“Is this my fault?” I ask.
Jude stops halfway between the TV and my bed. His face is somber. “How could any of this be your fault?”
I don’t know how to answer that rationally, but I can’t shake the feeling that somehow I’m to blame.
“Ren,” he says, and his voice is like a balm to my ragged heart. “Ren.”
“She was my friend, Jude. Forget about everything else. I didn’t want it to end like that. On a fight.” Another fight.
“Shhh,” he says again, sitting on the bed beside me.
He pulls me against his body, and it’s warm. It’s solid. It’s so real. It’s in that moment that I realize how much I need this. How much I need him.
“It isn’t your fault,” he says, “and I’m not going anywhere until you believe that.”
“Then you’re going to be stuck here for a very long time,” I say, my voice breaking on a cry that turns into a laugh. How can I laugh? How is it possible that Jude could bring that out of me? It’s sacrilege.
Before I can apologize, he says, “I can think of worse things than being stuck with you.”
His tone is somber, and I know it’s true. There are far, far worse things. Without saying a word, I know both of our thoughts are on the twisted but beautiful girl whose body has already long grown cold.
Thirty-Eight
Mason
Sheriff’s Office
Tuesday, April 10
3:30 p.m.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, wishing I could forget the worst night of my life. Kopitzke is sitting across the table from me again in the same light-blue cinder-block room as before. I hope it’s my last time in a room like this.
Kopitzke turns on his tape recorder and runs through his standard script about date and time, then he gets to the heart of it. “What happened after you and Lauren found Kadence in the warehouse three nights ago, on Saturday the seventh?” Kopitzke asks.
I take another deep, shaky breath and begin. “Kady was upset when we found her,” I say. Lauren and Jude were questioned right before me. I wish I knew what they said, but I’m not too worried about any contradictions between our stories. It is what it is.
“She was scrambling to, like, look presentable. I don’t think she was ready to be found. She was mad, like she was blaming us for finding her.”
“What did you make of that?” Kopitzke asks.
I shake my head and stare down at the table. My throat feels thick and I try to swallow. Someone has scratched Zeppelin into the wood, and I trace it with my finger. “She was acting weird, but I wasn’t really conscious of any of that at the time. I was just so happy to see her again.”
I look up at him through tears and pray I can hold it together. “I’d convinced myself she was dead. Seeing her again was like seeing a ghost. Seriously. I think I might have been in shock.”
“Let’s back up,” Kopitzke says. “What did you mean, she was scrambling to look presentable?”
Had I said that? This whole thing is so surreal. I shrug one shoulder. “I guess she’d been in disguise. Wearing this wig thing so she could look like a guy when she went out and not be recognized. To buy food or go to the library. Without her makeup.” I swallow again. “And looking like a homeless person, no one knew her.” I gouge at the Z in Zeppelin with my thumbnail.
“Anyway, Jude and Lauren…Obviously, they wanted to call you guys right away and let you know that Kadence was alive, that she’d concocted this whole hoax. But Kadence didn’t want any cops. I think she needed some time to process the fact that we found her. She was really shaken up and wasn’t ready to go home yet. So I told Jude and Lauren that they could go home and that I’d take her when she was ready.” I look up at Kopitzke quickly. “I was going to call you guys as soon as I got her home. I swear.”
“And did Williams and DeSanto go?”
I exhale. “Yeah. They left. I heard both of them drive away.”
“And they didn’t come back?”
“No, they didn’t come back. In the end, I was the only one there for Kady.” I loved her so much. I would have done anything for her. She had to know that. I swallow hard yet again, letting the weight of that statement sink in. Dang it, what’s wrong with my throat? It’s like there’s a boulder sitting in there that I can’t get down.
“I told her I’d stay with her until she was ready to go home. So that’s what we did. Waited. We didn’t talk much. She did say how sorry she was for upsetting people and for getting Lauren and Jude brought into this. She said she didn’t mean for any of that to happen.”
“At some point did she decide she was ready?”
“Yeah. About an hour later, maybe? I helped pack up her things.”
“What things?”
“She had this big garbage bag full of stuff. She had some of her show clothes stuffed in there, the flashy stuff. I don’t know why. There were blankets to stay warm at night and then the clothes she must’ve gotten at thrift stores to pretend to be the homeless guy. Lots of magazines too. I guess that’s how she’d been keeping busy during the days. She had her backpack and her purse too. Not a lot.”
Kopitzke leans forward, and I lean back in my chair. He says, “We found plastic bags from the Kwik Trip at the scene.”
I nod, feeling sick to my stomach. “She’d been buying food there. Nothing good. Snacks mainly. She had some hard candy and some granola bars. I could tell she’d already eaten a couple bananas because the peels were at the top of another bag she was using for actual trash. She offered me some of the granola bars. We ate a couple.”
I stop talking at that point. I don’t want to go any further, but Kopitzke stares at me. Waiting. After a while the silence gets too uncomfortable. I inhale and exhale slowly. “Then all of a sudden her eyes got real big and her face looked weird. It got all red and her eyes started watering. She put her hands around her throat. I was like, ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’
“I thought she was choking at first and tried to do the Heimlich maneuver but nothing came out. I remembered her allergy and searched for the EpiPen but couldn’t find it. That’s when I called 911.” My voice cracks. “By the time anyone found us though, it was too late.”
