One Little Secret

by Eliza Lentzski

Ryan touched the decoration. “Cute.”

  It was only then I noticed the makeshift altar on the ground in front of the door. Vases of drooping flowers, deflated helium balloons, and unlit candles cluttered the doorway.

  Faith sighed. “I don’t know what to do with this or how long to keep it here. We don’t even allow candles on campus. But I don’t want to seem heartless by throwing all this stuff away. And it doesn’t seem worth it to send to her parents. Are they really going to want dead flowers and shriveled up balloons?”

  I didn’t have an answer for her, so we stepped over the tribute to Kennedy and entered the dorm room. I took a deep breath. Similar to her childhood room, the space looked ready for her return, as if she might walk into the room at any moment.

  I looked around the small room, at the family photographs on the walls and the bookshelves of books I’d never read. The single twin bed was unmade. A wooden desk of cheap construction, probably provided by the university, was covered with textbooks and spiral notebooks. My throat constricted when I saw the notebooks, but I didn’t immediately grab for them. I didn’t want to appear too eager in front of the Hall Director.

  Ryan picked up a well-loved teddy bear from the bed. “What do you think—bag it all up or just take pictures?”

  “It’s not a crime scene,” I noted. “Let’s take a lot of photos, and if there’s something of interest we can bag it up.”

  Ryan nodded his agreement and removed his digital camera from its carrying case. He started to take photos, starting first with the desk.

  “You don’t have to stick around,” I told Faith Newman. I’d nearly forgotten she was hanging out in the hallway. “We’ll probably be a while, processing the room, and I don’t want to take up anymore of your valuable time.”

  Faith looked unsure, a mix of not wanting to leave a resident’s room unsupervised with strangers, but also wanting to be more helpful.

  “We’ll stop by your apartment when we’ve finished up in here,” I promised.

  Her anxiety was fleeting and she nodded, relieved, before disappearing down the hallway.

  As soon as Faith Newman was out of sight, I stormed over to the dorm room desk. I thought I’d struck the mother lode when I saw the tall stack of spiral bound notebooks. I grabbed the top notebook from the tidy stack. I flipped it open, but frowned at the contents. Lecture notes on the reasons behind the American Revolution. A second notebook was filled with math problems. The third included environmental science lectures.

  I hadn’t realized I’d made a noise in my frustration.

  “What’s up?” Ryan asked. “Find anything interesting?”

  I shook my head and returned the notebooks to their original location. “Nope. Just school stuff. You?”

  Ryan was bent over in Kennedy’s closet. I couldn’t see his face. “How many shoes do you girls really need? I’m like knee-deep in boots.”

  “You’re asking the wrong girl,” I remarked. “I own exactly three pairs of shoes. Black, brown, and running.”

  The desk drawers were of no interest. Old magazines, books, and school supplies. I scratched my head as I scanned the room. Kennedy Petersik’s childhood room had been cluttered with journals. Why couldn’t I find a single one in her college dorm?

  “Am I allowed to go in her underwear drawer?” Ryan posed.

  “I don’t know. Are you gonna be creepy about it?” I returned.

  Ryan gingerly pulled open the top drawer of Kennedy’s dresser. He looked as though he expected something to jump out at him. The tension on his face lifted when the drawer was completely open. “Laptop. Jackpot.”

  He pulled the thin silver device out of the top drawer and set it on top of the bureau. Ryan opened the laptop’s lid, but nothing happened. The matte screen remained dark. He pressed the power button, but the computer remained off.

  “The battery must be dead,” he observed. “Do you see a charger anywhere?”

  A few minutes of searching through unexplored drawers produced nothing, so I packed the laptop into a plastic evidence bag. I was confident that Celeste Rivers would be able to power it up.

  Ryan sat down on the twin sized bed. He picked up the well-loved teddy bear again. “If Kennedy Petersik planned on killing herself over fall break, why did she leave all of her stuff here?”

