by Maisy Morgan
“No,” Tripp said without no hesitation. “I don’t believe it for a second, and I don’t think my grandma does either from what she was just texting me. Matthew is innocent. They just arrested him because Donnie was found in his trailer. Of course, he was in Matthew’s trailer—he’s Matthew’s assistant. I think someone is framing Matthew…” Tripp’s voice trailed off. He could see that Hannah had pulled out the Titanic scene and was studying her lines. He got lost in remembering a scene from watching Titanic with his grandmother just days before. It was the scene where Jack gets framed for stealing Rose’s necklace, and he replayed it in his mind. In the end, everything worked out for Jack—apart from his drowning, of course. He hoped that Matthew would be fine and the real criminal would be exposed soon. He just knew that Matthew was innocent and could tell how much the situation was stressing everyone out.
“You know, I heard we’re working on those scenes again today in drama,” Draco interjected, interrupting Tripp’s worries about Matthew but giving him something else to worry about.
“I thought we had monologues she was handing out for us?” Tripp questioned.
“She didn’t finish picking them out over the weekend,” Draco said. “That’s what one of the advanced students was telling me, at least. So she’s just going to have us running lines during class—working in groups. I think she’s doing that so she has time to finish going through old graded papers and to finish approving our monologue choices for our next performance evaluation.”
“So, we’re running lines today…” Tripp said, glancing in Hannah’s direction.
“Looks that way,” she said, not taking her eyes off the paper. “You been studying yours?”
“Um… yeah…”
Draco smirked, and Tripp tried to meet his eye to warn him against crossing a line, but it was too late. “You two going to practice making out?” Draco asked with a big grin. Tripp punched him in the arm.
Hannah chuckled slightly, but it was in a distracted sort of way. Tripp was having a difficult time reading her and trying to figure out how she felt about it. She seemed entirely unphased by it, in fact—like they had just been partnered up to work on a research project in their English class.
The bell rang. Tripp left to go to his health class, one of the two classes he had during the day that he did not share with either of them. They were on sex-ed currently, and the last thing he wanted to do was talk about teenaged hormones with their dopey health education teacher when he was supposed to be practicing some romance scene with Hannah that afternoon. Knowing that they would be working on their showcase scene was enough to distract him the rest of the day from thoughts of his mother and Matthew.
He entered his drama class at the end of the day and sat down by Draco, who was rummaging through his script, grumbling. “So many lines…” Draco moaned. “Like, so many…”
“You just got a big monologue is all it is,” Tripp said. “At least you don’t have this.” He said this while shaking his flimsy little script that was mostly stage directions involving awkward touching and hugging and kissing.
“I don’t know, man,” Draco said and leaned in to speak softly so no one else would hear. “Hannah’s really cute, you know?”
Tripp punched him in his arm again, shooting him a glare as sharp as daggers and Draco backed down with a laugh. Draco loved making Tripp uncomfortable. The bell rang, but Hannah was nowhere to be seen. Mrs. Smitz emerged from her side office, her curly hair bouncing about. “Well, I suppose you all heard that I am behind on grading papers and have elected to use that as a perfect excuse for you to divide up into your showcase groups to run lines,” she said. “So, find yourselves a corner and start running lines. I expect most of you to have your lines memorized in the next week or two so we can begin discussing blocking!” With a dramatic flair, she sashayed back to her side office.
Larger groups dispersed into the back hall—the drama room was fairly secluded from other classrooms since it was right next to the school’s auditorium, so they often used the hallway as a class space. Tripp sat alone, reading his lines quietly to himself. Where was Hannah? Had she bailed again?
After a few minutes of reading by himself in a corner, Mrs. Smitz emerged from her side office again to check on everyone’s progress. She zeroed in on Tripp, and his stomach dropped. “Oh, I meant to take attendance… honestly… Hannah not here today?” she asked.
“She was here earlier,” Tripp mentioned but then followed up with, “I guess she had to go home for something.”
