The Girl That Was Obsessed With Murder

by James Larpson

  “Vivian!” Clare said.

  For the next few minutes the women caught up. They talked about their kids, their busy schedules, and of course, why Clare was there. She looked into Vivian’s cart, which held wine bottles and cheese. The woman didn’t look like she cared about a thing.

  “So listen,” she said, “I’m throwing a little summer kick-off party at the house on Friday. All of us miss you, Clare. Would you please come?”

  “I don’t see a reason to say no,” Clare said.

  “Great!” “Thanks so much, Vivian. It’s great to see you again.”

  “Oh likewise, dear. I’ll see you this Friday,” she said with a wink.

  Later that evening Clare walked through the front door with bags filled with food in hand.

  “Do we have to go?” Kate said when she told them about the party.

  “Is it that big of a deal? It will be fun.”

  Clare handed them the bags and walked to her room.

  On Friday, Kate reached for a towel and yelled out to Charlie: “I’m taking a shower, will you take care of CJ?”

  Charlie nodded and she closed the door. About an hour later they walked out of their driveway.

  “Why didn’t we just drive?” Kate said.

  “Across the neighborhood?” Clare snapped back.

  It was humid, hot, and it felt like there was nothing but stickiness in the air. Kate adjusted her shirt and aired out her arms when she noticed herself starting to sweat.

  When everyone else was excited to see Vivian’s house, Charlie saw something else. He looked to his left and saw an elderly woman—well most of an elderly woman at least. He couldn’t really make out her face. A group of trees were blocking his view. He did see, though, a Bible in the woman’s lap as she sat on a wooden porch swing. She wore a plain, white dress that nearly covered her ankles.

  “Here we are,” Clare said, turning Charlie’s shoulder to fix his view on the house.

  He looked back at the old woman, but she was gone. At least, he couldn’t see her. There were trees blocking his view completely now.

  “I want everyone to be on his or her best behavior.”

  “We know,” Kate said.

  Charlie turned to the house, still thinking of the woman.

  Clare rung the doorbell and Vivian answered with a wine bottle in her hand. She insisted they come in. She wore a long, slimming red dress with sparkles on the right shoulder. Her hair was combed up into a bun-like style. The guests inside spotted the family within seconds. Several adults holding margaritas rushed to Clare, and even Kate saw some of her old friends near the Wii in the family room. Clare gave CJ to Kate and Charlie followed her. Before she could reunite with her friends, a strange woman who looked about sixty who looked like she had been through war approached the kids. She wore a short—too short for an old lady—black dress.

  “Hey guys! Kate and Charlie...right? Some people told me you guys were back in town. It’s okay if you kids don’t remember me, I wouldn’t blame you. So you guys are permanently back?”

  Kate and Charlie looked at each other.

  “It looks like it,” Charlie said.

  “I’m glad. I don’t know what kind of stuff you guys might have dealt with that made you come back, but just don’t expect everything to be all peachy now, you know? Every town has its issues, but I’m sure you’ve figured that out. Anyway, I hope you guys have fun tonight!”

  The two kids gave awkward half-smiles and the woman walked away.

  “Who was that?”

  “Like I knew?” Kate said.

  Charlie reached for a cup next to the punch bowl, but Kate touched his arm and stared at the wall in thought.

  “There’s something weird with her. This town isn't all that big, Charlie. Don’t you think we would have at least seen her before? I know we don’t remember everyone by heart, but she would have been someone that stuck in my memory. Besides, we at least recognize everyone else at this party.”

  “You’re right,” Charlie added.

  “Look at her. She sticks out like a sore thumb. That dress is way too short, too. She probably hasn’t talked to anyone else here—why choose to talk to us? I’m positive we’ve never seen her before,” Kate said.

  Charlie let out a sigh.

  “Kate what the hell?” she heard.

  Behind her were three familiar faces.

  “Kate what are you doing here?” one voice said.

  “Are you moving back?” another said.

