by Milda Harris
“I know it has something to do with Paws,” Ethan said, still staring at the screen.
The dog, Paws, was lying at the foot of Ethan’s bed, fast asleep. He was a cute little guy, a Boston Terrier, who had lost an eye and wound up in the shelter. Liz had felt sorry for him and didn’t think he’d get adopted, so she took him home, ignoring her family’s no pet rule. Ethan said it took them less than twenty-four hours to fall in love with the dog too and throw out the rule. Doesn’t sound like a girl who would OD on heroin, does it?
“Yes!” Ethan yelled.
I turned away from Paws, to look at the screen. Ethan was into Liz’s account.
“It was ilovepaws, if you can believe it,” Ethan grinned and then seemed suddenly sad as he said, “So totally Liz.”
Liz’s home page was up on the computer screen. She had two new messages. Ethan clicked on the inbox icon. Two messages appeared. One was from a guy, Troy, the other from a girl, Vanessa, both dated the Sunday Liz had died. Liz had never gotten the chance to read them. The rest of the inbox was empty. She must have deleted her messages as she read them, just like the texts.
Ethan was smiling, “Jackpot! It’s him! His name is Troy Matthews!”
Ethan clicked on the message from Troy:
Hey, Liz!
It was great just talking the other night. I’m glad we did. I can’t wait to see you again! Call you later.
<3, Troy
“That doesn’t seem weird or anything,” I commented after reading the email over Ethan’s shoulder. “But that doesn’t rule him out, either.”
Ethan nodded and clicked on the message from Vanessa:
Liz -
When you get a chance I really, really, really need to talk to you. Called you, but it went straight to voicemail. Thought I’d see if you were online. Call me!!!
-Vanessa
“Now that’s interesting. She’s not on the missed calls,” I said looking at Liz’s phone again.
“Her phone must have been off,” Ethan said after a moment.
“That doesn’t help. I wonder what the big deal was. Do you know Vanessa Martin?” I asked Ethan as I peered at her picture. I knew I had never met her. She probably went to Laurel Community College too.
“No. She must’ve been one of Liz’s college friends. They didn’t really come over, like her high school friends did. It wasn’t cool to hang out here, if you know what I mean. Not that it is now either, but I have nowhere else to go. A lot of her new friends have their own places,” Ethan shrugged.
“I really wonder what Vanessa wanted to talk to Liz about,” A thought popped into my mind. “Can we email her? I mean, not from Liz’s account because that might creep her out, but maybe from yours?”
“And just ask her what she needed to talk to Liz about?” Ethan sounded doubtful.
“Yeah, I mean, if she knows something, maybe she’ll tell you. Play up the grieving brother,” I offered. “It can’t hurt. Worst thing, she’ll say is no.”
“What about Troy?” Ethan said, clicking back to Troy’s message.
“I don’t think we should email him…yet.” I stared at Troy’s message for a moment. “Actually, I have an idea. Can I?”
I reached for the computer and Ethan handed it to me. He sat up and looked over my shoulder as I went to Facebook’s friend finder. I typed in the name – Olivia Reynolds. Her name popped up immediately and I clicked on her profile. I was looking for the mutual friends list and there it was - two friends in common, Troy Matthews and oddly enough, Suzie Whitsett, the girl my chemistry lab partner, Kyle Jones had a crush on.
“Okay, interesting. So, Liz and Olivia both knew Troy Matthews and Suzie Whitsett,” I started.
“Wait are you thinking… Check out Melissa Kent,” Ethan was unknowingly, holding a death grip on the comforter. “Troy has to know her too.”
“Okay, okay, I’m checking her too, but do you know how Liz knows Suzie Whitsett? She’s in our grade at school,” I said, while typing in Melissa’s name.
“The quiet girl? I think they volunteered at the animal shelter together or something. Liz took me to an animal adoption at the park once and introduced me to Suzie. I only remember because I had seen her in school, but had never actually heard her speak before,” Ethan said, staring at the computer screen.
