Down By The Water

by Cruise, Anna

  “So I went down there. But I couldn't find her,” I said. “Anywhere. I screamed myself crazy. Nothing. And I kept looking at the water, but she wasn't there. She was just...gone.”

  “I can't find her!” I yelled, crying as I stumbled back toward the camp site.

  My parents were by the car.

  My dad's arms were full of grocery bags. “What?”

  “Rosie! She's gone!”

  He'd stared at me for a moment.

  Jenna crawled out of the other tent, headphones on her ears, looking at us both strangely.

  “She went to get Candyland!” I yelled, still crying. “And I can't find her.”

  The bags fell from my dad's arms and he jogged toward the river.

  My mother gave me an icy stare, as if she'd known it was a mistake to leave Rosie in my care.

  I watched her, tears flooding my eyes, as she ran off in the direction my dad had gone.

  “It was the next day,” Ty said, his voice quiet. “Right? The next day when they found her?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. It was like she'd just vanished. But I think everyone knew what had happened. She liked the water. The river was close. I wasn't paying attention. It all fit together too well.” I paused, picked at another fingernail. “We found her the next morning.” I swallowed. “I found her.”

  My parents had told me to stay at the camp site—had ordered us to—but I'd ignored them. I'd made my way toward the water's edge, trying to hold out hope that my sister was somehow okay. I'd followed the river north, which made no sense. If she'd gone in, she would be south of the campground. The current would have carried her. But I didn't know that then. All I'd wanted to do was help find her.

  And I had.

  That image was still fresh in my head.

  Her wet clothes. Tangled hair. Me stumbling toward her, shrieking her name. But even as I did this, I'd known she wouldn't answer.

  Because I knew she was dead.

  I'd felt it.

  “I remember,” he said. “But I don't get it.”

  I took a deep breath and squeezed my eyes shut tight, trying to block the image from my memory. “Don't get what?”

  “Jorgenson,” he answered. “Why would he think you killed her? She wandered off and fell in the river. It's actually kind of amazing it hasn't happened more often. But even if you were supposed to be watching her, that doesn't mean you killed her.”

  I opened my eyes. Ty was watching me, a puzzled expression on his face. I focused on my nails again, clearing the dirt from one nail before moving to another. “There was a bruise,” I said softly.

  It was something I rarely mentioned, something no one but my parents knew about. I didn't know why I was sharing it with Ty. I shook my head. Who was I kidding? I knew exactly why I was telling him. Because I wanted him to believe that I had nothing to do with my sister's death or with Annie's disappearance.

  “A bruise?”

  I nodded.

  He pulled his leg underneath him. “I don't remember hearing that.”

  “Because it wasn't public knowledge. My parents and I were the only ones who knew about it,” I said. “And he couldn't prove anything.”

  “He, meaning Jorgenson?”

  “Yeah. When the report came back from the medical examiner, he drove out to our home with it. And there was a bruise. On her back.”

  Ty shook his head, still not understanding. “So? She could've hit a branch or a rock in the river.”

  “The bruise looks like a hand,” Jorgenson said, sitting on the sofa in our living room.

  My mother and father exchanged nervous looks.

  “Your daughter was the last one to see her,” he said. “I'm wondering how they got along.”

  “Like sisters,” my dad said, glancing at me.

  I was sitting cross-legged on the floor, trying to understand what Jorgenson was saying. Jenna was at a friend's house and it was just me under his watchful, accusatory glare.

  “So they fought,” Jorgenson said.

  “Of course.” My dad's voice was tight. “They're sisters. Or were. But that doesn't mean...”

  Jorgenson ignored him and looked at me. “Young lady, did your sister wander off?”

  “Yes.”

  He stared hard at me. “Tell the truth.”

  I tried not to flinch under his withering gaze. “I am.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Did you walk off with her? Were you arguing?”

  “Sheriff, I don't think...” my father said.

  “Maybe you didn't feel like playing Candyland?” Jorgenson pressed. “Maybe you got in a fight over it?”

  My eyes filled with tears. “No.”

