Songs For Cricket

by Terri E. Laine

  “I’ve got this,” he shouted.

  The picture was so clear, we caught her half-smile. Her lips moved, but unlike Shepard, she’d spoken too softly to be overheard at that distance.

  He didn’t lean on her, but he appeared unsteady.

  “I can do this,” he said, batting at her hand reaching for his pocket.

  She giggled. “Are you sure about that?”

  “Yes,” he slurred.

  The faint sound of jingling could be heard before a soft click. Shepard completely disappeared from view. Lacey moved forward, short enough and far back enough to still be seen.

  “Thanks for the ride, but I’m good.”

  Her sultry steps stopped abruptly as a flash of irritation crossed her pretty features and then went away when she spoke.

  “I’m more than willing to walk you in and tuck you in bed.”

  It was more than what she said, it was how she said it. With him out of view, we couldn’t see his annoyance but had heard it in his next statement.

  “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “You’re turning me down again. Don’t tell me it’s about that other girl—”

  “Look, I’ve told you before I’m not interested.”

  I glanced up at the cops. That should have been good enough for them. Their eyes were locked on the screen.

  “What? You just pretended to be interested in me to get a ride.”

  His next words lashed out. “You offered the ride, I didn’t ask nor did I seek you out.”

  “I won’t be made a fool of,” Lacey spat.

  I wanted to punch her. It all became clear that she did this to spite him.

  “You’re making a fool of yourself. You’re a pretty girl. You don’t need me.”

  He sounded like he felt sorry for her. I didn’t though. Especially when rage crinkled her features, having picked up on his pity. She didn’t like it one bit.

  Her arm whipped out and pointed to where he stood off screen.

  “Do you know who my family is? You will pay for this.”

  The loud sigh could have only come from him as she marched away, spine rigid.

  I blew out the breath I’d been holding for a significant amount of time. My brothers and I then stood straight, but Finn cautioned us there was more.

  “Watch the time,” he said as the video continued to play.

  Lacey got in her car but didn’t drive off. When the video clicked on again, about fifteen minutes passed. She got out of the car and walked toward the house.

  “Is this where she walks in, and you’re somehow going to explain that away?” the meaner detective of the two derisively said though he’d posed it like a question.

  “Just watch,” Finn urged.

  We did. Lacey didn’t go for the front door. She disappeared around the left side in the sliver of space between our house and the townhouse next door.

  “So what?” Miller asked.

  Finn said nothing, just pointed at the time stamp and then at the Apple watch on his arm. Lacey appeared six minutes later.

  “No camera.”

  The detective wouldn’t give up while his partner Hastings hadn’t yet said a word. The feed continued and Lacey finally drove off.

  “That doesn’t prove anything,” Miller stated.

  Hastings said, “I have to agree. There are six minutes missing.”

  Finn rewound the tape to the point where Lacey had exited her car with something in her hand, crossed the street, and just disappeared off camera.

  “Check the time,” he ordered.

  It was seventeen minutes after the hour. He clicked a few buttons and cued up another video. “We have two cameras on the back.”

  He hit play. Lacey appeared in view four minutes from when she had vanished from view on the front camera. She opened the lid to the trash can against the back wall and dumped something inside. Then she leaned next to it, blending into the shadow the can cast with only the profile of her face in view. She closed her eyes a second and seemed to wait for something. Then she stepped out and walked the way she’d come. The time stamp difference between the front and back matched a leisure walk along the side of the house without stopping. So what had she done in those four minutes before?

  “Four minutes is a lot of time,” Miller said, unconvinced.

  “There aren’t any doors or windows along that side of the house,” Finn stated matter-of-factly.

  “None?” Hastings asked.

  “Not on the lower level. But his room is on the opposite side of the house.”

  Hastings tapped the screen. “Play the back video one more time.” Finn did as he asked. “Stop.”

  The video stopped after Lacey pushed off the wall and was in full view of the camera before she left for good.

  “Why are you stopping here?” Miller asked.

  Hastings closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he glanced at us. But then seemed to make up his mind. It was like he and the other officer were the only two in the room.

  “Cut him loose,” he said.

  “What? That doesn’t prove shit. They could have photoshopped that or whatever kids do these days.”

  “True, but look at her.”

  Miller glanced down with invisible curls of steam coming out of his ears. “So?”

  Hastings then proved to us why he seemed to be in charge over the older, more experienced looking detective.

  “So, based on the complaint, she arrived, went into the house, and was assaulted which resulted in torn clothing and bruises. Right there,” he pointed at the screen, “nothing of what was described is visible, and she left after that.”

  “It could have happened somewhere else.”

  I wanted to punch Miller, and my brothers must have felt the same. August began to protest Miller’s idiocy, interrupting what felt like a private conversation between the detectives. Hastings held up a hand.

  Hastings looked directly into Miller’s eyes, “It could have, but we have to off the complaint. Based on this, he didn’t commit the crime—”

  “That’s not absolute proof,” Miller raged.

