by Gregg Olsen
“A secret boyfriend,” Annie said.
“Yeah, secret until I guess she realized that I cared about her.”
“So you went over there that night …”
chapter 46
TEAGAN LARSEN PUT ON HIS COAT, gloves, and stocking cap (which in his mind was spelled stalking cap). He stashed the pregnancy wand inside his pocket, a little grossed out that his sister had actually peed on it, and said good-bye to his mom. Apparently enthralled by Jake, who was poking the log in the fire, she didn’t seem to care that her son was going out in the darkness on Christmas night.
Teagan told himself repeatedly that Katelyn would revel in the idea that Starla was pregnant, or thought she was, and when he’d pretend that he was the one who had been messaging her, well, he was sure Katelyn would forgive him. She’d see him as more than the boy next door. She’d see him as a true friend, and maybe, he hoped, as something more.
The only cars in the alleyway were Harper’s and Sandra’s; the grandparents had come and gone. A dog barked from the woods, and Teagan could hear one of the neighbors from across the road calling a cat.
“Here, kitty, kitty,” the woman’s voice said in a voice that easily carried over the cold Port Gamble night.
Maybe some coyote found your stupid cat, Teagan thought.
Teagan was grateful for the gloves as he climbed hand over hand up the trellis, hoping that the ancient wood structure would still support his wiry frame. He wasn’t afraid of heights, but he was afraid of falling, making a lot of noise, and looking like an idiot.
He hoisted himself up and worked his way over to Katelyn’s window, the only one of several on the second floor emitting any light. It was ajar. He pushed it, and in a second, was inside.
Her room. Katelyn’s beautiful, almost magical room. He’d never been in there before—except in his imagination when he pictured her typing answers to his IMs and chat messages. That was a fantasy. That was a dream. This was all very, very real. It smelled like Katelyn—pretty, light, sweet. Not like his sister’s room, which always smelled like burning incense.
Her spiritual side, he thought. What a joke!
Not Katelyn. She was spiritual. Like a lot of people who’d suffered great hurt, she never forgot how that felt. She could understand the pain of others because she’d been there herself. She was a fighter, and everything she had was because she was able to dig herself out of it. Starla thought she was on the rise, but Teagan was sure that it was Katelyn who was the true star.
And he was in her bedroom. Her wonderful, freaking awesome, amazing bedroom.
He could hear the water running in the bathroom, and he followed the sound. Each step closer, closer. He wasn’t sure that he was ready to see her naked, but he was positive that must have been something she had wanted.
Why else would she have let him come over?
The faucet stopped and the sound of her in the water beckoned.
Before opening the half-closed door, he drew in a breath. Katelyn smelled of jasmine bath salts and scented candles. It was the scent of a young woman. Not like his sister. Not like his mother.
A sweet, young woman. A woman who wanted him there. Invited him there.
He pushed the door open. And just like that, the fantasy was over.
“Teagan!” a stunned-beyond-measure Katelyn called out. “What are you doing here?”
She moved her arms to hide her breasts and sunk lower into the water, trying desperately to cover herself. Her long dark hair, which had been clipped up out of the water, became unfurled and soaked as she swiveled around.
Teagan started to shake. “You asked me to come over,” he said. “That last message was from me.”
Katelyn was angry and embarrassed—and the punk kid next door was frozen in fear.
“No, I didn’t! Teagan, get out of my bathroom! You little creep!”
What? Teagan couldn’t quite grasp what Katelyn was saying. It was at odds with how he felt about her—and how he was sure she felt about him.
“I brought you Starla’s pregnancy test. She thought Cameron knocked her up. We can report her to the school or something.”
He held out the test wand to prove what he was saying.
But Katelyn didn’t seem to care.
“Do you want me to scream?” she asked. “Get out of my bathroom!”
Teagan became frantic. This wasn’t how he thought it would be.
“I love you, Katelyn,” he said.
She turned in the tub, sending some water to the floor.
“You are seriously f-ed up, Teagan. You need help. I get that. But get the hell out of here!”
Teagan was embarrassed, confused, ashamed. All of his emotions were in a Magic Bullet and were spinning around and around. He moved forward, closer to the tub. He’d wanted to tell her he was sorry. He wasn’t going to touch her.
“Get out!” This time she was loud. Not loud enough to wake up the neighborhood, but loud enough to get him into trouble.
He was going to be in trouble. His sister was going to make fun of him. He was going to get yelled at by his mom. Jake was going to hit him again.
And yet he stood frozen, unable to move.
“IT HAPPENED SO FAST,” TEAGAN SAID to Chief Garnett. “It was so, so fast, but at the time, it happened in slow motion. Really.”
The chief’s office was pin-drop quiet.
Annie looked over at Mindee and Starla, their grim faces easily betraying their own shame and guilt over what had occurred. A lot of what the boy said was true. In fact, all of it. But what he had to tell them next was the most important part of the story—the part that would keep him out of juvenile detention in Port Orchard … or wouldn’t.
