by A. M. Brooks
“Anyway, there’s a party tonight at Marco’s. Just wanted to say you should come. We’d all love to see you. Stone said to let him know when you get there,” Joey says, leaning forward to meet my eyes.
“I was already invited. I don’t really party anymore though. You can tell Stone and the others ‘Hi’ and I’ll see them around, during decent hours,” I add and Joey laughs again. The sound warms me a little. I forgot how much these guys don’t take anything seriously, so I raise my eyebrow at him.
“Okay,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender. “I gotta get back and catch some sleep anyway.” He turns to leave and I follow him back to the window. “I’ll see you later, Blaisy.” He reaches out and tugs on my top-knot.
“See you, Joe,” I reply, holding the window until he was out on the balcony again.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” He turns back to me. “Just wondering, have you heard from Seth since the funeral? I can’t get ahold of him.”
My heart stops before kicking into overdrive. My face contorted in anger. “Seriously? Have I heard from Seth? I haven’t heard from anyone since the funeral. I thought you all were on vacation in Vegas gambling, sleeping around, and partying. No, I haven’t heard from Seth.”
“Okay,” he says quietly, looking around to see if any of my neighbors woke up. “Blaise, I’m sorry. There was just no way to hang out around here after. We should have called you though.” He rakes a hand through the blonde mess on his head.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and shrug. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Hope I see you later,” he answers, tugging my knot again in goodbye. My head jerks in response. I watch him in a daze as he climbs down the stairs and gets on his bike that’s parked in front of the building.
The sun is just starting to come up over the horizon. A haze was forming, indicating that it was going to be another hot day. I close the window and bury myself back in my blankets. More questions flood my mind. I squeeze my eyes tight attempting to block out everything. Frustrated, I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. I try to relax my body but my nerves were strung tight. At this point, falling back asleep was not going to happen. Looking at the clock, it was now seven. Might as well get up.
The dirt road to Sarge’s seemed to go on forever. My stomach is twisted in knots over seeing Mr. Mysterious again. I want answers about as much as I want to turn, hightail it back to town, and just hide in bed until my shift starts. I believe Sarge wouldn’t be helping unless he also thought something was up with the case. It was hard to blindly trust Mr. Mysterious though. I don’t really know him. Only that he had incredible eyes and was very talented with a few of his extremities. I shake my head, clearing those thoughts. He obviously doesn’t remember. It would be better for me in the long run for him not to find out.
As I round the last curve, I immediately see his big black truck that had peeled out of the parking lot last night. He was already here. A few chills ran down my back and the butterflies in my stomach take off again. It was stupid getting so worked up like this. I park next to Sarge’s squad car like I always do before unclasping my seatbelt and getting out. Pricilla sees me from in the house and waves. I give her a little wave back before I start walking toward the stable area.
Sarge is loading up the bed of his work truck with stacks of hay. Mr. Mysterious is helping to pile everything on top. He stops when he sees me, his gaze raking down my body from head to foot. I feel him taking in my destroyed jean shorts, vintage AC/DC t-shirt and grey Chucks. A blush spreads across my cheeks. I turn to Sarge first and spread a fake smile across my face to go with my small wave. Sarge hugs me while Mr. Sexy Eyes hops down from the truck. He peels off his gloves and drinks from his water bottle, his eyes still intently on me.
“Glad you could make it, Blaise,” Sarge says to me.
I shrug in response. “Wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Sarge turns to me, his mouth set in a grim line. “This here is Detective McCall from Las Vegas. He’s the one who has some information on Blake.”
“We met unofficially,” Detective McCall informs him. My blush deepens, thinking he is referring to our first meeting. “I ran into Blaise at Señor Loco last night,” he says and I let my breath out. He still thinks he met me for the first time last night. I want to laugh and at the same time, I want to stick my head in the sand.
“Jay,” he says, holding out his large hand to me.
“Hi,” I say before sliding mine into his. His long fingers tighten, sending shocks of awareness through me. Even in the arid ninety-degree heat, my hand feels cold inside his. I will myself to calm down and concentrate on the information this guy has.
