Hidden Pieces

by Paula Stokes

  Returning to my phone, I type: You can see me?

  Unknown: Maybe. Or maybe I just know you.

  Me: Well know this. It IS over. I refuse to play anymore. You win, for now. But the cops will find you eventually.

  Unknown: This isn’t a game. Games are fun. You think this has been fun for me? This is payback. Your choices hurt people. And we’re not done.

  Me: Fuck you. We’re finished.

  Unknown: We’re finished when I say we’re finished. You think I can’t get to your mom or your friends before the police get to me? Willing to bet their lives on that?

  Me: Why? Just stop. Luke is dead. Why isn’t that enough for you?

  Unknown: Because you haven’t suffered enough.

  I beg to fucking differ. Tears are raining down both of my cheeks, and I don’t even bother to wipe them away. I lost my best friend, almost lost my mom. Now Luke is gone because some psycho has a vendetta against me and nothing will ever feel okay again.

  Me: I’ve suffered plenty. I’m going to tell the police everything. I’m going to help them track you down. You’re going to pay for what you did.

  There’s a long pause. I hope it’s because Unknown is starting to realize their time is running out, that I’m serious about the cops closing in on them.

  Unknown: You’re really going to tell the truth?

  Me: Yep. I can’t wait. In fact, maybe I won’t wait. Maybe I’ll tell the whole town tonight at the Christmas Eve party.

  Unknown: You don’t have the guts.

  Me: You don’t know me as well as you think you do.

  Unknown: Maybe I don’t. I dare you. Go to the party and stand in front of the town and tell them what you did that night.

  Unknown: If you tell them everything, then I’ll turn myself in.

  Me: Why would you do that?

  Unknown: Because I need for this to be over too.

  Me: Why should I believe you?

  Unknown: Because I haven’t lied to you yet, have I?

  Me: You tricked me into putting my best friend in danger. I did what you wanted and you tried to kill her anyway.

  Unknown: Frustrating, isn’t it? The feeling that no matter what you do, someone is going to get hurt.

  I don’t reply right away. It has been frustrating. Unknown has given me impossible choices, or at least that’s what I thought, anyway. But the truth is, there’s been one right choice the whole time—the choice to confess everything about what happened at the Sea Cliff, to take responsibility, to tell the truth. I didn’t want to do that because it would hurt my mom and Holden and Julia and sure, it would hurt me too. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t the right choice.

  Unknown: See you tonight.

  Me: Are you going to be there, at the party?

  Unknown: I wouldn’t miss it.

  Me: And you’ll turn yourself in after I do?

  Unknown: I’ll turn myself in, IF you do.

  Me: Good. I want to look you in the eye as the police drag you away.

  Brushing the tears from my cheeks, I grab my jacket from the back hallway and lock the front door of the shop as I leave.

  I have a Christmas Eve party to get ready for.

  Thirty-Four

  WHEN I GET HOME, I let Betsy outside to do her business and then refill her food and water. Ducking into my room, I try to figure out what I should wear. I settle on a pair of black dress pants and a dark gray sweater. Seems appropriate for my funeral.

  My eyes well with tears as I realize Luke will be having a real funeral soon. It’s wrong to think of the shame and humiliation I’m going to face as death when Luke is actually dead because I didn’t come forward sooner. Yes, I’m going to confess to a crime and put my family hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt. I might even go to jail, but I won’t be gone forever, like he is. I flip through some pictures of him in the gallery on my phone. “I fucked up so bad,” I say. “You deserved better than me.”

  As I set down my phone, I see what time it is. Shit. I forgot I had to pick up my mom from the hospital. I can’t imagine driving when I feel like this. I grab my phone again and call Holden.

  “I have a favor to ask you,” I blurt out when he comes on the line. “Is there any way you can pick up my mom at the hospital? I told her I would get her at five-fifteen, but I’m not in any condition to drive. Actually, maybe wait and get her a bit later. If you can stall her so you don’t get back to town until a little after six, she won’t have to see what I’m going to do at the Christmas Eve party.”

