by CJ Birch
Elle stepped into the dark garage just before dusk. The smell of gasoline and grease assaulted her. It reminded Elle of her grandfather’s workshop. He’d always loved tinkering with things, seeing how they worked. There was always one appliance or another in a state of disassembly.
“Hello?” she called.
Motorcycle parts littered the floor. Bikes from every decade lay in pieces around the edge of the room. To her right was a shiny black Yamaha in mint condition.
“Beaut, isn’t she?” Kate stepped into the garage from out back, wiping greasy hands on a filthy cloth.
“Yeah. Where’d you get it?” Elle stepped closer, admiring the custom work.
“Found it.” She pointed behind her. “It was tucked into this old field out near the Culpeppers’. Whoever hid it didn’t want it found. It was camouflaged under some brush.” Kate stopped next to Elle, smelling of grease and hard work. “I was going to call you tomorrow.”
Elle raised her eyebrows.
“No, really. I was.” Kate held her hand to her heart. “I swear. As much as this bike’s beautiful, I could never cheat on my Harley.” Her grin was mischievous.
“Is this what they call an honest mechanic? I wasn’t aware any existed.” Elle’s heartbeat picked up. She was actually flirting. A few hours after kissing a woman in Turlough and now this. This was not good. “Uh.” She cleared her throat. “Can you send the plate number to Neil? I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned up stolen.”
“Sure, I’ll send him a pic first thing.”
Elle sidestepped a pile of sawdust, darkened by the oil it had soaked up. “The reason I stopped by was to see if you had any more insight into how the Pritchards’ car got onto the well.”
Kate’s smile faltered, but only for a moment. “Sure. Yeah.” Kate crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “I’d say they used boards to get it up. Line two up along the stairs and drive the car on up. Could’ve been done with two people.”
Elle chewed on her bottom lip, staring off into space, unaware of how close Kate watched the action.
“You think EJ did it?”
Elle knew EJ did it. The whole prank smacked of Dan. And if Dan was involved, then EJ was as well. But she couldn’t let on she thought like that. Even if she didn’t find any evidence to charge them, the town would still know and treat them to their own brand of justice. “Could’ve been any number of people. So far we haven’t found any witnesses.”
Kate shrugged. “Just as well. Randy Pritchard’s a sexist prick.”
Outside, blue dusk swept through the streets, stirring the crickets. The heat hadn’t let up and all Elle could think about was getting home and showering. She hadn’t had a chance since her ordeal at the Maverty house and she was sure she stank.
They both spoke at the same time.
“I should go.”
“How’s the investigation going?”
Kate smiled first. “Of course. I didn’t mean to keep you.”
“The investigation is moving along. We’re still waiting on results from the staties.”
Kate nodded, as if she’d been expecting that answer.
Later that night, as Elle lay in bed waiting to fall asleep, she replayed the conversation over again.
It was always awkward with Kate. Ever since that last summer before college. Sometime between junior high and senior year they’d drifted toward different circles, Kate with the art club and Elle with the jocks. Occasionally, they would cross paths. Senior year, it happened a lot. They’d ended up working on the school play together. Kate was in charge of set design and Elle had taken an art elective that year and volunteered to help.
One night in April, they’d worked late at Elle’s house. It was a warm night, so Elle suggested they work out on the back porch.
Looking back, Elle always had a crush on Kate. She’d never called it that because she was afraid of what it meant. But that last year, working together, there were moments when she thought Kate might feel the same. That thought solidified that night in April.
Kate had been wearing black jeans and a loose sweater that revealed a blue striped bra whenever she leaned forward. Elle couldn’t help but look. She thought she’d been subtle about it until Kate asked if she should take her sweater off to give Elle a better view.
Elle turned beet red, making Kate grin. Then she pulled the hem up and over her head, dropping the sweater to the deck.
Elle hadn’t even allowed herself to fantasize about this. When Kate reached back to unhook her bra, Elle held a hand up to stop her.
