by Jill Cooper
I yelp and fight against him, my nose flat against the cold surface. “I’ll find where you hid it,” he whispers in my ear. “Stay out of my way.” His hand tightens around my head, and his other punches me in the small of my back. Stars fill my vision as the sirens grow louder in the distance. He runs off, leaving me alone, and I slip down onto my butt on the floor.
My sneakers and my knee socks are soaked with blood.
The police crash through the front door before I have time to process what’s happening. “Hands up, hands up!” The officers order, and I slowly raise my hands and stare at them.
“It’s not me. I was her friend.”
I was her friend. Everything was already shifting to past tense, and I wish it wasn’t so easy to lose people. I wish it wasn’t so easy for them to shift out of your life. In less than a blink of an eye, everything changes. Everything.
Chapter Thirty: Amber 2003
Someone has been following me.
I noticed it first when leaving Jenny’s house to go to an appointment I had downtown. A car trailing behind me. A man following me several spaces behind, but I could feel his eyes on me as I walked down the sidewalk. When I duck down an alley, he peers at it as he continues by. He’s familiar.
I know him, but I can’t place from where.
I think maybe I’ve seen him around town and at the school. It is possible someone is trying to scare me, or do they want to hurt me? It could be a police detail to keep Martin off my back, but no one has said anything and let’s face it, Martin hasn’t done anything since the news broke about my parents.
He was there. He saw the bones, and it scared him off. It’s a good thing because I was pretty sure he was going to kill me. I knew the Alistair family was crazy, but I never thought they were that crazy.
The Chetwoods, Sinclairs, and Alistairs run this town. Now I feel like two-thirds of them are trying to run me out of town.
I continue on my way and stop at the newspaper stand, scanning the headlines. CHETWOOD ALLEGED TIES TO CRIME FAMILY REVEALED IN COURT. I don’t take the paper, but I want to. I’ve heard the rumors all my life of the generations of mafia and crime ties. Of course, I always thought, Oh, my parents wouldn’t do that. Now I’m not sure where they draw the line. If they bother to even draw it at all.
Phone calls start, and some threatening emails after that. Jenny’s father believes someone wants to scare me, but I think it might go above all that. It’s more than just a prank. I think someone wants to hurt me, whether it’s Martin, Penelope, or some psycho I’ve never met.
I take my case to the police and sit behind a desk, waiting for my statement to be taken. My backpack sits on my lap, and I play with the strap. While I wait for the officer to come to talk to me, I get a text message from Jackson. He says he wants to apologize and wants to see me. I’m tired of giving him second chances, but I miss him. My heart isn’t ready to quit him yet. I doubt it ever really will be.
I respond that I’ll meet him tonight at the pool house on his property. We pick a time that’s late enough that Penelope won’t notice—at least I hope so. I’m starting to think she just knows things, like when we’re sneaking around behind her back.
Jackson responds with an I love you.
I tell him that I love him, too. More than he can possibly ever know.
The police officer sits down, and I feel relief that it’s Carl. I like his relaxed nature and the way he cracks a joke or two when we talk. It makes everything seem a lot less serious than it actually is.
“Someone’s been tailing me on the streets. And someone is following me close behind sometimes. Plus, I’m getting phone calls and emails.”
Carl shakes his head with a sigh. “Psychos. You’ve been in the news. I’m sure it’ll blow over soon.”
“I wrote down their license plate number.” I slide a piece of paper across the table.
Carl picks it up and raises his eyebrows, leaning back in his seat. “I guess you’re serious about this.”
“Pretty serious when you think your life might be in danger.”
He’s solemn and folds his hands. “They’re calling your cell phone?”
I nod. “And sending emails.”
He sighs and rubs his face. “All right. We’ll pull the phone records and see what we can get. We can warn whoever off.”
“Will I be able to get a restraining order?”
Carl shrugs. “Maybe. If it’s necessary. But in these cases, I bet it’s not. Just some freak who listens to the news and gets ideas put into his crazy head. If you want to file a police report, you can.”
