by L A Cotton
Murder.
The word invaded my mind, filling every last tiny inch of space until my head felt like it might explode.
Murder.
Ana's voice managed to penetrate my trance, but not enough that I could really concentrate.
“Can you tell us what you saw, Agatha, please?”
The woman shifted in her chair, folding her ankles over one another, her hands folded neatly in her lap. The skin on her arms seemed transparent. I hadn’t noticed before, and I wondered just how old she actually was.
“It was a long time ago,” she began, looking at nothing particular on the wall. Lost in her memories. “Two thousand and two. I remember it because it was the year Max died.” There was sadness in her voice, and she gulped. “Most loyal hound you’d ever meet, that dog. I was out walking him on our usual route through Hobson Creek. He just loved wading in the water to fish for minnow. Got his leg caught on some wire and I had to wade in after him and haul him out. He’d cut it up pretty bad, but I’d seen a cabin along our route so I went to ask for help.”
Ana’s fingers clenched around my hand, but I didn’t flinch. I had been transported to the creek with Agatha, and, although I’d never been out to the creeks in the local area, I could see the cabin in my mind’s eye.
“There were two vehicles parked outside. One of those fancy looking off-roaders and a sleek sports type. I could see a couple of men inside through the window. Their voices weren’t particularly loud, but they were angry, and it stopped me dead in my tracks. Max’s ears perked right up, but I didn’t want to draw attention to us, so I gave him a couple of treats. Those milk-bone marrow snacks, you know the ones?”
Agatha talked as if she wasn’t about to describe the moment she witnessed a murder.
Dad’s murder.
“Well, they calmed him right down, and I tugged him around the side of the cabin and hid among the foliage. I suppose it was rude to snoop, but I was intrigued as to what they were doing all the way out here with their fancy vehicles and tailored suits.
“I could only make out the odd word of their disagreement, but I heard the dark-haired man call the man with the bluest eyes I ever did see Marcus. At the time, I didn’t realize who he was. It wasn’t until I saw a picture in the newspaper a few days later that I recognized them. The infamous Marcus Donohue and his best friend and business associate, Michael Pierce….” Agatha trailed off into a weary sigh.
The old lady’s words swirled around in my head bleeding into one another, forming one continuous noise. I could feel Ana’s hand still encasing mine, but I felt detached.
“I must have stood there a good ten minutes before their voices grew louder, and Max started to growl. He was wriggling around in my arms, bleeding all over my shirt, but something caught my eye. A gun, he had a gun.” Panic filled her voice as if she was seeing it for the first time again, and my heart stopped.
Everything stopped.
“The dark-haired man—Marcus—he pointed it right at Michael’s head, mouthed something, and pulled the trigger.”
A pulse shot through me and my heart restarted, thudding in my chest so fast that I thought I might puke right there on the linoleum. Ana squeezed my hand so hard it hurt, but the pain pulled me back into the room.
To reality.
Only it felt like my worst nightmare.
“The sound startled Max so much that the silly thing leaped out of my arms and took off, on three good legs. I found him crouched under a bush about half a mile south of the cabin. Of course, it was almost nightfall by the time I managed to move. The shock had set in, I think.”
“Wha-what happened next, Agatha?” Ana’s voice trembled as she spoke.
“I heard others come. Another vehicle. Men. There was another argument. But don’t ask me what was said because I can’t remember much after the gunshot. When I finally gained control of my limbs again, everyone was gone and I crawled out of my hiding place. It was like they were never there.”
“And when you got home?”
“I locked the door and barricaded myself and Max in the bathroom. We didn’t come out until the next morning when I realized no one was coming for us.”
Ana nodded beside me. “Sarah said you contacted the police?”
Agatha shook her head, something passing in her eyes. “Not right away. I was too scared. What if they had seen me? Or heard Max? That was all I could think. I didn’t leave the house for days, too scared of what might happen. I kept watching the news, waiting for something to be reported, but there was nothing. No reports of gunfire or missing persons. Not one iota. It was only by chance that I placed their faces. I was cleaning my window with some old newspapers, and there they were staring back at me. I’d heard the odd story about Donohue, but I kept to myself back then. Still do. A woman like me doesn’t have much time for local gossip.”
