by S. Y. Robins
"How could you?" Joy asked.
"Calm down. Cassandra's cheesecake was the best one." I shrugged. "It was the lightest; it had the sweetest crust, the right amount of crumble..."
Joy scoffed and crossed her arms. "Mine was way better!" She glared at me. "You've been away so long you've forgotten what a cheesecake is supposed to taste like! You wouldn't recognise good country cooking if it hit you in the face!"
"It did hit me in the face, technically. Well, the mouth," I said, and turned to leave. I could still hear the booing of the crowd. Geez, what had Cassandra done to piss off the town's residents this much? I couldn't wait to get out of there if I'm being honest. I left Joy fuming behind me and began to head back towards Mom's bus.
"Allison?" I heard my name, and my heart froze.
I spun around. "Robert?"
He looked me up and down. "I barely recognised you."
I let out the softest of laughs. "Yeah, it's - it's been a while." I gulped and looked up at him. He'd been at least 6'2 when I'd left town; and if possible, he seemed to have grown even taller.
The look on his face was almost impossible to decipher. Was he pleased to see me? Disgusted? Disappointed? "Allison-" he started, but I couldn't bear to hear what he had to say to me.
"I - I have to go," I blurted out, pointing towards the large yellow bus that Mom stood in front of. "My chariot awaits."
"Right."
His face was still impossible to read. There was a lot left unsaid there. I turned and raced back towards the bus, glad to leave the entire fairground behind me. The angry crowd's boos were nothing compared to the resentment I felt emanating from Robert.
2
"Allison!" Again, I was awoken by Mom standing over me, shaking me.
"What is it now?" I groaned, trying to bat her off me. Out of the corner of my eyelids, I could tell it was still dark. What was she waking me up this early for?
"Allison -" her voice was frantic. Almost teary. "Cassandra Templeton is dead."
That made my eyes spring open. "Huh? What?"
"Allison you need to get up."
I sighed. "Can't I just -" I leaned over and checked the time on my phone. It was 4am. "Can't I just get a bit more sleep?" I asked, still in that half-whisper you use when you're up that early, and it feels wrong to shout. "I can't exactly... do anything, can I?"
Mom looked frantic in the thin light of the moon that was streaming in through my flimsy curtains. "Allison - Robert is the one who found the body."
Now I was wide awake. "What? How?" I pushed my blankets off and set my feet down on the cold hardwood floors, searching around for my slippers. "How does he even know Cassandra?" I muttered in my confusion.
I snapped the light on and threw on my dressing gown, tying it around me haphazardly.
"Allison - the police are questioning him - they think he might have had something to do with it," Mom said gravely.
"How do you even know all of this?" I said, yawning. "Geez, this town is so small that news and scandal travels instantaneously."
I walked out of the room and down the stairs, with Mom following behind. "You know that Cheryl's husband works down at the station - she called me as soon as it happened." She was referring to our neighbour Cheryl, who'd lived in the cottage next door as long as I could remember.
"That doesn't seem very professional," I muttered as I entered the kitchen and started to make a pot of coffee.
"Oh Allison, we don't have time for that!"
"I'm still not sure what I'm supposed to be doing to help? You haven't explained that part to me." I turned and poured the coffee, before taking a generous gulp.
"Don't you care that Robert might be a murderer?"
I shook my head, frustrated. "I doubt he has anything to do with it - it was probably one of those loony bakers." I stopped, remembering what had happened the day before. I'd given Cassandra the crown. Which had practically caused the crowd to riot. And now she was dead? I slowly sipped my coffee, a very bad feeling over-taking me.
Mom interrupted the dark thoughts that were beginning to form. "Love, you're an investigative journalist, right?"
I looked over at her slowly, trying to gather a reply that wasn't entirely a lie. "Yes - that's what I'm trained in." Just not employed in.
She walked over to me and placed a hand on my arm. "Then you've gotta help Robert out, love." She took a step back. "Also - according to Cheryl..." She pulled a face and trailed off.
"Yes?" I prodded.
"Well, she says that if Robert isn't to blame, that maybe you are."
"I am!" I was furious. "How can I be responsible? I was here all night." But I put my coffee cup down carefully as the anger drained and I realised she'd only given voice to the same thoughts I was having.
"Well not to blame, exactly, love, but... responsible, maybe." She tried to pull a supportive 'don't worry I still love you, I'm your mother' face. "Love, it really was a bad decision to give Cassandra that title."
I brought my hands up to my face in frustration. "Argh, it is just a blooming Cheesecake Competition! I refuse to feel responsible for this in any way, shape or form." I took a breath and tried to think. All I could think about was Robert being held down town in Curtain Bay Police Station. Did he have something to do with Cassandra's death? How did he even know her? My mind was racing. I remembered what Joy had told me the day before about Cassandra's reputation in town. How did Robert know her? Were they more than just friends?
"Allison, what are you going to do?"
"You know what?" I said, rinsing my mug under the sink. "None of this is my problem. Or my business. So what I'm going to do is go back to bed."