Teagan had started to tear up some more, which Annie considered a good sign. Whatever happened in that bathroom in the house next door, it had not occurred without a heaping measure of regret and hurt. Teagan might have been a bit desperate and a pervert-in-training to climb up that trellis to Katelyn’s bedroom, but he likely wasn’t as bad as the kid who sets fire to the family dog or the one who trolled the neighborhood for an open window to get a peek at a girl undressing.
“Okay,” the boy said. “I just stood there a second, not really knowing what to do. I thought she wanted me there. I really did. She was so mad at me.”
KATELYN WAS COMPLETELY PISSED OFF. “Get out of here, Teagan!”
“But, I thought …” Teagan tried to find the words that would turn all of that moment into something better. Something he’d imagined.
“You thought wrong!”
Seeing that he wasn’t going, Katelyn fumbled for the towel on the vanity adjacent to the bathtub. Once she got a hold of it, she jerked it toward herself. In that terrible moment, the towel caught the electrical cord on the espresso machine. In a second, but again, seemingly in slow motion, the machine cartwheeled into the bathtub.
Although she saw it coming, Katelyn didn’t have time to scream.
In those hideous split seconds, the water hissed and Katelyn jerked in the bath like a fish on a line fighting that brief battle for its life. And then the lights went out.
“Katie?” Teagan called out.
No answer.
“Katie?” he tried again.
He bent down, embarrassed to get so close to the naked girl next door but needing to know what he could do to help her. Her eyes were open, staring at him in the ultimate staring game, one that he knew for sure he couldn’t win.
“SHE HAD SOAP ON HER FACE and in her eyes. I turned on the water and tried to rinse it off, thinking … I don’t know … thinking that maybe she’d be all right. But I kind of knew that she wouldn’t be.”
“Then what did you do?” Annie asked.
Teagan looked over at his mother and sister, then back at the police chief. He was shaking then, no longer a grown-up wannabe, but a kid who’d have done anything right then to turn back time for a do-over.
But with Katelyn Berkley’s death, there was no do-over.
/> “I heard her mother calling up the stairs, and I got out of there as fast as I could. I swear I didn’t mean for anything bad to happen. I just wanted a girlfriend.”
“I’m really proud of you, Teagan,” Annie said, meaning every word. “I know that telling me all of this was really hard to do, but you got through it. You did a good job in being truthful. That’s something that’s been in short supply around Port Gamble these days.”
She looked at Mindee and Starla. It was a long, searing look and the message was easily understood.
“Teagan’s not going to be arrested, right?” Mindee asked.
“If his story’s true, not likely,” Annie said. “He’s not, but you might be.”
Mindee’s jaw dropped. “Me? What did I do?”
“You and your game,” Annie said with obvious disdain, “lit the fuse here. You might not have meant for any of this to happen, but your online taunting of Katelyn Berkley instigated her death. Plain and simple. It’ll be up to the county prosecutor to decide what kind of blame, if any, to lay at your feet, Mindee.”
chapter 47
FOR A HALF HOUR, THE GIRLS WHISPER-ARGUED through the outlet about the Larsens, their dad’s e-mail from Savannah, and whether or not to ask Colton for help. Taylor knew that something serious was up, but she deplored the idea of calling him into the scenario. They could take care of things on their own. They’d done it before. And they could do it again.
“I never figured you’d ever go damsel-in-distress on me,” she finally said in a little dig that felt good.
“It isn’t about going to him because he’s a guy,” Hayley said.
“Your Prince Charming. Ugh! Your boyfriend. Whatever.”
Hayley tried to let it bounce off. “Look, we can argue about it, but the bottom line is that we need help. He’s got a learner’s permit, and we don’t. Plus his mom’s car is sitting right there. Do you have a better plan? Because we need it now.”
Taylor didn’t, so Hayley texted Colton.
EMERGENCY!
A breathless Colton hurried down the hall and through the kitchen to meet the girls at the back door. He was wearing a ratty Kingston High T-shirt and slightly shrunken, highwater sweat pants—pajamas that he’d just as soon not have Hayley see. His mom asleep, the house was still quiet.
Taylor had been crying.
“What’s the matter?” he asked as he let them both inside.
“We don’t really know,” Hayley said. “Something’s going on.”
He shut the door and led them to the living room, motioning them to be quiet since his mother was sleeping.
“Is it about Hedda?” he asked.
“No,” Hayley said, looking at her sister.
“Jake?” Colton’s black eyes were awash with worry. “He’s still in jail.”
“We’re not sure, but that’s not why we’re here. That reporter Moira is causing all sorts of problems. She’s working on a story about the crash … about some things related to the crash.”
“About us,” Taylor said.
It was coming too fast at Colton. “What about you?” he asked.
The girls had agreed in advance that they could trust Colton, but it still was too big, too scary to share. Long ago, they both decided it would be better if no one knew. Ever.
“Some gifts should be shared but the source never revealed,” their grandmother had once said.
“Like giving a ham or something to a poor family?” Taylor asked.
“Like that. Sort of. Shared, but never revealed.”
As the three teens conferred in the living room, Shania came down the stairs in her pretty, pale-blue bathrobe, the color of a robin’s egg.