“Well, no worries,” Mrs. Smitz said, and she plopped herself down on the floor next to him. “I’ll run lines with you so you have someone to practice with. I’m about caught up on my papers anyhow…”
Tripp’s face felt like it had gotten ten degrees hotter, and a lump formed in his throat. “Oh, no, that’s okay. I study better by myself anyway…”
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Smitz said; she had a notebook with her, which she flipped through until she found her copy of his and Hannah’s script. “It’s always good to get the feel of the scene by running lines with someone else.”
“Of course it is,” Tripp groaned uncomfortably wincing at this bad luck. This time, Hannah better have a good reason for not being there and forcing him to run his lines, their romantic scene, with his teacher.
Chapter Ten
Mary could hardly focus on what Ella May was saying to her about the chocolate raspberry tart they had just put out on display. The elderly woman Mary had hired to help out around the shop was very opinionated about the display case, so Mary would usually just let her handle it. While Mary was the owner and the woman’s boss, Ella May certainly had an eye for this sort of thing that Mary would never deny. Plus, right now, she was too busy watching the clock, waiting on Preston. He had agreed to meet her there before they headed to the station. He was exactly two minutes late, which, since Mary was waiting on him to drive her to her distressed daughter, felt like an eternity.
He came rushing through the door, knowing quite well that he had kept her waiting longer than she would have liked—even if it had only been two minutes. “Sorry I’m late,” he said. “Morning, Ella May.” He nodded approvingly at the older woman who, smiled.
“Morning, Officer Preston,” she said. “You better get a move on. I just talked to the poor girl for ten minutes about whether or not she wanted me to put worms in the display case, and I daresay that proves she hadn’t heard a word I’ve been saying to her all morning.”
“Wait, really?” Mary questioned, wondering if Ella May had seriously been talking to her about worms or if this was some test in and of itself to see if she had been paying attention. She would never know as the woman merely laughed slightly at her.
“Your daughter is fine,” Ella Mary assured her, and Mary thanked her for allowing her to abandon ship to go take care of this family matter.
Mary left with Preston, and he gave her a tight hug once they were out the door. “How is she?” Mary asked as they hurried to his patrol car. “Is Lilly okay?”
“She made it to the precinct bright and early this morning and spent most of the time pacing the lobby,” Preston said. “But she’s holding up just fine. I assured her that nothing was official just yet.”
“So, Matthew wasn’t arrested?” Mary asked.
“Well…yes, he was,” Preston said, and Mary’s stomach lurched.
“He was really arrested? For murder?” Mary questioned as Preston opened up the passenger seat of the car for her before hurrying around himself.
“Yes,” Preston said. “There was a formal arrest.”
“Did you… did you arrest him?” Mary questioned.
“No!” Preston said quickly. “It was this other officer who is trying to take over my case. I was given this case, but he’s saying it’s too close to home for me since your daughter is dating Matthew. I’m trying to get the chief to overturn it, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. There is some evidence to suggest that Matthe
w might have had something to do with it.”
Mary frowned. “Do you think he could have done this?” Mary asked.
Preston shrugged. “Honestly, Mary, I don’t know the guy well enough to comment.”
Mary didn’t like that answer. She sat with her arms crossed and her stomach in knots as they headed to the station. Lilly was waiting for them in the lobby, and she looked like an absolute mess. She hurried to Mary and flung her arms around her neck pitifully. Mary squeezed her daughter tight in her arms. “We’re going to get this straightened out,” she promised her.
With Mary present, Lilly seemed to calm down rather instantaneously. She rubbed her tear-soaked eyes, and the thought that Lilly had been this emotional since their phone call at four in the morning made her feel terrible for not having come sooner. “I’m going to go talk to the chief,” Preston told them both. “You two wait here,” and he disappeared.
Mary sat down with Lilly at one of the benches, holding her hand. “Take a deep breath, sweetheart,” she said. “We don’t have all the answers just yet. Hopefully, they’ll let him go soon.”
