted to what she’d said earlier, he was obviously closer to all of this than he was willing to admit. Plus, she’d never seen him be attacked by the Shroud, and he was so concerned about his life being ruined.