I shudder at the memory of Kady’s face. She’d been clutching her throat and gasping for air that wouldn’t come. Then the rash broke out and her face began to swell. “I never want to see anything like that again.” My voice is a choked whisper.
“Allergies are nothing to mess with,” Kopitzke says. “We couldn’t find an EpiPen in her things either.”
I shake my head. “I thought it was because I was so scared. My hands were shaking. She usually had it in her purse but it wasn’t there. She was always so careful.”
“There were no peanut ingredients listed on the granola bars she bought, but after the preliminary autopsy came back, we had them tested. The food came back clean, but there were peanut oils on the outside of the wrappers themselves. We think it was an accidental transfer. Most likely someone stocking the shelves at the convenience store.”
“Good,” I say.
“Good?”
“I’m just saying, with the way she was acting and talking, not like herself at all—I don’t think I could stand it if I thought she did it to herself on purpose.”
Kopitzke nods and stands up. I take that as my signal that we are done. Before I go, I have a thought. I scrub my hands roughly through my hair and bow my head. “Do you…do you think if I’d listened to Lauren and called you guys right away when we found her, do you think that Kady would still be alive?” All I can see is Kady’s swollen face at the end. Our last kiss, and then holding her in my arms, sobbing as her body went limp.
Kopitzke puts his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up too much, son. It’s a damn shame, but you couldn’t predict this. If you want, I can talk to your pa
rents about getting you a counselor. We work with grief counselors often enough, and there are a few who are really good with young people.”
“Thanks,” I say. I swipe roughly at my eyes. “I want to go home now. Is that all right?”
“That sounds like a good idea, Mason. I’ll give your parents a call tomorrow.”
When I walk out of the sheriff’s office, I can feel a dozen pairs of sympathetic eyes follow me. I wonder how long people will look at me like this.
Outside, the midafternoon sun bounces off the white concrete sidewalk and into my eyes, temporarily blinding me. I make a visor with both my hands and search the parking lot.
Thirty-Nine
Jude
Sheriff’s Office—Parking Lot
Tuesday, April 10
4:32 p.m.
Lauren and I stand outside the sheriff’s office, waiting for Mason. When they found Kady’s laptop in my dad’s truck at the ass crack of dawn on Sunday, I thought it was going to start all over again. The accusations, the trumped-up charges, Kady upending our lives even from the grave. But then the autopsy results came back late last night and confirmed that it was all an accident. There’s no one to blame, not even Kadence herself. Funny how things work out. And sad. Despite everything. So fucking sad.
Even in my darkest times, I never wished anyone dead. I’m still not sure how Lauren’s handling it all. She hated Kadence in the end. There’s no doubt about that. The girl was a sociopath. But Lauren’s not. They were best friends for years, and that meant that Lauren loved her. Kadence’s funeral is in a couple of days. Lauren said she wants to go. I’ll do whatever she asks. I just want to protect her from all hurt and sadness at the same time.
Kopitzke had the three of us who were with Kady that night come in today for some kind of final interview. He talked to Lauren first, then me, then had Mason go in. Mason’s still inside and his interview is taking longer than either Lauren’s or mine did. Maybe because he was there in that last hour with Kadence before she died.
“Do you think it’s going okay for him in there?” Lauren asks. Her voice is anxious from beside me. Her hand has a death grip on mine where our fingers are interlaced. She’s been nervous all day—for Mason, for me, about everything. But even that is all mixed up with grief. The grief is everywhere for her but wound together with so many other things. As complicated as Kadence herself ever was.
I picked Lauren up on my bike to bring her here. Her dad hates the thing. Doesn’t like me much better, but he can see that Lauren is less anxious when she’s with me.
When Mason finally steps outside, she runs to him. I walk up behind her, meeting them in the middle of the parking lot. I want to know what happened as much as Lauren does.
“I’m fine, guys. Really.” Mason looks rough. He runs a hand through his shaggy hair. He’s usually clean-shaven, but I can see a couple days’ growth. There are bags underneath his eyes. I wonder if he’s slept since it happened.
“No charges, right?” I ask Mason. I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around the fact that—for once—those idiots in the sheriff’s department got it right and believe the truth.
“No.” He breathes out heavily. “No charges.”
Lauren puts the hand not holding mine on his shoulder. “Mason, I’m so glad Kady wasn’t alone. That she had someone who loved her there with her in the end.” She lets go of my hand to give Mason a long hug, then releases him. The guy looks so haggard when she pulls away, just destroyed. Lauren notices too and puts her hand on his arm again. “When was the last time you slept? Go home, get some rest.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” He gives Lauren a wan smile, swiping at his eye with his shoulder, then throws a chin nod my way before heading in the direction of his mom’s car.
I feel a burst of anger at Kadence Mulligan all over again. I know the allergies weren’t her fault, but she dragged Mason through the mud and she did that on purpose. Then he had to watch her die. I bet it’s an image he’ll never get out of his head, and for that, I feel sorry for him.