  “So you didn't follow her to the river?” Jorgenson asked, staring at me, not blinking. “Because I saw some footprints, too.”

  “You probably saw a thousand footprints,” my dad said. “The whole campground was looking for her.”

  My mother didn't say anything, just stared at me with the same hard eyes as Jorgenson.

  “I think you got mad at her and followed her down,” Jorgenson said. “Then maybe you pushed her.”

  My vision blurred. “No.”

  “She had a cut on her head. Maybe she fell into a rock. Was knocked out. Maybe you didn't mean to push her that hard.”

  “No!”

  “Don't lie, young lady,” the sheriff said.

  “I'm not. I didn't push her.”

  “I think you did,” he said.

  My father stood. A muscle in his jaw twitched and he shoved his fists into the pockets of his jeans. “Get out.”

  “I'm investigating a possible homicide,” Jorgenson said, his eyes still on me.

  “Get out,” my father said again. “We are done talking to you. I'll put you in touch with our lawyer if you want to keep asking these ridiculous questions.”

  Jorgenson took a moment, then stood. His eyes bored into me, like if he stared at me long enough, I'd say what he wanted me to say.

  But I couldn't. Because it wasn't true.

  Ty leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. “Wow.”

  “He never pursued it,” I said. I turned on the couch so I was fully facing him again. “I don't know why. We never heard from him again. So I don't know if he was full of shit or what. But I remember the way he looked at me. He thought I'd pushed Rosie. No doubt.”

  “Probably realized it was bullshit,” Ty said.

  “I don't know,” I said, shaking my head. “But I know he thought I did it. And I knew when he showed up today that he was thinking it wasn't a coincidence that I was here and another girl went in the river.”

  “That's absurd,” Ty said, his entire face screwing up with agitation. “Like you're some sort of serial drowner or something?”

  I shook my head. I didn't know. But I knew what Jorgenson thought.

  He thought there was more to the story than what I was telling. He thought I'd gotten off easy the last time I'd been in Pelican Lake. By accident or design, he'd had to let his suspicions and accusations against me dissipate.

  I wondered if he'd let it go this time.

  NINETEEN

  The front door opened and I craned my neck, expecting to see Ty's mom or dad.

  Instead, Jenna walked in. She had showered as promised and changed into a white, tube-top dress that showed off her tan and her tits. She glanced at Ty but didn't try to smile or flirt.

  “You see him?” she asked me, her eyes flashing a mixture of hatred and concern.

  I knew immediately who she meant. Jorgenson. “Yeah.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, shaking her head. “Still a dick.”

  “I know.”

  She looked at Ty. “He wants to talk to you,” she said. “I was told to come and get you.”

  I sighed. “Told you.”

  He frowned. “Right now?”

  Jenna nodded. “Yeah. He asked me to send you down.”

  “Down where?”

  “The camp site. That guy
with the missing kid. Dave something?”

  He touched my arm, then stood. “Alright. I'll be back.”

  He walked past Jenna and disappeared out the front door.

  Jenna took his place on the couch. “You alright?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You sure?”

  I closed my eyes briefly. “No.”

  “What did he say to you?”

  “He's been great,” I said, my voice softening. “Really nice.”

  “Not Ty,” she snapped. “The asshole octogenarian out there.”

  I shook my head. “Oh. Nothing you wouldn't expect.”

  “Dick.”

  “Yep.”

  “He was asking why you were here,” she said. She lifted her thumb nail to her lips. “I heard the sirens. I'd just gotten out of the shower. I wandered down the main road, trying to figure out what was going on. Some woman said a kid was missing or something, but that everything was okay. He stopped me on my way back to the house. Had a shitload of questions. All about you. How long you'd been here, where you were going to school, shit about your car. Everything.”

  I grabbed the pillow behind me and laid it in my lap. “I'm not surprised.”

  “Well, I'm pretty sure he knows I think he's a dick.”

  “How?”

  She grinned at me. “I said 'You're a dick.'”

  Despite the drama and the direness of the situation, I laughed. “Even he's smart enough to decipher that.”