“So you called the police after you realized who they were?”
Agatha moved her head up and down slowly. “Told them I wanted to report a murder. Gave them times, locations, names. Said they’d send someone out to see me. No one came. I called again and again. Eventually, I stopped calling. A few weeks after I called, I found Max dead in the garden. He'd bled out from his stomach. He had a note pinned to him.”
Ana gasped, but I was still stuck back at the cabin imagining Marcus pulling the trigger.
“Forget. That’s all it said. So, I did. I never told a soul what I saw up there in the woods, and they left me alone.” Agatha’s head moved slightly so that she was looking right at me. “The guilt never did leave me. It’s still here.” She moved her hand to her chest.
I leaped to my feet. I hadn’t planned to, but I needed air. I couldn’t breathe with Agatha looking at me like that. Regret, guilt, pain, horror—all glistening in her eyes. It was too much. Ana called out to me as I rushed toward the kitchen door and crashed out into the night. Like a drunk stumbling around in the dark, I moved on shaky legs until my back was against the wall. I needed something to hold me up, but my legs gave way anyway and I slid down the wall into a breathless heap. My head tipped back against the cool wood, and I squeezed my eyes shut. It didn’t erase the images of Marcus pulling the trigger; it only made me see it more clearly.
The door opened somewhere next to me and I half expected to hear Ana’s voice. Instead, it was Agatha.
“I don’t know you, just as I didn’t know your father, but no man deserves to die that way. And no death deserves to go unnoticed. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder…” Her voice cracked, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. “I should have tried harder.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Ana
A knock at the front door pulled my attention from the textbook sprawled out on my lap. Not that I could concentrate anyway. Not since visiting Agatha and hearing her recount what she’d witnessed. I’d replayed her words in my head until I wanted to scream and run far away from Chastity Falls and Marcus Donohue. But I could never leave Jackson. Not now. Not after everything we had been through.
Placing the book down, I tucked a few stray hairs behind my ear and went to open the door.
“Surprise, chica.” Elena grinned at me as she hustled past me, far too excited for my current mood.
“Hey,” I replied weakly closing the door behind her.
“Sheesh, Ana, would it hurt for you to at least act a little bit excited that I’m here.”
“Sorry, rough day. Why are you here, by the way?”
“Jackson stopped by and said you might need company.” She pointed to herself. “Company.” Elena waggled her eyebrows in a gesture that would usually penetrate my mood and make me smile. It didn’t.
“Okay, what’s happened? I guessed that something had happened since Jackson personally requested I stop by, but geez, who died?”
My face paled, and Elena’s eyes widened.
“Shit. Did someone actually die? Holy fuck, I didn’t mean, ah crap, me and my big mou-”
“No one died, well
not recently.” I collected up my textbooks and study papers and dumped them in a pile on the floor to the side of the sectional.
“Phew, so what’s up?” Elena made herself at home, kicking off her boots, pulling her legs up and crossing them in front of her.
“We found some stuff out. I- I can’t really talk about it.”
Elena’s face scrunched up in confusion. “This is me, chica. You can tell me anything.”
My teeth dragged my bottom lip between them, chewing frantically, and I shook my head.
“Okay, so you can’t tell me. I can deal. But, Ana, I would never break your trust. You know that, right?” My best friend’s eyes softened around the corners. She was genuinely concerned that I might be withholding things from her because I doubted her loyalty.
“Of course, I know, but this isn’t my news to tell. Can we leave it at that? Please.”
“Sure. I have loads to tell you anyway. But first, did you speak to Paul yet? He’s been really quiet since the party. I think he and Mari had a fight. He says she took off because she felt bad, but I don’t know, she’s been acting weird for a while. Has she spoken to you?”
She hadn’t. Paul had tried to talk to me a couple of times, but something, or someone, always got in the way. It felt like a distant memory given everything else that had happened since.
“No, but things have been a little crazy.”