  “He didn’t commit the crime as described to us. Cut him loose.”

  Miller trudged out of the room. His heavy footfalls were a testament to his fury.

  “So he’s clear,” August said.

  Hastings looked tired. “No.”

  “What?” I yelled.

  The poor detective made the universal sign of surrender with one palm held out and a hush fell on our group.

  “Unfortunately, the Fosters hold a lot of influence in this county.” He hadn’t said town, implying their reach extended beyond the school grounds.

  Finn spoke up. “That shouldn’t be a factor in jailing an innocent man.”

  I placed my hands on the table for stability as I aimed a hateful gaze at the young detective.

  “You’re going to keep at him because some rich girl isn’t used to not getting what she wants.”

  He shook his head and pinched at his temples. “It’s not that. We take these complaints very seriously.”

  “As you should,” Finn said.

  “I’m in the business of facts and putting a guilty person behind bars, not an innocent one. What you’ve shown me disputes the facts as we have them. I would like a copy for our forensic team to analyze.”

  “Not a problem,” Finn answered.

  Pissed didn’t cover how I felt. I shifted my hair off my shoulder, twisting it some before pushing it back. “Have you even considered that she waited until today to make a case against him so that your officers would show up to arrest him in front of the team?”

  He nodded. “Actually she was brought in by a friend early Saturday morning. I shouldn’t be telling you this, but she didn’t want to name the individual. Her parents had said they would talk to her, and we got a call this morning. Besides, he wasn�
�t under arrest.”

  I gaped. “So why the handcuffs?”

  He exhaled. “The officer said he made threats.”

  “Seriously?” I couldn’t pick up my jaw from the floor fast enough. “He only spoke to them after your asshole cop pushed me, and that was after they said he was under arrest and handcuffed him.”

  Hastings rubbed at his eyes. “I’ll look into it.”

  “In other words, you guys are bought and paid for by the Fosters. Tell me how much a donation my father needs to make to get you on our side,” August spat.

  I wasn’t exactly sure Daddy would donate on behalf of Shepard or any other one of us, but I appreciated my brother driving that point home.

  “I haven’t been bought by anyone. Your friend will get a fair shot from me. I promise. Now go wait for him out there.” He headed for the other door. “I should check to make sure Miller let him go.”

  “You should,” I snapped, but the door closed, and Hastings was gone from view.

  Cooper moved the chairs again, and August held open the door we entered so we could exit.

  The main area wasn’t large, and Shepard wasn’t there. I didn’t go to the waiting room but held back by one of the empty desks, waiting for Shepard to come though the only other door in view.

  23

  finley

  When Shepard was finally ushered through the door, I flung myself in his arms.

  “You’re okay,” I whispered, feeling tears prick at the back of my eyes.

  I knew even more than my brothers how the idea of ever going to jail was a death sentence in Shepard’s mind. We had a few candid moments after everything went down with his father where he’d spoken openly about his fear of being associated with anything his dad had done.

  “I’m happy to see you,” he murmured.

  Then I realized I’d hung on a little too long and stepped back, bowing my head some, unable to meet Shepard’s eyes. August moved in and bro hugged him, one hand between them while the other clapped his back. Cooper was next before Finn waved us out.

  “You guys should go to class. I hate that you missed the first day because of me,” Shepard said.

  August gave him an incredulous look. “No way, bro. We stick together. We’re family.”

  Cooper nodded, and I was grateful when no one turned in my direction. I loved Shepard, but not how I did my brothers.

  “I have a class later I have to teach. Who’s riding with me?”

  Finn’s family was rich, way more than my family. His car was designed for use with his disability, and I wouldn’t doubt he’d have a car that drove itself.

  “You guys go ahead. I’m going to skip class today and head home,” Shepard said.

  “Me too.” When my brothers looked at me, I shrugged. “There’s some new reporter stalking me. Besides, I have the car and can take Shep home.”

  “I can skip too,” August offered. “If you want some company.”

  Shepard shook his head. “Go ahead. I’ll see you guys later.”

  Cooper said, “Finley, don’t forget Coach said you had to be at afternoon practice.”

  I nodded. Finn then gave us instructions on how to use the garage in the back of the house if a TV crew was there waiting on us.

  “Where will you park?” I asked.

  “I won’t be back before you leave in the afternoon,” he said.

  Then they were gone, and Shepard and I hustled to my car. I had a feeling if the TV crew wasn’t at our place, they would be on their way back to the police station.

  As I drove down our street, I spotted the news van.

  “They work quickly,” I muttered.

  “That’s what they do,” Shepard said.

  Then again, he would know. There had been a media circus surrounding his family when the news had broken about his dad’s arrest.

  We drove down the narrow alley, and it was clear it would be a tight squeeze for the TV truck. Shepard got out and opened the garage with a code. I pulled in and found the two spaces empty. It gave enough room for Finn to use a ramp to get into his van.

  We locked up and entered the backyard. I found myself looking up for the cameras based on what we saw.

  “Those cameras saved my life,” Shepard said.