  It was Kate’s three best friends. They grabbed her by the hand and told her about how they almost died without her. She handed CJ to Charlie and shot him an apologetic look, knowing he didn’t have anyone to talk to. He glanced again by the punch bowl and saw the mysterious old woman glancing at Kate. He turned his eyes back to CJ, seeing the innocence in his eyes and the cute wrinkle in his nose. He also saw a man across from the punch bowl staring at him. Charlie stared back and it took the man a moment before he turned away. The man had a beard, looked like he was in his thirties, and was noticeably under-dressed. Behind him stood a red-haired boy sitting in a wheelchair socializing with two other boys, both holding red cups of punch. Flashbacks ran through Charlie’s mind as he noticed the kids, and he felt his stomach swell.

  He, still with CJ, ran down the hall to what looked like a bathroom. As he was about to close the door, the weird old woman spoke again.

  “Someone often pees heavy in evening.”

  Excuse me? Charlie thought. What was that supposed to mean?

  “Uh, yeah,” he mumbled before shutting the door.

  “Clare sweetheart can I get you some punch?” Vivian said.

  Clare nodded and smiled. She handed her the cup, and their hands brushed against each other.

  Charlie turned the light off and opened the bathroom door. The hallway was no longer crowded—he looked around the corner to see all the guests gathered in a circle, staring at something, or someone, on the floor. As he walked forward someone came behind him and covered his mouth, pushing him towards the back door. He looked up from the ground to see Kate, still covering his mouth, motioning for him to stay quiet. She kept her hand over his mouth until they reached their driveway.

  “Okay, you can whisper,” she said.

  She looked at Charlie’s horrific and confused face.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said.

  “You did a good job of it. You mind telling me what just happened?”

  “I didn’t want us to get blamed or sit there being questioned for hours,” she said while looking out the curtains and taking CJ from Charlie.

  “Blamed for what Kate? What happened?”

  She looked him straight in the eyes: “Vivian collapsed.”

  “What?”

  That must have been who everyone was staring at.

  “I didn’t see it, but people said she was just getting some punch then fell. When I got you they were all scrambling to find a pulse.”

  “Well wouldn’t have been smart to stay and help? Why’d you make us leave?”

  “I don’t know, I panicked. I figured we would be easy suspects if this turned into a murder case. The two kids who suspiciously came into town a few days before she was killed.”

  Charlie sat down and looked like Kate had lost her mind.

  “Kate, that’s ridiculous. Nobody said anything about her being murdered. Besides, we look a lot more suspicious now that we left. What about Mom? She’s probably freaking out.”

  “I'm sorry. But Charlie, you don't understand, I couldn't risk being there if cops came. I didn't tell mom the whole truth about the car being dented. This isn't far from Denver; they could have people looking out for me. I hit another car, not a street light.”

  Charlie bit his lip.

  “I didn’t want to leave you alone or have you worrying about me missing,” she said as she put her hand on his shoulder.

  Charlie rolled her eyes without her noticing.

  “I wonder what Mr.
Jones did. This is the last thing he needs after just being released from that mental hospital.”

  “Charlie, it wasn’t a mental hospital. It was some therapy office. Their family probably went through some trough stuff and he needed help. I didn’t even see him at the party, though.”

  Before Charlie could say anything, something caught their attention. It was not a knock, but something hit the front door.

  “You think that’s mom?”

  “I don’t know. Don’t you think everyone at the party is getting questioned still? She’s going to be so worried about us,” Charlie pointed out.

  Kate opened the front door without hesitation, but nobody was there.

  “You heard that too, right?” Kate asked.

  “There’s nobody out here,” she said.

  Kate walked down two of the three brick steps and turned her head—nothing.

  “That’s weird,” Charlie said while stepping forward towards her.

  He looked around also.

  “Let’s go back inside.”