“You want me to stop?” Kate’s voice wavered, unsure if she’d misread the situation.
“Believe me, there’s nothing I want more.” Elle bit her lip, trying to slow her breathing down. “But.” She turned to look inside.
“Your parents are asleep. I saw them head to their room an hour ago.”
“I don’t know.”
Kate moved closer to Elle on the lounge, draping her legs on either side. “How about this? I could take my bra off, but put my sweater back on?”
Elle’s gaze dropped from Kate’s eyes to her breasts. They looked perfect pressed against the fabric of her bra. She’d spent most of last summer watching those breasts parade around in a blue bikini. Instead of answering, Elle leaned forward and unhooked the clasp. She pushed the straps off Kate’s shoulders and let the cups fall away, revealing two of the most beautiful breasts Elle had ever seen. Just sitting there with Kate topless was more exciting than anything Elle had ever done with Jessie.
Heat rose up through Elle’s body. She ached to touch them but was afraid if she did they would evaporate like the dream this undoubtedly was. Elle sat with her hands in her lap, staring as the air thickened around them. Kate’s breasts rose and fell; each second they seemed to get faster. Elle met Kate’s eyes and they held there, for seconds, minutes, inches apart, both afraid to be the first to move.
It was Kate who finally did. She took Elle’s hands and placed them on her breasts. At the feel of the soft skin, Elle closed her eyes. She ran her thumbs over the hard nipples. Her eyes snapped open at the moan that move elicited, surprised at her own wetness. She bit her lip and did it again, this time rolling them between her fingers. Another moan, more wetness.
Kate grabbed Elle’s neck and pulled her in, mashing their lips together. Tongues entwined. Kate’s fingers twisted in Elle’s hair.
And that’s how Jessie found them, locked together half naked on the lounge on Elle’s back porch. He’d been shocked, then outraged, and finally hurt. She’d told him everything, even if he didn’t believe it.
And that was it. She’d dropped out of working on the play and she’d avoided Kate until she left for college.
And now it was awkward.
She didn’t want it to be, but ever since she came back to Turlough, their interactions were punctuated with long pauses and stilted dialogue. She wished they could go back to the way they’d been in high school. Back then everything was easier.
* * *
Elle stood outside the front gate of a brown-sided house off the main strip. It was one of the houses Chuck Dell owned when he was still alive. Abandoned projects littered the front yard: a half-constructed bird feeder, three scraped porch pillars, one painted. The garden had several bushes planted; the rest lay skeletal and bare.
Elle had spent yesterday questioning every student at J.P. Flynn. Most were at the keg party, something they’d only admitted to once Elle assured them they weren’t getting into trouble. It had all been for naught. No one had seen EJ or Dan between nine and midnight. She only had Dan’s word that they were together at his house, and EJ still refused to say anything.
As she told EJ she’d be keeping him for the forty-eight hours, his face became a mask of panic and betrayal. When she placed him in the cell in the basement, it reminded her of that first week after their parents died. He’d had the same look anytime she’d tried to get him to do something. Asking him to
do anything more than breathe was enough for his silent treatment. For weeks, he refused to even bathe. At first, she wasn’t sure if she should let him be or scream and shout like she’d wanted to. Needed to. It wasn’t fair that he got to fall apart and she had to be the strong one.
By the time Elle began her very thorough assault against her parents’ rules EJ was only a baby. Having to compete with a helpless infant only made her transgressions appear all the more defiant. But after so many years she and EJ had gotten to know their roles so well it was effortless to play them. When her parents died they left more than holes in their lives. They’d left holes in the production, and Elle didn’t know if she was capable of stepping into someone else’s part.