“She’s the crazy one. Loco,” Elena muttered under her breath. “Anyway, I have loads to tell you. Tyson and Nate were being total…”
Elena launched into a rundown of everything I’d been missing lately. Her, Tyson, Nate, and Lydia had been spending time together double dating. Even Talia and Jarrod joined them a couple of times. As I listened to her tell me about their recent trip out to Portland, pangs of jealousy zipped through me. Would life ever be that simple for Jackson and me? Would we ever just get to be a normal college couple? It was already almost halfway through our junior year and things only looked set to get harder. Especially now that Jackson had the proof he'd been waiting for.
I’d almost asked him not to go with Perkins. Since returning from our meeting with Agatha, he was volatile. Sometimes, he looked on the verge of breaking down while others, he looked ready to do something stupid. But one thing remained the same. He still touched me whenever we were near. A graze of his finger or his arm slung over my shoulder when we were watching TV. It didn't appease my nerves because I still felt it. He was trying to stay afloat in dangerous waters, and I didn’t know how to reach him.
I didn’t know how to pull him out.
“Ana, so what do you think?” Elena tilted her head questioning me with her eyes.
“About?”
“Seriously, sometimes talking to you is like talking to a mannequin. I said who do you think Cassie is seeing? She still hasn’t unveiled mystery guy. It’s starting to bug me.”
“I don’t know,” I replied, trying to stay focused. “Maybe he’s an oddball and she’s embarrassed?”
“No way! Cassie is a man-eater. He has to be something special if she’s keeping him all to herself.”
I shrugged. “Beats me.”
“Maybe we’ll find out at the party tomorrow. You’re still coming, right? Oh, and have you decided what you’re doing for the holidays yet? I’m going back to Arizona with Tyson. Although his brothers drive me loco. Will you be staying here? Or visiting your aunty and uncle?”
Parties and the holidays were the last things on my mind. Even though signs of Christmas were starting to appear all over campus—holly wreaths hanging from doors, the tree in the student center—it did little to crack my armor. Something was coming… and it wasn’t Santa.
“I don’t know yet. We haven’t decided.” I gave Elena a vague answer hoping to pacify her.
“Can you believe how quickly time is going? Soon, we’ll be at the end of junior year, and then we’re seniors. Crazy.” Elena dragged out the z almost singing the word.
“Yeah, a lot has happened.”
“Shit, Ana. Me and my big mouth. Look.” Elena shuffled forward until her knees hit mine. Reaching for my hands, she tugged them between us. “Things have been crap, I get that, but you and Jackson have survived it. I’ve never seen two people more determined to make it work. You can survive anything, even this thing with Marcus. You don’t have anything to worry about, chica.”
I drew my lips into a tight line and nodded, too choked up to reply. Not because I believed Elena’s words or the conviction behind them, but because I wished she was right.
As I stood nestled into a corner of the huge living room at Fallen House, it seemed that the team remembered how to party in Braiden and Jackson’s absence. I felt Dennis watching me from his position over near the door leading to the kitchen, but I didn’t meet his stare. Just knowing he was looking out for me—and sharing my concern over Jackson—was enough.
When Elena had insisted I come, I’d contemplated fighting her on it. The last thing I wanted was to be in a room full of people high on alcohol, drugs, or the festive spirit.
“I’m so glad you came,” Elena mouthed over the pulsating beat, and I tipped my chin slightly, too on edge to answer.
“These guys know how to party, am I right? I’m right,” Jamie answered his own question with a lazy grin. “Shame Jackson couldn’t make it, Ana.”
Jamie grunted as Elena elbowed him in the ribs earning a shake of the head from Tyson and Nate. Lydia was already on her way to being tipsy, tucked into Nate’s side, but there was no sign of Cassie yet.
“Is she trying to be obvious?” Elena remarked watching the door for a sign of Cassie.
“Maybe she's just busy,” Lydia replied coming to her friend’s defense.
Frustration bubbled under the surface, itching for a release. It wasn't Elena and Lydia's fault. They weren't entangled in the mess that had become my life, but the way they stood there acting like it was a scandal that Cassie had yet to arrive, well, it rubbed me the wrong way.