  “We don’t know that,” I contested. “We don’t have an inventory; she might have brought the important things home.”

  “Don’t you think her laptop’s important?” Ryan posed.

  “Then maybe it wasn’t premeditated,” I reasoned. “Maybe something happened at home to upset her. Chase Trask stood her up.”

  He rubbed at his chin. “Yeah, but being jilted by an ex isn’t worth dying over.”

  “What about this story about needing protection?” I posed. “I think that’s worth following up on.”

  “Or Landon Tauer made up that story to distract us.”

  “Do you really think he killed her?” I asked.

  “It’s not my job to think,” Ryan deflected. “I follow leads; I interview witnesses.”

  I shook my head. “You don’t have a gut feeling on suicide or murder?”

  “Guts don’t put criminals in prison. Clues and confessions do.”

  “Landon hasn’t confessed to anything,” I reminded him. “Except for being a dumb kid in high school.”

  “It’s early. Give him some more time to sit with his guilt, and he may start to think about his circumstances differently.”

  We finished up with the photography and evidence collection, but really had only a dead laptop to show for our efforts. It felt like a wasted trip, but I was hopeful the laptop would contain something useful. We stopped back at Faith Newman’s apartment to let her know we’d completed our work.

  “I took the liberty of printing up Kennedy’s course schedule from this semester,” she said. She handed me a piece of computer paper. “Technically I’m not supposed to give out student information, but I figured this was a special circumstance. Maybe some of her professors or classmates can give you more information.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Newman. This is very helpful.”

  It was clear the woman felt badly about not being able to answer our questions about one of her residents.

  I took a cursory look at the classes listed: U.S. History, Applied Statistics, Environmental Science, Creative Nonfiction.

  It seemed quite the range. The creative nonfiction course caught my eye. Maybe her English professor had kept some of her assignments.

  “Do you know what her major was?” I asked.

  “It should be listed at the top of that page,” Faith notes.

  “Undeclared?” I read aloud.

  “That means she didn’t have a major yet,” Faith said. “It’s not too unusual. When students are just starting out we encourage them to try a variety of things to see what they like best. They only have to declare at the end of their sophomore year.”

  “But wasn’t Kennedy a junior?” I asked.

  Faith Newman’s eyebrows punched together. “No. My building is only freshmen and sophomores.”

  She eased the piece of paper with Kennedy’s class schedule out of my hands. “Yep. Sophomore,” she confirmed. She tapped at the top of the page where her GPA and graduation year was recorded.

  The discrepancy had me confused, but I kept those questions to myself.

  Detective Ryan and I thanked Faith Newman once again for her help before heading back to his patrol car. It had started to lightly rain since we’d arrived on campus. Grey clouds blotted out the sun.

  I had Kennedy’s laptop in a duffle bag and her class schedule in my front pants pocket. “How was Kennedy only a sophomore?” I wondered aloud. “She graduated from high school three years ago.”

  “Maybe she took a gap year,” Ryan proposed. His car keys jingled in his hand. “Isn’t that all the rage these days? Kids taking a year off before going to college?”

  “Yeah, but only if you’re wealthy
and can afford to not work.”

  “Maybe she took a year off to work and save up money,” he suggested.

  “Maybe,” I concurred. “But didn’t her parents say she was on academic scholarship? What was the money for?”

  “Pizza and beer? Hey, I don’t know,” Ryan shrugged. “I just work here.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I was resigned to the fact that Julia was never coming back, and I would have to start foraging for food. The fridge had long become empty, I’d exhausted the pantry, and only a few frozen bags of vegetables remained in the freezer. I stopped at the grocery store on my way home after work that day. I was proud of myself for not filling my grocery cart with frozen pizzas and bagel bites. Instead, my grocery bags overflowed with fresh vegetables and fruit. I would have to remember to take a picture of my grand haul later to send Julia. She would never believe my healthy choices otherwise.