  “You’ve seen the footage?” We stopped short of the backdoor.

  “No.”

  Of course he hadn’t. They hadn’t taken the tablet from Finn.

  “Miller, one of the detectives—” I nodded, letting him know I knew who that was. “—he made a point of telling me that I wasn’t off the hook. Once they prove the video was faked, he’ll be back to arrest me.”

  I reached up to cup his face as I stared into his blue eyes. He caught my hand and glanced at the camera again.

  “We should get inside before that reporter decides to nose around.”

  I agreed and used my keys to enter the house. We didn’t stop on the lower level. The front picture window was wide open, luckily, no one was peeking inside yet. They were probably searching the street for our point of entrance.

  We hurried up the stairs, and before Shepard could slip into his room, I said, “I never doubted for one moment you weren’t innocent.”

  His hand dropped from the knob, but the door having been released swung open.

  “Thank you.”

  I started to turn and stopped. I thought about how Lacey’s claim had so easily taken Shepard away. And if Finn didn’t have that footage, how long might it have been before I could talk to him again. There was something I needed to know.

  “Shep,” I faced him again and watched as he did a slow turn.

  “Yes.”

  His voice was barely above a whisper. Was that fear I heard coating his tone?

  “There is just one thing,” I said.

  He lifted a hand as if reaching for me, but it stopped. “I’m sorry about Friday night.”

  Slowly, I let my head shift side to side. “Who is Cricket?”

  His head dropped, and he took several deep breaths before pivoting and moving to sit on his bed, hands clasped in front of him.

  It seemed like miles between us, and I thought about running. Would the truth hurt or set me free? I closed the distance, stepping just inside his door.

  “You don’t have to tell me, but is she a real person?”

  He nodded, but he didn’t meet my gaze.

  “But the gold and fire doesn’t describe Lacey?” I asked. He shook his head. “Tori?”

  His head jerked up, and I saw the confusion on his face. “No, not Tori either.”

  Though it may not have been the best time, I wanted to demand he tell me so I could give up my illusions that his “I love you” had been real. I was afraid if I didn’t ask now, I might not ever have the courage to.

  “I wasn’t describing the color of her eyes in the song, but rather what I saw in her soul.”

  My breath caught at the poetic nature of his words.

  “She’s like gold to me, precious and valuable. More, she has a heart of gold, and it creates a fire within me every time I look at her.”

  If possible, all oxygen had fled my lungs.

  “Who is she?” I asked.

  I hated asking again after telling him he didn’t have to confess it. But the words were off my tongue before I could quiet them.

  That was when I spotted the flames in his eyes. They were hungry and ready to consume me.

  “You.” That one word came out a mere whisper.

  “Me?”

  Though I’d asked the question, my brain was already on autopilot. I closed his door and fed the flames by eliminating the distance between us.

  “I wasn’t lying when I said I loved you the other night.”

  I’d waited for that moment for so long, I didn’t waste time. I crawled on his lap and straddled him. He didn’t stop me. “Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

  Our noses touched when his fore
head connected with mine. I sank like the Titanic into the blues of his eyes, utterly lost in their depths. He wound his strong arms tightly around me, and it felt so completely right.

  “I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same,” he said.

  The last thing I said before crushing my lips to his was, “You stupid boy. It’s only been you and only you, always.”

  Shep may not have been my first kiss. But as his soft lips urged mine a little wider so he could introduce his tongue to mine, I wanted him to be my last.

  A whistle of air escaped me as his fingertips found the hem of my shirt and brushed against my bare skin. My palms found the sliver of space between us and slid up to his shoulders as he unleashed the hunger within me.

  “Shit,” he hissed as we took a breath.

  I combed my fingers over his scalp and grabbed onto a fistful of his thick mane of hair.

  “More,” I said and leaned forward until he fell back on the bed.

  A need so consuming overwhelmed me when his hands finally traveled north, creating a heat that burned every inch of my back. His hand skimmed up and stopped at the base of my sports bra.

  There was an unspoken question that halted our frantic desire for one another. Reluctantly, I pulled back to sit up. I crossed my hands to grab the bottom of my shirt, prepared to remove it until he stopped me.

  “Wait.”

  All my boldness dissolved in the hesitant way he spoke. Self-consciousness, or the lack thereof, filled the silence created by his one word.

  I let my hands fall away and moved to unstraddle him.

  “No, it’s not that,” he said, stilling me with a firm grip to my hips. “I want you.”

  “I want this too,” I admitted.

  His gaze never wavered from mine. “I don’t want our first time together to be on a day like this.”

  I understood where he was coming from, but I had a different view.

  “I see it as a way to create a different memory than the ugly one she tried to make.”

  I bent forward and took his mouth, slowly caressing my tongue across his. I ground my hips, connecting with the evidence of his attraction to me.

  When his hands tightened on my waist, I got my nerve back. I sat up again and whipped my shirt over my head. Because I’d been dressed for practice, my sports bra wasn’t exactly the sexiest thing I could be wearing.