Two and a half weeks after her parents’ funeral, EJ still hadn’t bathed. One night, after watching him push his dinner around on his plate for an hour, she grabbed him around the waist and carried him screaming and kicking into their shared bathroom. She plopped him into the tub fully clothed, turned on the water, and began scrubbing. The whole time she was bawling, worried helpless frustration was the only emotion she’d feel for the rest of her life. It was still a constant ache. She’d promised to look after him, keep him safe, but all she’d managed was to push him to be exactly like her.
She’d needed to get out of the station to distract herself.
And that’s how she’d ended up standing at this gate belonging to the man who had made the worst day of their lives happen. The man who had gotten behind the wheel of his car with a bottle of whiskey tucked away in his belly. The man who had caused the death of both their parents.
She felt anger so acute it rose up in her throat like bile. If he’d never gotten in his car that night, would EJ be at home listening to music instead of shut up in a cell in the basement of the sheriff’s office?
Elle took a deep breath. She wasn’t here for herself. She was here to help Case keep his job. A job he’d held for over twenty years. They had no right to take it from him with a vote, despite the irony that he had kept it all these years because of a vote. Case ran uncontested for the past seven years. When Tom Hampstead passed away, the new funeral owner, who also doubled as the mortician, found the practice too much extra work for his taste. No one but Case wanted the job.
Stronger than anger and guilt, indignation pushed her through that front gate and up the porch steps. Elle pounded on the door. She heard wild barking on the other side. It got louder as it got closer to the door. Then shuffling and a man’s voice telling the dog to shut up.
“Who is it?” There was no peephole. Most people in Turlough were pretty trusting, but Sid Derry had always been a bit paranoid.
“It’s Sheriff Ashley.”
A long pause, then, “What’s this about?”
Elle shifted her weight to the other foot, annoyed at having to justify her presence, especially since she had no official reason for being there. Sid Derry had every right to order her off his property. “Open the door please, sir.”
“Am I in some kind of trouble?”
“No, I’d like to speak to you about a personal matter.” Elle hoped curiosity would win out over his paranoia.
But he didn’t open the door. She felt like an idiot standing there, waiting. She could hear more shuffling on the other side of the closed door. A car passed on the street. Elle couldn’t be sure, but it appeared to slow as it passed the house. She was about to turn and leave when she heard the dead bolt shift. A few more locks and a chain, then Sid Derry was standing in the doorway holding on to the collar of a very scruffy looking dog. It barked at the sight of Elle. Derry appeared to have aged decades, not years, since Elle had seen him last. He was slight and the way he held on to his dog made him look stooped. He peered at her through cloudy blue eyes.
“Sadie, down, girl,” he said and yanked the collar. “Come in.”
Elle stepped over the threshold into the gloom of the foyer. She felt like throwing up. Junk filled every inch of space. It had been decades since anyone but Derry had been in this house.
“Come on in. Have a seat,” he said.
But when she entered the living room there wasn’t anywhere to sit. Piles of newspapers and electronics covered every surface. Derry noticed this a second later and began to clear space on a dark green couch facing the kitchen. He took a seat opposite in a lounger, the only seat that looked like it was used for its intended purpose. Sadie circled three times, then settled next to Derry, keeping a wary eye on Elle.
Now that she’d sat down, Elle was at a loss for words. Somehow the regular pleasantries didn’t fit. She could hardly care how he was doing or how he had been. She hadn’t seen him since the civil suit, a year and a half after he’d walked away from a double count of vehicular manslaughter on a technicality. In the confusion after discovering her father’s arterial leg bleed, they’d forgotten to do a sobriety test on Derry. Elle often wondered if they’d overlooked it on purpose because of his standing in the community. She considered, looking around, what the other city council members would think of Derry if they could see this place. Maybe they would see him for what he was, a barely functioning drunk with a hoarding problem.
“To what do I owe this honor?” He tried to make it sound like a sneer, but he couldn’t keep the curiosity out of his voice.
“I came to speak with you about the upcoming vote.”
Derry crossed his legs, casual like, as if they were at a country club about to order cocktails. His slipper had a hole worn through the sole. “What vote?” His eyes darted around the room, seeing it through the eyes of a visitor for the first time in years.