“You know, you can be really arrogant,” I said, without thinking, as the results popped up.
Ethan turned away from the screen to look at me, “What?”
“Suzie’s a really nice girl and really smart. She’s just shy. You need to learn to get to know people before you judge their entire personalities,” I don’t know what was wrong with me. I was telling off the most popular guy in school for not taking the time to figure out that the quiet girl is just shy.
“Like you?” he asked, watching me.
I ignored the question and turned to look back at the screen and Melissa Kent and Liz O’Reilly’s common friends. I felt Ethan look at me for a moment more before he turned to look at them too.
There it was, only one friend in common – Troy Matthews, Facebook friend to all three of the alleged murder victims. Coincidence? I think not. Although, one would think he’d delete them from his friend’s list after he murdered them, but I guess not.
Chapter 7: Finger-Pointing
It took me awhile to calm Ethan down. Although, it was an excellent lead, just because Troy knew all of the dead girls, didn’t mean he had killed them.
“We can’t just go to the police and accuse Troy,” I reasoned with Ethan. “They’re not going to believe us. Haven’t you seen like every horror movie? Nobody believes teenagers.”
Ethan looked at me with frustration and pointed at the computer, “But it’s right there! He knew all of them! What more evidence do we need?”
“A motive?” I volunteered.
Ethan shook his head, “Let the cops figure out a motive.”
“Look, I admit it’s suspicious, but there has to be more,” I argued.
Ethan shook his head, but I could see that he was at the very least, calming down. “I’m still going to the police. They have to know about this. All we need to do is get them to change their minds. We don’t actually have to solve the case.”
“I know, but I still think we need more,” I said.
“But this is huge,” Ethan replied. “He knew all of them. The cops have to know.”
We had been arguing about this for the last half hour, so I nodded, realizing that I wasn’t going to be able to dissuade him. I still didn’t think we had enough to go on. It could be a coincidence. Troy could be a totally innocent guy, who just happened to have a lot of dead girl space friends. Still, I will admit, even I had a vague hope that the police would change their investigation from drugs to murder and that Troy’s relationships to the victims might be a catalyst for that.
The Palos Police Station is a small police station. My guess is that most of their calls are about domestic violence and petty crime. I should have known that they wouldn’t know what to do with a murder case, even if it did fall in their laps.
“What can I do for you, Ethan?” Detective Dixon asked, leaning back in his desk chair as he took a sip of coffee from a steaming styrofoam cup.
Didn’t he know that styrofoam was practically non-recyclable? What about saving the planet and all that? I didn’t say anything, though, even though I was thinking it. We weren’t here to save the planet, after all. We were there to stop more people from getting murdered and since I was the weird girl, we had agreed to let Ethan do all the talking. So, quiet, stay quiet, was the mantra I kept repeating in my brain.
Detective Dixon’s office was a tiny cubbyhole in the Palos Police Department and it was littered with those empty styrofoam coffee cups. This guy liked his coffee…and killing the planet. Other than that, there were papers everywhere. For a small suburban town with no apparent crime, other than a triple murder labeled as drug overdoses, he looked like he might be a busy guy. And, okay maybe there
was more than just domestic violence cases happening in the city of Palos. Maybe it wasn’t the nice town it seemed to be. I know I had always felt safe there before, but maybe not so much now.
Ethan was in the middle of explaining the situation, when I tuned back into the conversation and out of my inner monologue, “So, what that boils down to is that we think my sister Liz, Olivia Reynolds, and Melissa Kent were all murdered. And, we think Troy Matthews might be involved. He knew all the victims.”
Detective Dixon had spent Ethan’s entire explanation nodding, but he hadn’t even touched the blank notepad and black pen lying on his desk, “You said they were Facebook friends?”
Ethan nodded, “Yes.”