  Jenna shook her head, disgusted. “Just ridiculous. And the girl is okay. They found her. I mean, you found her. And she's fine. Not sure why this is such a big, goddamn deal.”

  I knew why. Because it was too similar to what had happened to Rosie. Maybe most people thought it was a simple accident but I knew Jorgenson was thinking it was more. Hell, if I'd been him, I probably would've thought the same thing.

  “You need to get your car fixed and get the hell out of this place,” Jenna told me.

  I felt her eyes on me. “I know.”

  “But what?” she demanded.

  “But what, what?”

  “I don't think you're ready to leave,” she said.

  I'd just had to relive the worst day of my entire life. A new set of characters but identical circumstances. And, thankfully, a different outcome. “Why would you say that?”

  “Just the way you said it,” she answered. She gathered her hair to one side and played with it as she spoke. “Why wouldn't you want to leave?”

  “Of course I want to leave,” I told her.

  “You don't sound very convincing.”

  I didn't say anything.

  “Is it Ty?” she asked.

  “No.” But my response was too quick and she knew it.

  “Okay.” A knowing smile tugged at her lips. “Then maybe you just want to stay here to fuck with Jorgenson”

  “Don't be ridiculous,” I said. “I don't want to fuck with anybody.”

  “Then what?”

  I wasn't sure I knew what the answer was. Part of it was definitely Ty. I hadn't expected to meet him and I hadn't planned on kissing him. On having him take care of me. On having him demonstrate that he was into me as much as I was into him.

  I liked him. A lot.

  But part of it was Jorgenson, too. I hated the way he'd looked at me. He'd brought back so many memories that I'd tried to squelch, that I'd tried to eliminate. But all it took was one look from him and I felt like a kid again, like I'd once again failed everyone. It was like I was ten years old again and everyone looking at me like I was a criminal.

  “Did you think I did it?” I finally asked Jenna.

  She'd been staring out into the hallway and brought her eyes back to me. “What?”

  “Rosie,” I said. I swallowed hard. It was a question I'd never asked, mostly because I didn't want to know the answer. But, now, with everything that had just happened? I had to ask it, had to know. “Did you think I did it?”

  She scowled. “What the hell kind of question is that?”

  “Mom did,” I pointed out. “I think she still wonders.”

  “Yeah, well, Mom's fucking insane.”

  I didn't say anything. I'd never forgotten the day Jorgenson had come to visit, how she'd looked at me with the same accusation in her eyes as he'd had in his. It had always stayed with me. After that day, she'd never been the same to me. There was always a distance, a coldness. As I'd gotten older, it had manifested into anger and bitterness and I couldn't do anything right. And I'd responded with my own anger, doing things to piss her off and fighting with her at every opportunity. Our relationship had deteriorated to nearly nothing.

  “But she thought I did,” I said. “I know she did. Just like Jorgenson.”

  Jenna shifted on the couch. “Maybe. I don't know. Mom...she's just all fucked up.”

  “So, did you?” I asked again.

  She brought her feet on to the sofa cushion, bringing her knees to her chest. “No.”

  “Not ever?”

  She shook her head emphatically. “Not ever.”

  “Why not?”

  “Come on, Lily.”

  “I'm serious. Why not?”

  She sighed loudly. “I don't know. Because you're my sister. Because Rosie was our sister. Because I know you wouldn't do that. Didn't do that. I don't care what anyone else thinks. Not Mom or Jorgenson or anyone else.”

  I nodded, wanting to believe her. “What about Dad? You think he ever believed it?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “No way. Not Dad. You were his fucking golden child. Still are.” She paused. “I mean, he was the one who told Jorgenson to fuck off, right?”

  I nodded. He was. And after that day, he'd gone out of his way to make sure I knew he believed me. He was affectionate, always hugging me, kissing me on top of the head. I was pretty sure that was what had led to him divorcing my mom. But I'd always wondered if he hadn't at some point wondered if I'd done it. I wouldn't have blamed him. The way Jorgenson made it sound, it was like they'd found my fingerprints on Rosie's back. So years later, I could understand why people might've taken a moment and wondered, even if it couldn't have been further from the truth.