  With my arms encumbered by heavy grocery bags, I struggled to unlock and open the apartment door. I could have lightened my load by taking multiple trips, but I was as stubborn as I was economical.

  I dropped my key ring on the floor in the apartment foyer. The various keys bounced and clanged noisily against the marble tile. I retrieved the keys from the floor and paused; I might have been imagining it, but an extra pair of high heels were in the foyer that I hadn’t accounted for before.

  A new noise alerted me from the rear of the apartment. Instead of feeling threatened, however, I was only curious.

  “Hello?” I called out.

  “Back here,” came a voice that sounded uncannily like my girlfriend’s.

  Still lugging the canvas grocery bags, I traipsed towards the back bedroom. I dropped the bags of food in the doorway.

  Julia stood near the bed, which I’d somehow had the foresight to make that day. Her suitcase was open on the mattress. Tidy piles of still-folded laundry covered the duvet.

  “You’re back,” I said with unconcealed surprise. I’d been expecting a phone call later that evening to tell me she’d arrived safely in Embarrass. I wasn’t expecting to actually see her. “Did you decide against seeing your parents?”

  “No. I saw them.”

  “And?”

  Julia sighed and momentarily paused her obsessive unpacking. “And, it was a very civil, cordial visit.”

  I sat down on the corner of the bed. “I can’t tell if that’s good or not.”

  “It’s both. My father and I didn’t fight, but we also didn’t hug it out.”

  “Is that why you’re back?” I guessed.

  “I considered staying on,” she remarked, “but I guess I didn’t really see the point. It will take more than a long weekend for me to forgive my father. Besides, I couldn’t be away from the office for that long.”

  “Or me?” I offered up hopefully.

  Her lips twisted in a painted smirk. “I thought that went without saying.”

  I stared down at the puffy duvet cover. “Yeah, but a girl likes to hear it every now and again.”

  I looked up in time to see the tip of Julia’s tongue appear between parted lips. It darted to lick the center of her top lip. “Come here,” she husked.

  I had no reason or desire to refuse her command.

  Her delicate fingers curled beneath the collar of my jacket. Her caramel gaze traveled up and down my body once before settling on my face. “I realized something while I was gone,” she said.

  “What’s that?” I asked. I willed myself to keep my cool, but her perfume—something spicy and warm—had me melting in my boots.

  “This was the longest we’ve been apart since our first date.”

  I considered her words. Even when we hadn’t lived together we’d seen each other most days—every other day at least. We definitely had never gone without seeing each other for more than four days. It surprised me that the thought hadn’t come to me, too.

  “I didn’t like it,” she told me. Her fingers subtly tightened in my lapel. “I slept terribly.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “So you’re upset your sleep schedule was disrupted?” I teased.

  Her dark eyes narrowed. “Take the compliment, Cassidy. I missed you.”

  My grin widened. “I missed you, too.”

  The fingers under my collar loosened and Julia released her vice-like hold. “Well now that that’s been decided, I need to finish unpacking.”

  “Can’t that wait until later?” I asked with a pout. “I can think of much funner things we could be doing.”

  “More fun,” she corrected.

  “I’ll give you the most fun.”

  “I promise I will give you my undivided attention, as soon as I finish up here. And it appears you have some groceries to put away, too,” she observed. “I won’t be able to properly relax knowing I haven’t put these things away.”

  “I know another way to properly relax you,” I sing-songed.

  She flashed me a look of warning.

  I held up my hands and laughed. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop.”

  Julia continued to dutifully remove clothes from her suitcase and divided them into separate stacks on the bed.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Making piles. Dry-clean only and machine washable.”

  My lips twisted wistfully. “I think my dress whites from the Marines are the only dry-clean only clothes I’ll ever own.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that,” she defended me. “But it’s expected of my profession.”

  “Even as a public defender?” I wondered.