“I do.” I made a mistake by not filing what happened between Martin and me. I’m not going to do that again.
“All right.” Carl looks reluctant as he pushes his chair back. “Let me get everything we need.”
Jenny’s parents are nice but conservative. With everything going on, they don’t want me to go out late. They keep a close eye on me, so unfortunately, I have to sneak out. “I don’t like this,” Jenny says but slides her window open anyway.
I slide out and step up to her tree. I’m in a comfortable pair of jeans and a loose fit button shirt with a jean jacket on top. “I’ll be all right. And I’ll be back soon. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“If you get caught, they’ll kill me. You’re lucky they’re early risers.”
Early to bed, early to rise. I count myself lucky.
I take a cab over to the Sinclair mansion. The gate is partially opened, thanks to Jackson. It’s what we used to do when we’d want to meet. I walk up to the fork in the road. Up ahead leads to the house, and most of the lights are still on. The amber glow from the windows appears warm and welcoming, but I know that’s not really how things are. Penelope leads with an iron fist.
I go left, and it leads me through a grove of trees. The pool house isn’t far as I pass the tennis courts, and I can see the pool down the hill. I follow the path and walk along the edge of the pool until I get to my destination. I push open the French doors and turn on the lamp by the door.
I stop to sit on the aqua sofa but hear a creak coming from the bedroom. Jackson stands in the entryway with an expectant look on his face.
“Jackson, I didn’t see you there.”
“I saw you. I couldn’t speak. You’re so beautiful. I’ve missed you so much.” He rushes toward me and takes my face in his hand. “Please forgive me, Amber. You’re right about my mother. About so much. I want out of this place. Out of this family. I just don’t know how to do it.”
“Maybe we can do it together,” I whisper.
“How?”
“I don’t know,” I admit with a shrug. “Move away after high school. Start over somewhere. We’ll just pack your car and go. Take out as much money as we can and get jobs. It might be hard, but we can be happy. I know we can.”
Jackson kisses me, and I cling to him. “I’ll start withdrawing money from my account. We can hide the money away. Get out of here as soon as we can. But no one can find out. If my mother were to find out—I think there’s something she’s keeping from me. I’m starting not to trust her.”
Just starting to? Well, I guess it’s better late than never.
“You can’t tell anyone.” I rub Jackson’s collar through my fingers. “Promise me. Not your friends, teachers, no one.”
Jackson shakes his head. “I won’t. I promise.”
“Someone’s been following me. I’m afraid something else is going on. Someone’s been calling and hanging up every day. Dozens of times. I went to the police, and they’re looking into it, but I’m scared, Jackson. I’m so scared.”
He holds me close, and I bury my face into his shoulder. He strokes my hair, and I breathe in his scent deeply, feeling calm in his arms again. “I’ll protect you, and I’ll get us both out of here.”
I squeeze him tight and keep my eyes shut. “There’s something else I need to tell you.” I’m ready to tell him my big secret. I just hope he’s ready to hear it.
&n
bsp; Jackson’s asleep in the bed when I pull back the covers and slip my jeans back on. I leave a note by the bedside table and plant a kiss on his cheek. After all the drama of the last month, I feel hopeful that things are going to be okay. The future isn’t as bad as I thought. There is hope that I can pull myself together and do what I need to do.
I button my shirt before slipping my jacket on and head back out through the pool house. There’s a shadow blocking the door. My heart is in my throat as I make out her tight bun and long black dress. There’s no denying who it is as I slink closer.
Penelope turns the light on and studies my face, her eyes adjusting quickly to the new light. “Sleeping with my son right on my own property? What a disrespectful little shrew you are.”
“You don’t control everything, and you don’t control me.”
I storm past, and she grabs my wrist. She sneers, her teeth gritted. “Don’t be so sure.” She pushes my arm away. “Our little talk, have you forgotten?”
“No. You wouldn’t do anything that hurts your son.”