“It’s very late,” she said, in a way that was more comforting than confrontational. “Is there something I need to know about?”
She looked at Hayley, Taylor, and finally at her son. It was clear, by the way in which she wore her emotions on the surface, Taylor would be the one to speak.
Her tears started up again. “Mrs. James, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that we came over.”
“You girls are like family. You’re always welcome here.”
She pulled them in the direction of the couch and sat them down. Colton remained standing.
“Mrs. James, this has something to do with the crash,” Taylor said, talking as fast as she could. “Some reporter is writing about it, and she’s talked to someone who is upset about what she told her.”
Shania told Taylor to slow down.
“Take a breath,” she said, confused about where the conversation was going. “Tell me more.”
Hayley took over, telling Colton’s mother about how Katelyn’s death and the ten-year anniversary had inspired Moira Windsor to do some kind of an update.
Shania nodded. “I’d been thinking about the anniversary. I do every year as spring approaches.”
“My mom does too,” Taylor said, back in the conversation.
Of course she does, Shania thought. She almost lost you both. More than once, in fact.
“A researcher evaluated us when we were little, and the reporter is going to put it in the story. Medical stuff about us. Private things.”
Hayley didn’t mention that the researcher had done the study prior to the crash, and she was grateful that neither Colton nor Shania asked about it.
“What does your father say? Your mother?”
“They want us to leave it alone. But I know they are worried too.”
This time, Colton spoke up. “She sees this as her big story. She won’t listen to reason.”
“She’s been Facebook-stalking us,” Hayley said.
“Mrs. James, we need to get out of here tonight. We need to get to the researcher’s place and see what she’s talking about. We don’t want to read about ourselves in the paper,” Taylor said.
“Colton’s dad will be home tomorrow. He can take you.”
Hayley pushed. “We have to go now.”
Shania looked at the clock over the mantel. It was after eleven. A reporter digging into the past was no good. How far back had she gone? What did she know?
“We can’t go anywhere right now,” she said.
“Please,” Hayley said. “Please. I can’t explain it, but this is important. If information about us gets out …”
“I can drive them,” Colton said.
Shania didn’t like the idea at all. “You don’t even have your learner’s permit,” she said.
Colton cocked his head, a little sheepishly. “I do. Dad and I got it. We didn’t want you to worry. Besides, Mom, you’ve let me back the car in and out of the alley. I can drive.”
“No. Wait until tomorrow.”
“Mom, can’t you see? There’s no waiting. I’m taking them. This is about their lives, not like we’re looking for a ride to the mall to go to the movies or something.”
“He’s right, Mrs. James,” Taylor said, a little surprised that she’d gone from hating Colton’s involvement to appreciating and needing his help. “He really is. Please let him take us.”
Shania James went for her keys.
“I knew you’d understand,” Hayley said.
“No,” she said. “Colton’s not driving. I’ll take you. Your parents will kill me if Colton drove. They’ll only give me the cold shoulder if I do. I can live with that.”
“But, Mom, you don’t drive anymore.”
“It’s like riding a bike,” Shania said. “I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it. But you’d better buckle up, everyone. No promises how smooth it will be.”
She started up the stairs.
“I thought you were going to drive us?” Colton said, calling up after her.
“I am, but there’s a good chance I’ll get pulled over, and if I do I’ll be damned if I’m going to be wearing this robe—favorite or not. You should get dressed too.”
Taylor turned to Colton, her eyes wide.
“When was the last time your mom got behind the wheel?”
“She
hasn’t driven since, you know …”
“Why is she doing it now?”
“Don’t you know?”
Both girls shook their heads.
“Mom always said that you two were special, special in a way that some people can never understand. She would do anything for you.”
Hayley looked puzzled. “What did she mean by that?”
He shrugged and headed toward the stairs. “I’m guessing we’ll find out tonight.”
chapter 48
EVEN IN THE DARKNESS OF NIGHT, Shania James couldn’t conceal her anxiety as she led the trio of teens to the old Camry parked in the alley behind the house. Her legs looked like wobbly sticks, ready to snap with each step. Aside from the Christmas trip during which she was blindfolded and heavily medicated, Shania hadn’t been out of the house for years.
The car keys that she retrieved from the kitchen’s junk drawer shook like a jingling tambourine. It had been a long time since she held those keys; a Lucite red heart dangled like it had that afternoon so many years before. She remembered looking it at, sparkling happily in the worst moment of her life: the time she plotted whether she could summon the courage to gouge the eyes out of her attacker’s face.
She looked around nervously, and her son put his hand on her shoulder.
“Mom, you don’t have to do this.”
“I can and I want to,” she said. “Give me a second. Every time I go outside, the world seems so much bigger than I remember.”
Shania took several deep breaths and steadied herself before proceeding.
She opened the driver’s door and looked down at the seat and the steering wheel.
All three wondered what it was that she felt right then. Was she thinking about that afternoon when Colton was a baby? Was she thinking about her attacker? Was she thinking about what she did to save her life? And Colton’s?