  “Even more so. It gives my clients confidence in my abilities. They don’t want their representation to look like they got their degree from a Cracker Jack Box.” She paused and smiled. “Are you even old enough to know what that is?”

  “Why do you think I’m so young?” I pouted.

  “Have you seen what your lip is doing right now, dear?” she teased.

  I immediately tucked my lower lip back into place.

  “We should do something tonight to celebrate your victory,” I suggested.

  Julia shook her head. “That’s really not necessary,” she resisted.

  “You won your case. A family gets to stay together because of you!” I exclaimed. “That’s not something to casually shrug off.”

  “I’ve had a long day, Cassidy,” she sighed.

  “I know you have,” I conceded. “Which is exactly why you should let me take you out.”

  “I can tell I’m not going to win this one,” she remarked.

  “Not today, Counselor.” I hopped up from the bed with renewed enthusiasm. “Unpacking will just have to wait.”

  Julia still wasn’t all in, so we stayed close to the apartment and walked to a Mexican restaurant only a block away. A line hadn’t formed outside of the neighborhood restaurant, but it was standing room only inside. The hostess was able to find us a table after only a few minute’s wait, but we were squeezed onto a two-top close to the bar and the kitchen. The surrounding area was a chaotic combination of waitstaff retrieving orders from the kitchen and bar patrons taking advantage of half-price margaritas.

  I wanted to, but I couldn’t relax. Getting Julia out of the apartment had taken some convincing, so I felt on edge about bringing her someplace that was overly crowded and uncharacteristically loud. A mariachi band, led by a garishly dressed trumpet player, traveled from table to table, entertaining the crowds with traditional songs. It took at least ten minutes for someone on the waitstaff to bring us water and complimentary chips and salsa. The longer we waited without service, the more aggravated I became.

  I typically didn’t take notice of details like how quickly we were seated or when orders were taken, but Julia’s reluctance to come out had me overly conscious about minor annoyances.

  “Do you want to get something to go?” I asked.

  Julia peered at me over her menu. “Why?”

  “It’s just, uh, a little overwhelming, don’t you think?”

  Julia’s c
aramel eyes studied me with concern. “Is it too much for you? Do you need to go?”

  My legs bounced beneath the bar top table, hidden from her view. I’d been so worried about the environment annoying Julia that I’d completely forgotten about myself.

  “No, no. I’m fine,” I insisted.

  Julia set down her menu. “Then what’s the problem, dear?”

  I marveled at her tunnel vision. Every detail about our surroundings had frayed my nerves, but Julia appeared unfazed and unaffected.

  “Nothing, nothing,” I dismissed.

  “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on with your murder/suicide case,” Julia suggested.

  I wanted to know more about her day—the details of how she’d won her child custody case or why she’d left Embarrass so abruptly—but I was thankful for the distraction.

  “Ryan and I went down to St. Olaf’s today to check out Kennedy’s dorm room. We found a laptop, but no charger. We processed it as evidence, and next it’ll go to the crime lab for analysis. The Petersiks still aren’t allowing us access to Kennedy’s journals, so I’m hopeful there’s something useful on the laptop.”

  “Are you two getting along better?” she asked.

  “Ryan and me?”

  She nodded.

  “We are,” I confirmed. “Some of his tactics still annoy the hell out of me, but at least we’re finally working together as a team and not trying to steal the case from each other or hold back newly discovered evidence.”

  I caught Julia’s attention start to drift. Her eyes were no longer focused on me. Her attention had strayed to an adjacent table where a couple—a man and a woman—sat, attempting to cajole a little girl to take one more bite of her taco. I didn’t take offense to it though. I knew she’d been driving for most of the day and had had a mental battle with herself over her decision to not stay on longer in Embarrass.

  “Amelia’s about her age,” she remarked.

  “Charlotte’s daughter?”

  “Mmhm,” she confirmed. “Such a funny little thing.” A small smile played at her lips. “Obsessed with insects. Wild hair, too. A completely untamable puff of blonde fluff.”