  “So it's Jorgenson, isn't it?” Jenna said.

  “What's Jorgenson?”

  She stood, straightening the skirt of her dress. “You want to stick it up his ass and prove to him that you never did anything.”

  I stayed quiet. I would never admit it out loud but there was a small part of me that wanted to find a way to redeem myself, to clear my name once and for all, even if Jorgenson was the only one who thought I'd done something to my sister. The accusations hadn't traveled outside of our family—he'd never pursued anything legally—but I'd just shared the story with someone else, someone whom I cared what they about me.

  Ty.

  “I'm not sure you can do that,” Jenna said. “I'm not sure you have anything to prove to anyone.”

  I stared at the living room wall, wondering what the sheriff was asking Ty, wondering if he's started asking other people about me.

  “You didn't do it,” Jenna said. “You don't have anything to prove to him or anyone else.”

  I knew she was saying those things to make me feel better and I appreciated it. Coming from Jenna, they meant something. We'd never had a close relationship and having her step up to bat for me was something I'd never expected.

  But there was one problem.

  I didn't agree with her.

  TWENTY

  I didn't have to talk to Sheriff Jorgenson right away. Sheila approached me and Jenna in the living room, a cordless phone in her hand. Her silvery hair had fallen completely out of its standard sloppy bun, and she pushed at it with her hands as she handed me the phone. She looked frazzled and I wondered just how much she knew about the events of the morning.

  “For me?” I asked, confused.

  She nodded. “It's Sven. He said he tried calling your cell but there was no answer.”

  Sh
it. My phone. And my car. I'd completely forgotten in the chaos of the morning.

  I spoke into the receiver. “This is Lily.”

  “This is the hardest woman in Pelican Lake to find?” a deep voice responded.

  “I'm sorry,” I said. “I didn't have my phone with me. We...we were outside.” It sounded ridiculously lame but I didn't want to go into the details of how I'd spent my morning.

  “You should hold on to your phone,” he said. “If you want news about your car.”

  I tried to stem the irritation I was feeling. I didn't need a lecture from some random auto mechanic. “Have you had a chance to look at it?”

  “Yeah.” He paused. “Transmission is shot.”

  “What?”

  “Transmission. Gone.”

  I didn't know much about cars but I knew that it didn't sound good. “Well, shit,” I said. “Can you fix it?”

  “I can fix anything,” he told me. “But it's gonna cost you.”

  My heart sank a little. I'd wanted an easy fix. The way Sven was talking, this was not going to be the case with my car.

  “Why don't you swing by?” he said. “I need some info from you. We can go over the options.” Before I could say yes or no, there was a click and the line went dead.

  “Bad news?” Jenna asked. She'd sat back down on the couch while I was on the phone, waiting. Her finger was once again at her mouth, tapping her lower lip. I looked at the nail. Still pristine. Unchewed.

  “The worst.” I stood up and stretched, then tensed up as my feet bore the full force of my weight. They were going to be sore for days.

  Jenna noticed. “What's wrong?”

  “I cut up my feet a little bit. Looking for Annie.”

  The finger made its way into her mouth for a half a second before she pulled it away. “We haven't talked about that.”

  I frowned. “What is there to talk about? You want a blow-by-blow of how I found her?” I knew my sister. She didn't like to talk about anything that related to Rosie, to the river.

  “No.” Her voice was vehement. She held out her hand to stop me. “I just meant...shit. I don't know. Never mind.”

  I noticed then that she was in worse shape than I'd thought. She'd been combative, defensive of me, when she'd first come in and gotten Ty. And then after, with the two of us sitting and talking, she'd been rock-solid, her demeanor showing nothing other than irritation with the sheriff. But there was something there now, something that told me she was more vulnerable than she was letting on. We might not be close but I knew my sister. She could talk a big game, be the biggest bitch there was, but she was hurting. This was all hitting just as close to home for her as it was for me. I looked at her eyes, wet with unshed tears, her brow furrowed, her lips drawn in a thin line, opening only to contemplate chewing her nail. Her hand shook as she brought her finger back to her mouth. This time, she nibbled.