She huffs and gazes at me up and down. “A little harpy like you? He’ll forget you in a second. There are proper young ladies up and down the coast who would love to take your place. All more beautiful and refined than you are.” She slams the door in my face, and I watch helplessly through the glass as she walks toward the bedroom.
Jackson wants to run away with me, but I’m starting to think… I’m starting to think that she’ll never let him go.
We’ll never really be safe with her in our lives. I rest my hand on my stomach for a split second, and I get the hell out of there.
I need a new plan.
Chapter Thirty-One
Jessica: September 11th, 2020
Maxx’s dead body is placed inside a body bag. They move me so I won’t see, but I can hear the commotion and the sound of the zipper. I’m given a blanket to wrap myself in and taken outside. I sit on the stone wall, and my hands shake as I sip a room temperature cup of water.
One thing is for certain; I didn’t kill Maxx, but I’m the reason she’s dead. She had just gotten into Amber’s cell phone, and then she was attacked. It couldn’t have been a coincidence. Someone must’ve been keeping an eye on us. I’m sorry I asked her to help me, and I’m sorry she’s dead, but I have to find the phone.
Based on what the killer said, he hadn’t found it. Maxx hid it somewhere, and I have to find it before anyone else does. The police might bury it to keep the town’s dirty secret, which means I have to stay ahead of them, somehow.
They call my mom as I recall my story to them more than once. “You’ll need to come down to the station in the morning and make this formal,” the female officer says. “But I am sorry about your friend.” She’s solemn and presses her lips together in a sad smile.
She moves away. Off in the distance, I hear a car door slam and my name. I glance up and see my mom running toward me, and a fresh wave of tears wells up in my eyes. “Mom,” I call out and stand up—just in time to get slammed by one of her hugs.
But it feels good. It feels nice. I have no desire to move from her embrace. Instead, I settle into it and breathe deeply against her shoulder.
“Thank God,” Mom whispers and strokes my head. She begins to sway as we hold one another, and I sway with her. It’s like being little again, hugging in our kitchen while we make cookies and wait for Dad to come home.
A fresh course of pain hits me, and I cling to her even tighter. “I saw…” I don’t finish what I was going to say.
“I know, honey. I know.”
My face stays buried in the collar of her jacket when Mom asks someone, “Can I take her home?”
“Yes, Mrs. Chase. But bring her by the station in the morning.” It’s not a question, but the officer’s voice is soft and understanding. At least I have that much to be thankful for.
Mom takes me by the arm, and I take a moment to take the blanket off and hand it to one of the officers. “Has… Have Maxx’s parents been told?”
He stares at me like he’s not going to answer but then blinks. “Officers went to their offices to tell them. It’ll be any moment now. Until tomorrow, don’t talk to your friends. Don’t do anything.”
“Yes, sir,” I whisper.
“Jess? Are you coming?”
“Sure, Mom.” I feel listless, as if I’m about to float out of my body. I stare up at Maxx’s home. Her parents are going to be destroyed. Devastated. And all of that is my fault. I want to do something. I want to say something to them, but there’s nothing I could ever do. I thought what I was doing was just a bit of fun, didn’t I? But it got Maxx killed. It was serious, and it’s time to take the kid gloves off.
An officer exits through the front door. “I found something shoved in the laundry shoot. Luckily it hadn’t gone all the way down. It got wedged along the side.”
And in his hand is a plastic evidence bag with the very phone I came to talk about resting inside. And not only that, I’m sure it’s the phone the killer wanted, too.
“We’ll get that to evidence.” When the officers notice me standing there and listening, they block my view by turning their backs to me.
“Jess, honey,” Mom’s voice strains with patience and nerves as she tugs on my arm. “Let them do their job, okay? It’s time for us to get out of here. We’ll try to have some dinner and put what’s happened out of our minds, okay?”
“Okay.” I follow her to the car and know it’s not possible for me to rest or sleep until I get my hands on that phone.