“I’ll leave you two to get caught up then so we can decide our next move,” Sarge says, excusing himself. He hops in his truck and drives up toward the house. I watch Jay closely as his eyes follow Sarge’s retreating form go inside.
“Want to take a walk?” he asks suddenly.
Again, I shrug. “Sure.” We follow the path that takes us farthest from the house and I knew would eventually lead to a small swimming pond. Silence stretches between us the whole way down. How was the sex for you? Why are you investigating my brother’s death? The questions linger on my tongue. I stay quiet, hoping he’ll break the silence soon instead. He seems to like doing things his own way. When we get to the lake, I sit on the log bench that is still there. After a few seconds, he joins me. He leans back, letting his long legs stretch out. The movement caused his shirt to ride up, giving me a glimpse of tanned, smooth skin underneath. I quickly avert my eyes toward the water hoping he didn’t notice me check him out.
“Not to be demanding or anything, but what is this all about?” I ask. I need a distraction.
“Not demanding, huh?” He smiles.
“No offense, but I sort of had plans I gave up before work to meet with you instead,” I lie, picking at the polish on my nails.
His lips tilt in that knowing smirk. “It’s a really long story, Blaise, there is no way I could have told you everything last night. I don’t even know everything.” His face hardens and he leans forward, cracking his knuckles.
“Why don’t you tell me what you do know then. Why are you investigating my brother?” I don’t care that I am demanding this time.
He’s quiet for a moment, gazing out at the water. I see his throat bob and feel his body tense next to me.
“It’s not really that simple, Blaise,” he sighs. “I’m not investigating your brother. I’m investigating the events that led to his death. Blake didn’t die in an accident.”
His words run through my head, not making sense. “What?” I ask, my voice cracking.
“Listen, there is a lot you don’t know about what happened back then that might make more sense now. There are also a lot of things I’m going to tell you that you won’t believe, but I need you to trust me. What I’m going to tell you is the honest truth. I need to solve this case to find peace. For him to rest easily.”
“Why would I trust you?” I ask.
“Blake did,” he replies and just like that, he has my full attention.
“Start at the beginning, Jay,” I whisper, pulling my knees up to my chest, I wrap myself up, holding together my insides and pushing back the sobs wanting to break free.
“I knew Blake for a few years. I made a huge drug bust awhile back which led me to a specific crew working in Las Vegas. Some bad shit happened one night and the next thing I knew Blake was in my office spilling all this vital information, fully cooperating. He began working with my team and me. Trading information for money. He said he had a younger sister who wanted to go to college. We worked together for about two years building the case. He became like a younger brother and friend to me.” Jay stops talking, looking sideways at me intently, watching my expression. I stare back at him, wanting him to continue talking about Blake.
“A couple weeks before the accident, we began looking at a new angle on the case. It really upset yo
ur brother, but he was all in to keep helping us. He brought a friend in—”
“Seth,” I say, not even having to guess at this point.
“Yeah, and things took a sideways turn from there,” he answers.
“How?” I ask him. The story couldn’t end there and again, why is Seth in the middle of this.
“We have no idea what happened. There was a solid plan in place. We walked through every detail many times and we designated which hotel everything would go down at. I wasn’t going to be in Vegas with them that night. I was doing surveillance on another piece of important detail in case things did go bad. The whole plan was flawless. Somehow though, Blake ended up almost here, he was dead and a bag of money went missing along with your friend,” Jay explains, shaking his head.
“Are you saying Seth was responsible for the car accident?” I practically shouted before standing up to pace back and forth. I could feel Jay watching me, anticipating my next actions, expecting an outburst. “That doesn’t even make sense! They were best friends. Blake drove fast all the time. He was reckless on more than one occasion.”