  Kate walked up the first one, and Charlie followed. He head turned as he heard something in the bushes. A man sprung up and Charlie felt his ankle being grabbed before his entire body was tackled to the cold, stiff grass in the front yard. Kate looked back, horrified. She tried to call for help, but the entire neighborhood was still at the party—nobody would hear her.

  8

  Murder: Round 2

  “You thought that was funny, huh? Is that what it was?” the man said while he held down Charlie.

  The man wore a suit with a black tie now filled with grass stains. He had a buzz cut and had yellow, crooked teeth that were home to breath that smelled like rotten eggs and spoiled milk. He had much more strength than Charlie anticipated.

  “Mr. Jones?” he asked under his breath.

  Charlie saw his small veins peeping through his skin as they began to turn blue. The man’s hold was so tight on him no matter how hard he pushed against him he didn’t move off of Charlie.

  Kate rushed over and put her hand over the man’s shoulder and tried to push him off Charlie. The man’s head snapped back.

  “What are you talking about Mr. Jones? Please, just let him go!”

  “You killed my Vivian. That’s what I’m talking about!”

  His hold became tighter and Charlie’s throat tightened.

  “Mr. Jones, we don’t have any idea what you’re talking—”

  The man didn’t wait for her to finish.

  “Don’t act innocent Ms. -center-of-attention. Nobody else left when she fell. I’m not stupid. First my daughter, and now my wife? How much more hell will I have to go through?”

  The man pulled out a pocketknife and took it to Charlie’s neck.

  “You’re not taking anything else from me, and I’ll make sure of it,” he said.

  Charlie grabbed Nathan’s wrist, but his grip became weaker every second and the knife was lowering towards him.

  “I didn’t kill her!”

  “Liar! All they found on Vivian was a black smear or bruise-like mark on the back of her neck, just like the black stuff smeared on your fingers. I don’t understand it but I know you did something to her.”

  Kate panicked and remembered her mother talking about gardening. She took off her heels and sprinted towards the shovel, tripping on the first step. Charlie kicked his feet and hoped Kate was finding help. Charlie felt the blade of the knife skim his neck and heard Mr. Jones scream. The knife fell from his hands onto the wet ground and behind him stood Kate holding the shovel, breathing harder than never before. She dropped the weapon and lifted the man’s feet off of Charlie, allowing him to breathe. The grass soon turned a puddle of red under the man’s head. Kate’s hands shook and Charlie coughed for what felt like forever.

  “We have to get rid of this before someone sees,” Kate whispered.

  Charlie looked at her.

  “Where do we put him?” “Start digging,” she said, pointing to the shovel with her shaking finger.

  They were in shock. They had just killed a man—a human life was no longer here. They took that away from him. Charlie looked at his hands, seeing the black smears Mr. Jones referenced. Where had that been from? Charlie couldn’t help but ask himself: would everyone else in the town believe he killed Vivian also? He wondered if it was a coincidence or if someone had framed him. His attention was directed to Kate who brought two rolls of paper towels to clean the blood dripping from the man’s head into the grass.

  There wasn’t much space to hide the body, but they did have a little patch of trees further back from their backyard they decided to dig him in. All they knew is they had to get it out of the front yard. After a while Charlie dropped the shovel from exhaustion.

  “My arms are going to fall off,” he said to Kate, who was hiding the traces of the bloody paper towels.

  “Oh my gosh Charlie, did he get you?” she asked.

  His face was confused until she placed one of the paper towels up to his neck and looked at the red spot on it.

  He placed his finger on his neck, where Mr. Jones’ knife had barely, just barely, skimmed the top.

  “What am I going to tell mom?” he asked.

  “We will figure it out, for now go make sure I got all of the blood from the grass. I’ll finish digging,” she said.

  Kate made sure the body was not visible from any angle, and washed the blood off of the shovel. The two, exhausted, made their way up the front steps. Charlie dropped the clean roll of paper towels. He turned around and picked them up.

  “Oh my gosh, Kate,” he said as chills ran up his spine and his pulse quickened.

  Kate turned around, too.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said as her feet started to tingle.