  “I can get her,” Holden says. “If you’re sure she won’t mind riding with me. But what do you mean you’re not in any condition to drive? And what does the party have to do with anything?”

  I want to respect Frannie’s wishes not to share the news about Luke, but this is too much to keep inside me. “Luke is dead,” I say, my voice hollow.

  “What? What do you—”

  “He’s dead, Holden. Unknown wins. And now the only way for me to end this is to tell the whole truth tonight, in front of everyone. I have to. I can’t let anyone else die. I’m sorry if this messes things up for you with the fire and—”

  “Fuck the fire,” Holden says. “Fuck the money. I don’t care about that. They can’t take from us what we don’t have. But what do you mean Luke is dead? Are you sure?”

  “Unknown texted me a picture of Luke’s dog tags. I could read his name on the metal.”

  “So maybe it’s Photoshopped. Or maybe Luke is Unknown.”

  “No, that’s not possible,” I say. “Unknown killed him.”

  “Be reasonable, Embry. I thought you said he didn’t come home. How could a text stalker from Three Rocks, Oregon, get to Luke in Afghanistan?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “His own sister verified it, though. Frannie doesn’t know the details yet, but she said the army brought her parents a folded flag. Maybe he did come back here and no one knew about it, or maybe, somehow, Unknown just got to him. I don’t know. I mean, fuck, Holden. What about the past week has been reasonable?” I swallow back a sob. “I just wanted you to know I was going to tell everyone the truth. So that way you could be prepared.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to just go back to the cops and tell them the whole story?”

  “No. I’m done taking the easy way out. Plus, Unknown says that if I confess in front of the whole town, they’ll confess too.” My voice goes hoarse. “I need for this to be over, Holden.”

  “And you trust Unknown?”

  “Not really,” I say grimly. “But I have to do this either way.”

  “Okay,” Holden says. “Tell your mom I’ll pick her up at five-thirty. I can take the motorcycle to Tillamook and borrow my mom’s car from the station parking lot. I’ll show up ten minutes late and do my best to stall your mom so we don’t get back here until at least six. And I’ll be around later if you need to talk.”

  I hang up with him and call my mom’s cell. She answers on the third ring. “Hi, Mom,” I say in an artificially bright voice. “Slight change of plans. There were a couple last-minute customers, so I’m running a little behind and I’m sending Holden to come pick you up.”

  “Not on the motorcycle, I hope,” Mom says.

  “No, he’s going to come in his mom’s car. He should be there by five-thirty.”

  “That’s cutting it a little close for the Christmas party. Are you still trying to get out of going?” Mom asks teasingly.

  If you only knew.

  “Oh no, I’ll be there,” I say. “I’ll save you a seat.”

  As I hang up the phone with my mom, my eyes fall on the Shutterfly photo book again. I want to reach out to Julia, to remind her she’s gorgeous and that she shouldn’t be taking internet diet pills. But I don’t feel like I have the right to contact her. I should give her space, let her come to me if she wants to be friends again. Grabbing the book, I skim through the pages, my eyes taking in the two of us in our prom dresses and at the swim meet. I pause on the picture o
f Julia and me at Cape Azure State Park with her father. Something about this photo bothers me, but I’m not sure what. I scan it left to right, top to bottom, looking for anything I might have missed when I first glanced at it.

  I swallow back a gasp as I reach the bottom of the photo. Julia is wearing a pair of pink-and-gray boots, the hot-pink laces double-knotted and wrapped around her shins. I’ve seen them online.

  They’re Rendon hiking boots.

  Thirty-Five

  I TELL MYSELF it doesn’t mean anything. It’s like Katrina said, lots of people wear Rendon boots. Still, a prickling sensation at the nape of my neck reminds me that Julia has the most motivation to be Unknown. I call her on the phone, unsure of what I’m going to say. I just want to hear her voice. If she just talks to me, I’ll know there’s no way she’s Unknown. I’ll be able to feel it.

  I get her voice mail. Unfortunately there is no reassurance in her perky greeting. I hang up without leaving a message. I think about texting Holden, but he’s probably already on the way to pick up my mom.