“Technically, aren’t they all connected through their school? Isn’t Facebook a social tool? For networking? It’s possible that they all knew each other too, isn’t it? Laurel Community College is a small school. A tight knit community college, if you will. Everyone knows everyone else and everyone’s on Facebook. That’s why these overdoses are such a tragedy,” Detective Dixon had slipped into his procedural police voice.
It was obvious to me that he was thinking – ah, these silly kids, trying to play detective! I was no silly kid!
“They’re not overdoses! They’re murders!” I said and okay, maybe I said it a little too loudly, with a little too much emphasis, and totally out of the blue since I had just been sitting there quietly before this.
“And, how are you involved?” Detective Dixon turned to me, “Besides being Mr. Ripley’s girlfriend? I’m sorry, Miss…”
“Kait Lenox,” I said, feeling frustrated.
“Miss Lenox,” Detective Dixon continued, “I’ve worked for this police department for the last twenty years. We’re checking these overdoses out, but for now, they’re classified as drug related deaths. There’s no evidence leading us to believe these girls were murdered.”
“But we just gave you evidence!” Ethan cried.
“All based on how you feel about your sister and other girls in similar situations. It’s a coincidence. It is very possible that the girls all had lots of friends in common. They may have even known each other. It’s a very, very sad situation, but there is absolutely no evidence of anything more than drugs. Troy Matthews isn’t a lead because there weren’t any murders,” Detective Dixon was trying to be compassionate, but it came out patronizing.
“What about looking into if he’s a drug dealer or if they did drugs together or something?” I asked, just wanting them to check up on Troy in some way. I was getting really frustrated.
Detective Dixon frowned, “We’ll keep an eye on him, but there really isn’t any evidence that he’s involved…”
“There’s also this email from Vanessa Martin that Liz never got from the day she died,” I said pushing a copy of Vanessa’s Facebook email to Liz toward him.
He glanced at it quickly and said, “This doesn’t say anything. Looks like she just needed to talk to her.”
“Yeah,” I kept pushing, “And, then within hours of that email, Liz is dead. Maybe Vanessa knows something about that.”
“We’ll look into it,” Detective Dixon, nodded, but I didn’t believe him.
Ethan was seething, but trying to hold his temper. I didn’t even know him that well and I could see that Detective Dixon was frustrating the hell out of him. Hell, Detective Dixon was frustrating the hell out of me too and it wasn’t even my sister that had died. I knew we were onto something. The police had to listen. I mean, what were Ethan and I going to do with this information? The law had to help us out and use it to find the murderer and then arrest them.
“At least check out Troy Matthews,” I pleaded. I was suddenly afraid that we had blown our one and only shot with the police and solving Liz’s murder. That would be a travesty.
Detective Dixon scrutinized us for a moment. I got the distinct impression that he was trying not to roll his eyes, while pretending to humor us, instead. Seriously. It was super annoying.
“Okay, okay, it’s time for both of you to leave now. I have work to get done before I go home tonight,” Detective Dixon gestured at the papers lying everywhere.
“Thanks for nothing, Detective Dixon,” Ethan muttered, bitterly, as he stood up.
I didn’t even bother saying anything as Ethan and I left the office.
“Can you believe that guy?” Ethan slammed his fist against the steering wheel of his car in frustration.
We were sitting in the Palos Police Department parking lot with the car off. Both of us were really disappointed with the police’s treatment of the situation. I was sure Detective Dixon was a good cop, but in this case, he was dead wrong.
“Not really,” I said, leaning back into the passenger seat. I needed a nap. It had been a forever long day. “What do we do now?”
Ethan rested his head against the wheel, then turned sideways to look at me in defeat, “I don’t know. What can we do?”
“I don’t know,” I replied back. I didn’t know. I mean, weren’t the police supposed to investigate murders? Why were they ignoring this? I mean, even if we were only one percent on the right track, shouldn’t they at least consider it? They were too busy looking for a heroin ring in Palos. Maybe there was one, but I was betting that in this case the drugs were being sold to someone in particular and that person was supplying and killing these girls.