“Drink.” I waved my empty soda cup under Elena's face and set off in the direction of the kitchen.
Dennis didn't speak as I passed him, but I felt him behind me. Following me. I stopped at the counter to refill my cup and glanced around. A couple of people were over at the other side of the room and Steve was guarding the door to the basement, although he was more interested in the cell phone in his hand than what was going on around him.
“Have you heard from him?” I whispered out of the corner of my mouth, trying not to draw attention to us.
Dennis came to stand at my side and helped himself to an empty cup. “I had one text. He's okay.” He started filling up the cup.
I placed my drink down and gripped the edge of the counter leaning forward slightly. “I don't like it. It's too dangerous.”
“Ana, you know it’s not that simple. He has obligations.”
A sarcastic grunt spilled out of me, and Dennis closed the space between us, still avoiding eye contact and trying to remain inconspicuous. Just two acquaintances chatting as we refilled our cups.
“He knows what he’s doing.”
I swung my head around to meet Dennis and ground out, “Does he?”
Jackson was keeping things from me. He was planning to do something stupid; I felt it every time he touched me.
“Chica, get back in here,” Elena’s voice cut through our impasse, and I sighed reluctantly turning to meet my friend as she bounded toward us.
“What’s up, big guy.” She winked at Dennis who tipped his chin.
“Come dance, please. Lydia is glued to Nate, and Cassie still hasn’t shown up. Come on, chica. It’ll be our last dance before the New Year.”
I glanced at Dennis who remained against the counter with an emotionless look on his face. The guy needed to lighten up. It was hard to listen to his advice when he looked so serious all the time. It didn't exactly instill hope.
“I’m coming; I’m coming, but no dancing. I’m not in the mood.”
&
nbsp; Elena grabbed my hand and started pulling me away from Dennis. “Okay, no dancing, but you can watch me.”
Hooray for me, I wanted to reply, but instead, I let her lead me back to the living room where Tyson, Jamie, Nate, and Lydia were still gathered. Dennis didn’t follow us and a sense of discomfort started to creep its way back in. I liked having him in my eyesight. Jackson trusted him implicitly and, over time, I had come to do the same.
Elena made good on her word and started to move in front of us, rolling and popping her hips in time with the beat. Tyson’s eyes watched her, hooded with desire as she swayed and twisted, flicking her hair off her shoulder. Catching my eye, she beamed at me and I returned her smile with a slight one of my own.
My pocket vibrated and I scrambled to find my cell. If it was Jackson, then I didn’t want to miss him, but as my eyes fell on the screen, the room closed in around me. The grainy image of Jackson being served drinks by a topless waitress caused a pain to stab in my chest. The message accompanying the image said:
ARE YOU SURE YOU CAN TRUST HIM?
Tears brimmed my eyes and the urge to scratch at my scars pulsated through me. But I refused to be beaten. Whoever was doing this to me—to us—was purposefully trying to drive Jackson and me apart, to force a wedge between us, and I couldn’t let that happen. For as much as it hurt to see him like that, I had to believe it was innocent. Part of the job, he had told me. I pocketed my cell phone and pretended as if everything was fine.
After twenty minutes, it wasn’t working. I could think of nothing but Jackson and strippers and mobsters. Elena had coaxed Dennis into dancing with her and even Nate and Lydia were loosening up. Jamie was trying his luck with a girl from my poetry class, and I slipped away unnoticed, moving through the house on autopilot. I needed air. Clarity. I needed something, because being in Chastity Falls, away from Jackson, wasn’t working out so well for me.
I pushed past drunken groups of guys, and girls vying for their attention, ignoring the small group smoking weed in the games room, the smell wafting into the hallway. Bursting through the door at the back of the house, it opened out into the yard, and just like two years ago when I’d attended that first party at the house, it was full of half-naked bodies, tangled limbs, and couples lost in the moment. But I managed to shut it all out. Leaning my head back against the cool bricks, I inhaled two deep breaths. My pocket vibrated again.