  “I guess if it’s her, I’ll find out soon enough,” I mutter. But it can’t be. It just can’t. In the same way my brain won’t envision a future without Holden, it also can’t comprehend a present where Julia would have killed Luke just to punish me.

  Grabbing my keys, I head out the door.

  The holiday party takes place in the gymnasium of the Three Rocks Community Center, which has been transformed into a winter wonderland, at least for today. The walls are covered with silvery snowflake cutouts and the doorways are all trimmed with ropes of red-and-green garland.

  There’s an elevated stage at one end of the room, with a giant screen behind it. Mrs. O’Riley uses the screen to make digital backgrounds for the nativity play instead of painted sets. My heart revs up as I imagine myself standing up on that stage, telling everyone the truth. People say you’re supposed to envision success in order to cut down on your anxiety, but all I can envision is shocked silence. And then scorn—lots and lots of scorn and shaming, with the whole town filming away on their iPhones. I should feel terrified, but all I feel is numb. Maybe it won’t be as bad as I think. Maybe it’ll be cathartic.

  The room is already about half full, even though I arrived fifteen minutes early. I take a seat in the very back on the aisle. A handful of people wander up to me before the festivities start, asking about Luke or congratulating me for my heroism the night of the fire. Each time someone mentions Luke, my insides twist a little more.

  Most of my classmates aren’t here, since Tillamook has its own holiday festivities, but there are about fifteen kids I know from school in the audience, including Holden’s friend Zak and Katrina Jensen. I don’t see Julia or her parents anywhere. I wonder if she’s going to stroll out of the darkness at the back of the room to hear my confession before offering one of her own. I still don’t believe that Unknown could be Julia. I would know if she hated me enough to try to kill my mom, to kill Luke. There’s no way she could keep that kind of emotion a secret. There’s no way she would do that to me.

  I keep an eye on the doorway, grateful for each minute that passes without my mom and Holden arriving. I know they’re going to hear about this, but I’d rather neither of them personally witness what’s about to happen.

  At six p.m. sharp, a spotlight appears front and center on the stage. The mayor makes his way up the side aisle and steps into the circle of light. He taps the microphone twice. “Happy holidays! Welcome, people of Three Rocks and neighboring towns,” he starts.

  I shift in my seat. Aside from Katrina, who probably came from work, and possibly one Baby Jesus from Tillamook, I seriously doubt any out-of-towners have shown up. I know the names of 70 percent of the people in this room. I bet all of them know Luke’s name. Lucas O’Riley, hockey player, lifeguard, soldier, Three Rocks hero. When I tell them I was at the Sea Cliff with another guy, most of the women will probably hate me just for that, for having someone so decent and good and not being satisfied with him.

  “It’s my great pleasure to see so many of my constituents gathered together to celebrate the holidays,” the mayor continues. “I know the kids here in Three Rocks really enjoy putting on the nativity play each year, and I was watching last night’s rehearsal. Let me tell you that you’ve got a heck of a show coming tonight.”

  You have no idea, I think.

  The mayor glances out over the crowd. “But before we start the play, as is the local custom, I’ve got a few special people I’d like to honor with our official Three Rocks Rocky Awards.”

  The crowd claps politely. Phones light up in the audience, ostensibly to take pictures but more likely to check Facebook or email. If only everyone would tune out for my little presentation. I tap one foot nervously. The mayor starts by calling up an elderly Three Rocks woman who rescued a baby who was left in a hot car in Tillamook back in August. The woman broke a window with her cane and then called 911. I dig my nails into my palms as the woman shuffles up to the stage to receive her award. The crowd claps again.

  Next the mayor recognizes our local Girl Scout troop for having a fall fund-raiser to support starving kids in Yemen. The scout leader and two of the scouts make their way to the stage to accept the award. One of the Girl Scouts asks for the microphone. She reads some statistics about the war in Yemen and how it’s affecting millions of people, including hundreds of thousands of children. She ends by asking for a donation for another fund-raiser. People in the front rows start reaching for their purses.

  The mayor clears his throat. “And then our final Rocky Award winner of the night, Embry Woods, who helped a man escape the fire at the Sea Cliff Inn. Embry, come on up!”