I feel sorry for Lauren too as she mourns Kadence’s death. As for me…well…I’m no monster, and I do feel sorry and sad. But it’s more in the general way that the loss of life, especially someone so young, hits you.
Could Kadence Mulligan have ever been anything other than a sociopath? Could she have changed? I don’t know. We’ll never know. And that’s what’s really sad—the loss of life’s opportunities.
I search for Lauren’s hand again and lace my fingers through hers. She squeezes back just as tightly.
Forty
Mason
Sheriff’s Office—Parking Lot
Tuesday, April 10
4:45 p.m.
Mom’s car is parked not too far from Jude’s bike, at the edge of the parking lot. She and Dad are sitting in a grassy patch under a shade tree with Annabel and Meredith, waiting for me to be done. As I get closer, Mom smiles that same sad smile she’s been giving me for a week. “All done, honey?”
“All done,” I say, shoving my hands deep in my pockets. I can’t look at them.
“Are you hungry?” Dad asks.
I shake my head.
“That’s fine,” Mom says. “That’s fine.”
I nod and walk to the car, slipping in the backseat. Annabel gets in from the other side and slides to the middle of the seat. Meredith sits on her other side. The girls both reach for me and wrap their arms around my chest. Then they let go and dutifully buckle up their seat belts. I lean my head against the window.
“Let’s get you guys home,” Mom says from the front seat. She glances over her shoulder at me, and just like that, the ghostly memory of Kadence’s voice is whispering in my ear and I’m back in the warehouse three days ago. The night that will forever be on loop in my head.
“That’s it?” Kadence asked after the heavy warehouse door clanked shut behind Jude and Lauren. Then she laughed incredulously. “After all I just said, I’m forgiven, and you want to give me a ride home?”
“Of course,” I said. “You have no idea what it’s been like thinking you were gone forever. It’s been a nightmare.”
“You really are something else,” she said with a shake of her head. It didn’t sound like a compliment. I tried to ignore it.
“So, you’ll let me take you home?” I raised my hand toward her face. It was such a habit of mine to touch her hair. My hand hung in the air.
“Sure, what the hell,” she said with a shrug. It was like I’d suggested watching a movie we’d both already seen. “But I need to pack my stuff.” She glanced around the room. It was strewn with a mix of her bright concert clothes and the old flannel and denim that were just another kind of costume, weren’t they? The two bags beside her camping chair were stuffed with more of each, along with blankets and a fluffy sleeping bag.
How long had she been planning to stay here? I couldn’t believe she’d already lived like this for over a week. How could she have left me to worry for so long? If she needed to get away, why hadn’t she told me? I was the one she could always be honest with. I was the one person who knew her.
But I guess I had that all wrong. I’d never really known her at all.
“Fine,” I said. I picked up one of the garbage bags and it split down the middle, spilling out the sleeping bag and blankets. “Wait here. I’ve got my hockey bag in the back of my truck. We can load it up and get out of here.” And I meant right away because I wanted nothing more than to get out of that dusty rodent motel.
She made a noise that could have been taken as either agreement or disagreement, busy holding up one of the show outfits to her frame, a dress that looked like it came from the twenties, and looking down at herself with a furrow between her eyebrows as she modeled it.
I turned away, again only focused on getting out of there. If I could erase all of the things that Kadence had
said, all that she had confessed to Lauren and to Jude and to me, I would have. I would have washed away all those horrible, disgusting words that poisoned that sweet mouth of hers.
She’d never loved me. It had all been an act. I was just another player on her stage. Naive boyfriend, star hockey player. All our moments together were only scenes to her. With me she got to play the fresh-faced innocent. And I’d let her. She’d given me hope for something better, something that never ever existed.
I’m not really sure when the idea came to me.
It was somewhere between stepping out of the warehouse and arriving at my truck. I wanted to make things right. I wanted life to go back to the way it was before, when life was simple. Life B.K.
I wondered what my little sisters were doing. We didn’t get our tea party in this morning. Actually we hadn’t had one in a while. Maybe I could make it up to them tomorrow. Go back to the way things were.
I flipped down the tailgate and retrieved my hockey bag, emptying out my skates, pads, and jersey. I slung the empty bag over my shoulder, slammed the tailgate shut, then went to the passenger side. My buddy Chad had left a brown paper sack on the floor.
When I opened the door, I was gratified to see that it was still there. I unrolled the top and peered inside inhaling the distinct aroma. I took a deep breath and drove my hand into the bag, bringing out a fistful of peanuts.
I cracked open the first shell and tossed the nut into my mouth, opening the next and the next and the next. They were fat and salty. Substantial between my teeth.
I chewed them slowly and with purpose. I ate a few more. Then I went back to the warehouse.
“You took your time,” Kadence said. She’d fixed her makeup. She almost looked like herself again. “I was starting to miss you.”
“You have no idea,” I said. “The last eight days have been hell.”
She pouted her lips. “Aw, sweetie. I promise. I’ll never put you through that again.”
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