“Blaise…” Jay says softly, standing up in front of me before placing his hands on my shoulders, stopping my movement, “The coroner’s report showed that he had a fatal amount of heroin in his system. He died before the car even hit that tree.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Blake did not do drugs!” My heart was racing. None of what Jay was telling me made any sense. “He wouldn’t even smoke marijuana! He hated drugs so much because of our dad. What about my mom? Why didn’t we know this before? Shouldn’t someone have told us back then that he was murdered instead of us believing it was a pointless, stupid accident?”
Jay lets a breath out, his hands scraping over the scruff on his jaw. “We couldn’t let details out because the investigation is still open. Believe me, I would have told you sooner if I could have. I’m only allowed to now after being sent here. It’s been months and the fuckers responsible haven’t been tagged yet and the bag is still missing. All of our concrete evidence is in that bag.”
“So, now what?” I ask. I can feel the sting of tears behind my eyes. The last thing I want to do is cry in front of Jay. I just need to run and turn off my mind.
“We wait. I need to find Seth. Blake’s last call was an incoming one from Seth. Blaise, I need that bag to help this case,” Jay answers.
“What do you need from me?” The words fall quietly out of my mouth. I figure this must be the main point of him being here. This is the reason for the secrets and the games. Why else go to the sister and not the parents.
Jay takes my hands in his, turning me to face him. “I need you to pretend I’m new in town and just helping Sergeant Ramirez working part-time at the ranch. We never had this conversation. Just act like we’re friends.” I accidentally snort rolling my eyes. His beautiful ones narrow at me. “Can’t be my friend, Blaise?”
“We hardly know each other. I’m not very friendly these days to the people I do consider friends,” I warn him. No one was about to believe I just happened to thaw from an ice queen and picked up a new friend within days.
“I wouldn’t say we hardly know each other,” he says, taking a step closer to me. My face flames bright red, and my chest flares with anxiety.
“What about Seth?” I change the subject before he says anything else. A small bubble of hope that maybe he did remember that night forms. The thought makes me super uncomfortable.
He laughs, clearly aware of my embarrassment. “If you hear from Baird, just let me know. I need to find out where he is.”
“What about my mom?” I ask. Testing him to see how well he really knew Blake.
He studies my face before crossing his arms across his chest. “Blake wouldn’t have gone to her. There is nothing she would know more about than you. When this is all over, I’ll tell her what really happened to him..”
“Fine,” I say, pulling back from him. “The only reason I’m not calling bullshit right now is because Sarge approves of you.”
“I would expect nothing less of you, Blaise,” he answers, watching me retreat back up the hill. “I’ll see you tonight,” he says, the words were so quiet I barely hear them as I make my way back to the ranch. I run the rest of the way to my car, jump in and tak off down the dirt road.
So many things Jay told me didn’t make sense, yet in a weird way, I believe him. Part of me knows Blake was a crazy driver, but he always handled himself. I knew he had been extra busy lately, but I attributed it to the Vegas lifestyle. He had encouraged me to stay home and study for the ACT instead of coming with him during spring break. I thought he just wanted me to do good so I could get into any college I wanted. Now I was doubting anything my brother had ever told me. The Blake that Jay was describing to me was not the same person I thought I knew.
The tears I had been holding back coast down my cheeks freely, my heart squeezes in pain. He had made a plan for himself and for me. My older brother always put me before himself and this time it may have cost him his life. Guilt eats at my stomach when I finally arrive home. The apartment was dark, and I could tell my mom wasn’t home again. With only a few hours left until my shift, I decide to run. I need the connection and the burn in my lungs to help erase the feelings in my heart.
After my five-mile run, I decided to go into work early. Luis accepts my help and one of the new servers is relieved to go home early. Usually, I don’t like serving. I prefer to be busy behind the bar so that time goes by faster. Tonight though, I just need my mind focused on anything except the conversation with Jay, err-Detective McCall. Taking orders and having to be polite to random strangers seems like a good way to do that.