We sat in the car in silence for a few more moments, the Palos Police Department like a window decoration out the front windshield.
“Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I just don’t want to believe Liz did heroin. Hell, maybe it was her first time ever trying it and it just ended up with her ODing. Maybe we should just leave it alone and let the police do their job like Detective Dixon said,” Ethan looked tired again, as he leaned back against the driver’s side seat.
It was hard to believe that just days ago we’d been complete strangers. Having spent an entire Saturday with Ethan, looking into Liz’s murder had changed things. I felt braver, much braver, “I don’t think giving up is the right thing to do. I think Liz was murdered. Melissa and Olivia too.”
“But the police don’t. They’re the ones that count,” Ethan let out an exasperated sigh, “What are we supposed to do?”
“I don’t know!” I shouted. Yes, I shouted at Ethan Ripley, the most popular guy at school. “But we can’t just give up. I think we have the start of something.”
“I’m tired,” Ethan sounded defeated. “I want to give up. I just have to accept the facts like my family and the police want me to. I just want it to be over. I mean, she’s dead. There’s nothing we can do about it now.”
My cell phone broke off my annoyed retort. We couldn’t give up. It was Anne from the Palos Video Store, “What’s up?”
I listened. Oh shit. I completely forgot about my shift at the store. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes, Anne. I totally spaced. I am so sorry.”
Ethan was staring at me, as I hung up. “I need to get my car. I forgot about my shift at the video store.”
Ethan nodded and started the car. He looked completely drained, “No problem. We’ll be back at my house in five.”
Ethan pulled away from the Palos Police Department and I felt him pulling away from me at the same time.
“But Ethan, what about Liz?” I asked.
He shook his head, “Forget about this whole thing. I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”
I ignored his self-defeatist attitude, “Maybe we should investigate her death ourselves.”
“Like we could make any difference,” Ethan’s voice sounded dull.
I remember how he felt. There was a period after my mom died that I felt the same way. Dull. Nothing mattered, at least not really. Ethan wasn’t right in this case, though. Liz had been murdered! I was completely sure of it!
I wasn’t going to let him get away with blowing Liz’s murder off, “But don’t you want to know that your sister wasn’t a druggie? Even if we can’t convince the police, don’t yo
u want to know?”
Ethan sighed, “I just can’t think about this right now. I’m so tired.”
He couldn’t give up! I told myself to calm down. Ethan was under a lot of stress. He could sleep on it. Besides, I had to go to work and there was nothing more we could do tonight, “Maybe you just need to get some rest. We can talk more about it tomorrow.”
Ethan snuck a glance at me with a resolved look, as he continued driving, “I’m done looking into it. We don’t need to talk about it tomorrow.”
That was a total blow off if I could say so myself. Ethan was basically telling me that he’d used me for what he needed me for and he didn’t need me anymore. And, maybe I was ignoring the fact that he was obviously depressed and for good reason, but I couldn’t help it, I felt suddenly really angry, “Well, you’re welcome. I’m so glad I spent the last two days doing research for you into your sister’s death. Now that I’m convinced that she was murdered, I am so glad you are convinced that she simply overdosed. Fine, leave me with the guilt of knowing that there’s going to be a next victim. Fine, Ethan, fine.”
And, we proceeded to drive back to my car and his house in silence, as we both pondered my statement, each angry with the other.
Thus, I spent Saturday night worried about getting fired from my part time video store job over a popular asshole, who I had spent a perfectly good free weekend day trying to help. I was over an hour late to work and worse than that, Ethan and I hadn’t spoken a word since my rant. Even when we parted ways, he hadn’t said so much as a thank you. So much for the hope that he might say “hi!” to me in the halls when we returned to school on Monday.
Anne was cool, though, about my job. It was the first time ever, that I had been really, really late. Although, she did warn me that I should make sure it never happened again. It wouldn’t. I mean, it’s not like Ethan was going to be distracting me from my responsibilities again or anything.