They waited patiently for Preston, and at last, he appeared around a corner—another officer behind him looking rather irate. “Backstabber,” he groaned to Preston.
“Screw you, Paul,” Preston retorted as the officer, Paul, marched out the door.
“Who was that?” Mary asked.
Lilly knew. “He’s the one who showed up at the hotel.”
“Chief is sending him home,” Preston said. “He stepped out of line barging in on my case like that.”
“So Matthew is going to be released?” Lilly asked, her face starting to light up like she thought Preston was some unsung hero.
“Um… no,” Preston said. “Looks like chief thinks Paul might have made the right call. Lilly, Mary… can you two join me in one of the interrogation rooms? Lilly, we need to talk.”
Lilly went rather pale. Mary didn’t feel much better given Preston’s tone either, but she walked alongside Lilly encouragingly as Preston brought them to a back room. They sat down, and Preston poured Lilly a glass of water to help her with her nerves. “Okay, there is no reason to start panicking yet,” he assured her. “I just need you to tell me about Matthew and Donnie. Can you tell me anything about their friendship or their working relationship?” he asked. “Did they have any unresolved conflicts that you know of?”
“No,” Lilly said firmly. “No, none. Matthew and Donnie are friends. Good friends. Best friends. Matthew would never hurt anybody.”
“I know that’s how you feel, Lilly, but I need you to give me something. Something I can look into,” Preston said. “Is there anything—anything at all—that you can think of that could possibly tie Matthew to this?”
“No,” she said, though less firmly than before.
“The belt around Donnie’s neck was Matthews,” Preston began. “And Matthew’s DNA was found all over the crime scene.”
“Of course it was!” Lilly’s retorted, and Mary reached out and touched her elbow to let her know now was not the time to raise her voice. Lilly breathed. “Of course it was. It was Matthew’s dressing room.”
“So, do you believe that someone entered Matthew’s dressing room with Donnie and used Matthew’s belt to strangle him?” Preston asked.
“That must be what happened,” Lilly insisted. “Mathew would never hurt Donnie. They’ve known each other since they were little kids. They are so close. You have no idea. They grew up together. Their parents worked together when they were kids. They went everywhere together. Same school system for twelve years. Hung out every weekend during college. They were as close as brothers, if not closer. Matthew… Mom, you saw him. You saw how upset he was. He’s devastated by what happened to Donnie.”
“It’s true,” Mary said in agreement. “I saw that poor young man fall apart.”
“He… he is a professional actor,” Preston suggested. Mary knew Preston had to ask these sorts of questions, but it was still hard not to take it personally given how upset Lilly was looking.
“Yes, and a lot of that is thanks to Donnie,” Lilly said. “Donnie and Matthew have each other to thank for their careers. What kind of motive could Matthew possibly have for hurting Donnie?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Preston said. “It was Matthew’s belt wrapped around Donnie’s neck. When we showed it to him, even Matthew said he knew it was his. He says he left it in the dressing room after he had changed into his costume for the scene they were filming.”
“Yes, that’s true,” Lilly said. “But that still doesn’t mean someone else couldn’t have picked it up and used it.”
“I agree,” Preston said. “But Lilly, I need you to be totally honest with me. Is there anything at all you can think of that might make Matthew look guilty?”
There was a long pause. Lilly seemed to be thinking hard, but she came back with a firm, “No.”
Mary wasn’t sure, but she felt like Preston didn’t believe Lilly. He was staring at her like she was just another perp he was trying to crack, and this made Mary very uneasy. At last, he rose from his seat. “Will you wait here for a moment, Lilly?” he said and then slipped out of the room.
Mary turned to Lilly. She was still a bit shaky. “Everything is going to be just fine,” she promised her, and Lilly nodded nervously. They waited around for several minutes, but Preston didn’t return. At last, Mary stood and knocked on the door to be let out. Someone opened it up, and she stepped out, promising Lilly she would be back in just a moment.