  I stand and head for the front of the room, my heart pounding so hard that I’m afraid I might pass out before I get to the stage. Actually, that might be preferable to what’s about to happen. Just get it over with. Right. All I have to do is stand up and look out at over half the town, tell them I’m a liar and a criminal who slept with the guy my friend was dating while my own boyfriend was off risking his life for our freedom, and now that guy is dead because of me. Then everything will get better. Or something.

  My stomach feels like it’s full of wriggling worms. All I can do is give the mayor a tight-lipped smile as he hands me the trophy. I’m pretty sure if I open my mouth I’m going to vomit right here all over the stage. It’s about a million degrees under this spotlight, and my entire body is suddenly wet with sweat. Then the door to the community center opens and a cool breeze blows through. People in the audience cross their arms and tuck their hands into their pockets, but to me it feels heavenly. I crane my neck to see who’s arriving late. Is it Unknown? Is it my mother? I can barely make out the silhouettes of two people walking up the aisle.

  For a brief instant I consider fleeing—pushing past the newcomers and running for that open door, running all the way to some other town where I can start over. But I can’t do that to my mom. I can’t do it to anyone else Unknown might punish for my cowardice. Taking a deep breath, I turn to face the mayor. Here goes nothing. “Can I say something?” I ask.

  “Of course.” The mayor gestures out at the crowd.

  I take the microphone from his outstretched hand and look out at the audience. It’s like a firing squad made up of moms and small children. Fuck, this is going to be a nightmare. Just when I think things can’t possibly get any worse, I realize it was my mom who just arrived. She’s standing in the side aisle, and she’s not alone. She’s with a man I’ve seen before—a man in a brown bomber jacket. He’s not wearing the baseball cap tonight, and I recognize him immediately.

  It’s my father.

  Thirty-Six

  I LOOK AWAY FROM my parents and my gaze falls on Lourdes, my mom’s best friend. Nope, not looking at her either. I try again. Katrina Jensen eyes me curiously, her thin lips folded into a smirk. Strike three. I train my eyes on a spot on the floor a few feet in front of me. “Here’s the thing,” I start. “I’m not a
hero like these people.” I gesture at the woman with the cane and the Girl Scouts. “They did really great things. Brave things. I didn’t. The reason I went into the Sea Cliff that night wasn’t to save a life. It was to keep from ending one.” I take a deep breath. “I’m the one who started the fire.”

  The crowd murmurs. I scan the shocked and disapproving faces, searching for Unknown. Come on, where are you? You promised you’d be here. The spotlight on me seems to increase in intensity. I glance up at the AV booth, wondering if whoever is running the lights and sound is some kind of sadist. The mayor’s face reddens. He reaches for the microphone, but I’m not done. I set the Rocky Award down on the podium. “I don’t deserve an award. I deserve to go to jail. I sneaked into the Sea Cliff to meet a guy. We had candles. We were drinking. I didn’t start the fire on purpose. I knocked one of the candles over when we were messing around. I know what I did was a crime, and I know hiding it was an even worse crime. I’m sorry,” I finish miserably. I chance a look at my mom. Her face is a mix of sadness and sympathy. “I’m going to turn myself in to the police.”

  I hand the microphone back to the mayor. He’s still flushed. “Well,” he says. “Thank you for your honesty, Ms. Woods.”

  Just when I think things can’t get any worse, the video of Holden and me from that night starts to play on the giant screen behind the stage. The two of us are on the sofa. We’re kissing. I’m sliding my jeans down to my ankles. Parents cover their kids’ eyes. My face burns as the mayor lifts a hand to his mouth. I spin around and look up at the AV booth again. There’s a shadow at the glass, watching me. Unknown.

  The mayor hollers for someone to turn off the recording. On the screen, Holden and I are going at it now. My foot hits the table and the candle falls to the floor, igniting the carpet. There’s a collective gasp from the crowd. I can’t believe Unknown felt the need to play this video. This wasn’t part of our deal. I look up at the AV booth one more time. The silhouette is gone.