  “The woman from the party,” Charlie whispered, making his hair on his neck rise.

  Across the street stood the old lady from the party who somehow knew the two without them ever seeing her before. They couldn't see much more other than her face but she continued staring at them through the curtains. She had seen everything. She raised her hand half way in the air, almost like a wave.

  9

  A Photographer And A Killer

  Kate rushed inside and locked the door.

  “Was she there the whole time?” Charlie asked.

  “Who cares? We just killed a man!” Kate yelled.

  Her arms and voice were shaky.

  “Do you think anyone else saw?”

  “Charlie we could go to jail, do you realize that?”

  “I know, Kate! I’m just thinking, okay? I mean it was in self defense—he was trying to kill me!”

  Charlie walked to the sink and rinsed off the blood.

  “But who’s going to believe us over an old lady?”

  “We need to have our story straight for mom. She’s going to be here any second.”

  “Look how much my arms are shaking!”

  “What do I tell mom about my neck?”

  Kate thought for a second. She brought back makeup from her room and covered the cut over his throat.

  “That’s the best we can do,” she said.

  “Okay but what happens when she tells everyone that we killed Mr. Jones?”

  “We’ll make sure she doesn’t. Leave that to me,” Kate said.

  Charlie didn’t know if Kate fully knew what she was saying. For all they knew half the town could have known about what they just did by now.

  “Did you know he had a daughter?” she said, changing the subject.

  “Nope. Maybe he made it up,” Charlie added.

  “It wouldn't surprise me, he just showed me he was crazier than what we thought.”

  “So what now? We just live with the fact that a body we killed is buried in our yard?”

  Kate let out a large sigh and buried her face in her arms. The two changed clothes and ran to their rooms when they heard Clare at the door. They didn’t feel like coming up with excuses this late.
/>   Her mascara was smeared and she took three tries to get the key in the hole of the door. The home was dark with the exception of one dim lamp near the kitchen. She called out for Kate and Charlie but there was no answer. She just hoped they were in bed—or at least somewhere in the house. Clare ensured each curtain was closed and each door was locked in the house, and then walked to the kids’ rooms. She opened Charlie’s first, and saw him in bed rolled over with his back against her. She closed the door and exited—while Charlie sat rolled in his blankets with his eyes wide open, staring outside.

  Clare walked into Kate’s room—but she was rolled over with her back against her, also wide-awake, but she wouldn’t let her mother know that. She heard her mother’s footsteps and her hand against her back and immediately shut her eyes. Clare pulled a fallen comforter back over Kate and closed the door behind her. Kate opened her eyes again.

  Charlie’s body squeaked his bed back and fourth, thinking about what he and Kate had done. They were murderers. His mind couldn’t wrap around what might happen if his mom—or worse, the police—found the body. There was no way they could hide it—what were they going to do about the smell? Charlie tried to guide his thoughts to anything else, like the fact that it was summer and he didn’t have to worry about school. Except he knew he had much more to worry about now. He wanted to check on Kate, but knowing how shaken she probably was, he didn’t want to scare her. Throwing the blanket over his head didn’t help either—all he could see was Mr. Jones on top of him. His mind was too full to permit thoughts of what happened to Vivian to enter. It sure looked like Charlie’s theory that maybe Vivian got back up minutes later and was fine was not proven accurate but instead there really was a murder at the party. Unlike Mr. Jones’ assumption, Charlie had no idea what—or who—was the reason for her death, after all he was in the bathroom when she fell. He may have not had a clue—but someone did.

  While Charlie spent the night clueless, someone else enjoyed the last sip of fruit punch and placed it on their dark wood desk, which was covered in pictures. There were photos of Vivian, Clare, Charlie, and Mr. Jones, among others. Also on it was a small, red square-shaped earring. They grabbed those of Vivian and threw them in the garbage bin to the side. Seconds later the pictures went into flames as a match went flying into the bin, and the pictures were destroyed.