Preston had been standing just outside the door. He had been watching the two of them through the one-way mirror. “What are you doing?” Mary questioned him.
“It’s a legitimate interrogation tactic,” Preston said. “Leaving someone in a room for a bit to make them nervous.”
Mary was shocked. “That’s my daughter in there, Preston.”
“I know,” he said. “And, I think your daughter is lying to me.”
“Excuse me?”
“I mean it, Mary,” Preston said. “I’ve done this long enough to know when someone isn’t being entirely truthful. Lilly knows something, and she doesn’t want to tell me. There is something bothering her—something she wants to tell me but is afraid to. I just have to find out what it is.”
“You don’t think Matthew really did this, do you?” Mary asked. “Otherwise, why go to the chief about Paul overstepping?”
“Because this is not Paul’s case,” Preston said. “But Paul did have a point in looking into Matthew. It’s all incredibly circumstantial, I think, but for now, I’m having Matthew’s records pulled. I’m looking into him just like I would any other suspect.”
“So he really is a suspect?” Mary questioned.
“Yes, Mary,” Preston said. “But not a very good one. I think I’m going to clear him quicker than you think.”
“I don’t like you leaving my daughter in there to stew,” Mary insisted.
Preston turned and looked at Mary with sad eyes. “I know,” he said. “I’m not a fan of it either, but I’ve got to do my job, Mary. And, I need her to be honest with me. I guarantee you she’s not being honest. I hope you know I’m not taking great pleasure in making her squirm a bit, but if she’s not going to open up and talk to me, I’m going to let her get nervous.”
Mary sighed. “Fine,” she said, relenting. “What are we supposed to do while we leave her in there?”
“I’m going to talk to Matthew. Chief is moving him into the other interrogation room for me now,” Preston said. “He likes you. Trusts you, I think. Would you want to come and sit in on it?”
Mary thought about this for a moment. A part of her wanted to go sit down with Lilly, but she understood what it was Preston was trying to do. If Lilly was not being open and honest with Preston, then the truth needed to be uncovered quickly. “I’ll go with you,” she said despite how annoyed she felt about the whole thing.
“Good,” Pre
ston said, watching Lilly through the mirror as she fiddled with a glass of water. “I don’t think Lilly believes Matthew hurt Donnie, but I do believe she thinks there’s something that might make him look like he did. I just need to know what that thing is so that I can look into it.”
Mary nodded. “Whatever you’ve got to do, Preston.”
She followed him down the hall after taking one last look at her daughter through the one-way mirror. She was still fidgeting in her seat. He stopped outside a door, taking a look through another one-way mirror where Matthew was seated on the other side, looking just as nervous as Lilly.
Chapter Eleven
“You ready?” Preston asked her, and Mary nodded.
They entered into the second interrogation room, and Matthew looked up at them with an expression of sheer desperation. “Mary. Preston…” he muttered. “You’ve got to believe me. I didn’t have anything to do with what happened to Donnie.”
“I believe you,” Mary said as she pulled up a seat across from him and beside Preston. “But that doesn’t mean Preston doesn’t have to do his due diligence and follow through the with the investigation.”
“Right, right,” Matthew said, seeming only slightly less on edge to hear that Mary didn’t believe he had committed the murder. “Well, whatever you need to know.”
“Let’s start by talking about what was found at the crime scene,” Preston said. “Your belt. Wrapped around Donnie’s neck. Even you told the arresting the officer that the belt was yours.”
“It was,” Matthew said. “But I wasn’t wearing it or anything. It’s what I had worn that morning when we got on set. We got on set, and they told me my costume was waiting for me in my dressing room. I undressed, put my clothes and the belt aside, and then got dressed before the makeup designer came in to do up that blood gash you two saw that day. That was the last time I had been in my dressing room until I was told about Donnie.”