I was being honest when I told him I hadn’t heard from Seth. No matter how hard I try to ignore it, I feel guilty thinking I may have to rat on Seth. All these mixed feelings swirling in my head were giving me a headache. I almost hope I never hear from the kid again. It’s painful to imagine a person I have known forever, my first… could somehow be connected to Blake’s murder. That’s what it was now. Murder. Not an accident. I shudder.
A few mind-numbing hours later, I’m on my way to Jenna’s before the party. My plan had been to just go to the party, but she made a big deal about us girls getting ready together. I suddenly missed hanging out with guys. They didn’t care about that stuff and neither did I.
I pull up to her house and can hear the latest pop hits blaring from inside. Two other cars are also on the driveway, so I assume the other girls are already here. Before I can knock, Logan opens the door, dipping into an overly gallant pose and ushers me in.
“Girls are upstairs,” he says, taking a sip of the beer in his hand.
“Are you just on door duty?” I ask him, laughing.
“It’s better than hearing about bra straps, cat eyes, and which heels match better,” he answers, rolling his eyes. I nod my head, agreeing with him one hundred percent. The thought of going upstairs makes my insides curl. Looking down, I study the basic strappy sandals I had put on earlier. Definitely not high heels or even the latest fashion trend.
“Anyway, Jenna’s pretty excited you’re coming tonight, you should head up there,” Logan tells me, interrupting my thoughts.
I take the stairs slowly, hoping to avoid the rest of Justin Bieber’s “Sorry.” I can still hear Logan chuckling as he goes back into the safety of the kitchen. The minute I reach her room, Jenna is on me.
“Blaise!” she yells, flinging her arms around my shoulders. “It’s about time, I thought you were backing out. Want some ‘strip and go naked’?” she asks, passing me a large-sized drink cooler.
“Started early?” I ask, taking the jug and holding it away from my nose. The smell is strong and sour. “What’s in it?”
“Vodka, pink lemonade, and beer,” the girl with the bobbed black hair lists off for me. I think her name is Molly. She stands up swiftly on her towering wedge heels, her jean skirt making her normally short legs look a mile long
before she walks over to us.
I peek quickly down at my jeans. I was proud that I had found a pair that had some sparkles and still fit me pretty well. After Blake died and the guys moved, I never went out. Basic black jeans and shorts were all I owned. My tops were all tanks, old band t-shirts, one camouflage and one black leather jacket were my go-to.
“Blaise, are you going to change?” Jenna asks me and I frown.
“Umm, I was just going to wear this,” I say, taking a quick pull from the jug. The bitterness from the lemonade makes my lips pucker. Judging by the looks on the girls’ faces, I guess that the dress code at Marco’s must have changed since I was there last.
“Don’t be silly,” Jenna says, throwing a piece of white denim at me. “You can borrow mine. But I want it back.” She winks.
I walk into her bathroom and shut the door before stripping off my jeans. The skirt hugs me perfectly, and of course, was provocatively short. I pull the ends down, turning in the mirror to make sure my ass is covered. I don’t mind letting skin show and would never tell a girl she had to cover it up. As long as I wasn’t bending over for anything tonight, I’ll be fine. Opening the bathroom door, Jenna stands right in front of me, holding out a scrap of bubblegum pink material. That’s where I draw the line.
“I’m good with this,” I tell her, gesturing to my thin strap, black tank I threw on earlier. She rolls her eyes. “Fine,” Jenna says before her hand reaches out and snatches the hair tie at the end of my braid, letting it loose. My hair now hanging around my shoulders in messy waves.
“Perfect!” the other blonde, Aubree I think, slurs slightly, clapping her hands together.
My eyebrow arches. “We should go,” I say, directing them toward the door. If we stay here any longer, these girls will have to be carried to the party.
Marco’s parents’ house is off another long dirt road hidden from prying eyes making it the perfect house for his notorious parties. It also helped that his parents worked full time and often were gone on the weekends. Marco was a year younger than me in school, but it didn’t stop his reputation for having the best house to drink, hook up, and smoke some weed. The guys and I had been going to Marco’s parties since his freshman year in high school. Each year the party grew bigger and each year he found a way to top what he did previously.