“Let’s not pretend, Mr. Derry, that the whole town doesn’t know about the upcoming amalgamation vote. You want to merge the coroner’s job with county sheriff.” He stared at her with watery eyes, dulled by hard years.
“So what’s that got to do with you coming here?”
“I wanted to ask how you were planning on voting.” She still had no idea how she was going to get him to change his mind if she didn’t like the answer, but she knew she had to try.
Derry pulled himself up a little higher, which did nothing to improve his stature. He was already short to begin with, but years of drinking had reduced him. He looked in Elle’s eyes like a vulture, hunched and leery.
“And what’s that any business of yours?”
“It isn’t, but it certainly affects me.” If she could get him to agree to this she would have one less thing on her plate. One less worry so she could focus on finding evidence to prove EJ’s innocence. “I came here to appeal to you to vote to keep the coroner’s position.” Having said it, the words tasted raw in her throat.
Derry leaned back, a smile growing on his face. “I see. And you thought you’d ask me for this because you felt I owed you something? Thought you could appeal to my guilty conscience?” Was that what she’d been trying to do? She wasn’t even sure he had a conscience. The way he’d spoken at the trial made it sound like the accident had been her parents’ fault.
“Jack’s a good man. He doesn’t deserve this.”
“Why should I do anything that helps him?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do.”
Derry was enjoying this. For too long, he’d felt dismissed. He still held his position on the council. He was a pillar. One of the old guard. But a lot had changed since the accident. It happened so gradually it was hard to recognize it for what it was: a fall from grace. Elle wasn’t as blind as the others. She’d watched as he metamorphosed into this recluse most people had forgotten. Before the accident, he’d run a successful law practice. After the civil suit, he’d declared bankruptcy and closed his firm. He’d stopped going into Finnegan’s or even Dell’s. Then he started getting his groceries delivered. Until one day, the only ones who ever saw him were the council members when there was a vote or mandatory meeting. For Elle, it wasn’t even close to what he deserved. He should be serving time. Voluntary imprisonment wasn’t the same thing.
“The right thing to do? And I guess you always do the right thing. I guess that’s why your brother always finds himself free. Perhaps this time it’ll stick.”
Elle wasn’t surprised that he’d already heard about her bringing EJ in for questioning. This town had a better communication system than AT&T. She remained silent. She could endure this. If it meant Case keeping his job, she could stand to have this man judge her.
“Let’s face it,” his eyes roved her body, making Elle feel as dirty as the room she was sitting in, “the only reason you got voted in was because Bailey bought it for you. He was respected in this community, he did a lot of favors for a lot of people over the years. And the second any of them thinks you’re not holding up your end of the bargain, well, we’ll see.” He laughed, which was so short it sounded more like a hiccup. “After all, it’s not like it’s a hard job. I’m not sure what you and Bailey had going, but I do know he liked them young.” The way he spoke it was like he was throwing each word at her like a dagger.
“And what is it you do exactly? Sit and pass judgment on a town that you have no involvement with and haven’t for close to a decade?”
“And whose fault is that?” Derry shot out from his chair. His whole body was shaking, fists balled, ready to pound something. Sadie lifted her head, a low growl vibrated through her body.
“Excuse me?” Elle remained in her seat in case Sadie turned out to be deadlier than she looked. “You think that’s my fault? I’ve been making your bad choices for the past decade?”
He glared at her. “You’re the reason I’m in this situation. I had a thriving law practice before you came along. People respected my opinion. I lost everything because of you.” He spread his hands to encompass the living room, as if it were a reflection of his retreat from society. “And now look what I have.”
That this man would bemoan his lost privileges as if they were more important than her parents’ lives spoke of his utter lack of perspective. There was no reasoning with a man like that, not in any logical way. She stood so fast, a pile of newspapers skidded to the floor. “I’ll see myself out.”