I guess I have a real good reason to break into the police station’s evidence room after all.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Upstairs in my, room I take off my school uniform in the bathroom and change into an oversized sweatshirt and black leggings. Mom takes my stockings and skirt from me and places them inside a bag. “I’ll take care of these. The school is getting us a new uniform, but you take as much time off as you want. Mr. Davis insisted.”
I step out of the bathroom and cross my arms. “When did you have time to call him or the school?” I snap, way more than I mean to.
“When you came upstairs.” She blinks her large almond-shaped eyes. “Don’t you trust me, Jess?”
“Sorry.” I frown. “I’m just…out of sorts.”
She lets out a long breath. “Of course you are. I’ll reheat last night’s leftovers. Come down when you’re ready.” On the way out, she gives me a brief, sad smile.
I collapse onto my bed. I don’t know how to process what’s happened.
My only friend is dead. While I had let myself feel the shock of her death, I hadn’t felt yet how alone this made me. She was the only friend I had at school. We had clicked right away, and now I was left with no one.
Leave it to me to make Maxx’s death all about me. I’m such a horrible human being.
A sob mounts in the center of my chest, and it hurts so bad, I can’t let it go. It won’t come up, and the pain, the guilt, all of it consumes me. Without even thinking about it, I get up and go back into the bathroom. I find my razor blade hiding in a drawer with my toothpaste and my toothbrush. Rolling up my sleeve, it’s barely a passing disappointment before I slide that blade into the soft skin of my underarm.
It goes in like butter, and the physical pain is warm, comforting, and it mutes all of the emotional pain welling in my heart. I let a relieved breath go as the blood trickles from the cut and runs down my arm. The guilt and regret spills over on me, and I silently cry, letting the teardrops roll down my face and off my cheeks.
The sweet release I’m looking for isn’t there. Instead, I only feel worse and wish my dad was here. I wish I could call him, and he’d actually answer the phone.
I’m alone, and my mind goes back to the letters inside of my purse. But I need to pull myself together. Tonight, I have a mission—something important to do. And being as I had never snuck into a police station before, I don’t want what is in those letters to distract me. So, I
take them out of my purse and stuff them under my mattress.
Hopefully, they’ll be safe enough.
My phone buzzes, and it’s a text message from Winnie. I forgot I was supposed to meet at her place.
What happened? We have a report to do.
I’m sorry, I reply. There was an emergency at Maxx’s place.
There’s a long delay before she responds. Is she all right?
I don’t know if I’m supposed to talk about it yet, but I can’t stop myself. She’s dead.
Winnie responds with a flurry of questions, and I tell her I’ll answer them tomorrow. I don’t have the strength, or the heart, to do it tonight.
I head down the stairs, and the aroma of last night’s chicken casserole clings to the air. The microwave beeps as I push past the swinging door. Mom’s on the phone and throws me a glance. “I will. Talk to you soon.” She quickly hangs up.
I throw her a look as I pull forks out of the drawer. “You didn’t have to hang up.”
Mom shakes her head and dries her hands off on her jeans. “Just my boss. Told him I’ll be in late tomorrow. If I come in at all.”
Martin Alistair. I shiver at the thought of him and his son.
“I’ll be fine. Please don’t hang out here on my account. I can take care of myself for a few hours. I can catch up on laundry. Watch The Price is Right…” I certainly can’t sneak around solving not one, but two murders, if my mom’s underfoot.
Mom scowls in a way that says she’s going to do what she wants to do. I’m going to need to accept that. “Don’t make jokes. This is serious. And if you were in the house with the murderer, I don’t want to leave you alone. You can understand that, can’t you?”
“It’ll be all right. I’m not going anywhere.”
Mom sighs. “All right. Well, we’ll see what happens in the morning. That’s the most I can promise you.”
I nod. “Sure.” It seems the best I’ll get, so I let the subject drop. I pour us some lemonade and take it into the living room while Mom carries two plates of food. We settle at the table, and she tabs through the TV programming guide. I pull an afghan on my lap and settle back.