I couldn't sleep of course. Something wouldn't let me, and it wasn't just the coffee I'd stupidly sunk down at 4am. Guilt. That's what it was. I turned over, trying to bury my face, shutting my eyes tight but no sleep would come. I groaned and rolled over, checking the time again.
Should I just get up? What use could I be, anyway? I rubbed my face. Why did this have to happen on my second day back in town? Nothing ever happens in Curtain Bay. Nothing like this, anyway. I rolled flat on my back and stared at the ceiling. Light was breaking its way in and I could make out the stickers I'd stuck up there when I was back in high school. Some old cheesy glittery stick-on photos of Backstreet Boys and N*Sync.
Why did I feel so guilty? I hadn't done anything wrong declaring Cassandra the winner of the Cheesecake Comp, had I? I mean, she'd baked the best cheesecake, fair and square. But maybe I should have listened to the crowd. Read the room, so to speak. Small town life was different from big city life - around here you had to be careful who you made an enemy of. Would someone really kill over a cheesecake though?
I pushed my blankets off and got out of bed, more forcefully this time. And this time I skipped the dressing gown and went straight for the formal suit.
Miss Celebrity Investigative Journalist was going to have to go sort this mess out, once and for all.
By the time I got down to the station Robert was already coming out of it, head lowered, looking forlorn as he stumbled onto the pavement. I hesitated, looking around, wondering if I had time to run and hide before he saw me. This had all been a mistake.
Then I realised I'd travelled down there in a bright, gigantic, yellow school bus, so even if he didn't see me he couldn't miss that.
"Robert!" I called out, before I could think. I straightened my plum-coloured suit jacket down and ran over to where he was standing. "Are you okay? What - what happened? Have the police let you go?"
He looked at me like I was the last person on Earth he wanted to see right then. "Yeah, they can't hold me," he muttered. "It's not like I had anything to do with it."
I grabbed his arm as he turned to leave. "But you knew Cassandra?"
"Everyone knows everyone in this town."
"Robert -" I hesitated. "What do you think happened then?"
He looked up and down at my suit and I suddenly felt self-conscious to
be dressed like that - it was such a contrast to his blue jeans and blue V-neck sweater. Did I just look alien to him now? After all this time that had passed?
"Why don't you go ask those crazy people from the cheesecake competition?" he stated. "I can guarantee they had something to do with it." With that, he turned and walked away.
I sighed. That's just what I had been afraid of.
"Come on in dear," Gary Sherman said, stepping aside and gesturing for me to join him in his living room. "I've just boiled the kettle for a pot of tea - would you like some?"
I nodded and took a look around his house, which was decorated festively with various nick-knacks and antiques. The house was more of a tin shed, really, the kind that were built for next to nothing in the 1940s during the war, though the interior must have been renovated since then. The paint was white and fresh.
"I haven't seen you since - geez, I don't remember," Gary mused, returning with the tea. "Well, since I taught you last, I guess!"
Gary – Mr. Sherman as I remembered him - had been my English teacher during my senior years in high school. The last time I'd seen him would have been the same day I'd last seen Robert. The last day I'd seen anyone in this town.
He picked up a biscuit and started nibbling on it. "It's such terrible news about Cassandra... I still can't believe it."
I took a sip of my tea and put it back down. "Sorry to even bother you about it Mr. Sherman."
"Oh dear, you can call me Gary now, surely!" He laughed. "I'm retired now, anyway. That was all a long time ago." It really was. He continued. "And you're not bothering me anyway. I know you're a big journalist now - I suppose your covering the death, are you? That's kind of your speciality, isn't it?"
I nodded. "Writing a story," I lied. "It's big news. Woman turns up dead the day after she is crowned the winner of Curtain Bay Cheesecake Competition."
Gary nodded. "Some people really do take that silly competition very seriously. I was just pleased to place fourth." He let out a small laugh. "Just a fun way to pass the time." He looked me over. "Must especially seem like a silly competition to you. Now that you've moved away."
I shrugged.
"So how is your career going dear?" He asked, offering me a biscuit.
I shook my head, to say no thanks. "It's - it's going fine. Great, actually."
"Chased any big stories recently?"
I giggled nervously. "No big ones lately. Just been keeping quiet."
I was desperate to change the subject. I felt like I was letting Mr. Sherman down. He'd always pushed me to write, when he'd been my teacher. Said I was his star pupil. I didn't want to tell him what had really gone down.
"So, you didn't see or hear anything yesterday?" I asked. "Was there anyone you think might have held a grudge? Did you notice if anyone was particularly upset?"
He hesitated. "Oh, I don't like to say dear. I'm sure it was nothing."
"Go on."
"Well, that young girl, your friend, Joy."
"Old friend," I corrected. "She was furious about being second place."
I tried not to look too concerned. Though that had been my suspicion as well. "Did you hear her say anything?"
He made a face. "Well," he said, laughing nervously. "She did say she was going to 'kill that Cassandra’. And then she said..."
"Yes?"
"She said she was going to kill the judge." He pulled an apologetic face.
I sighed. Great.
"Hey," Joy said, pointing out the bus window as we passed an old run-down cabin on the side of the cliff above the ocean. "Do you remember that old place?"
I glanced out to where she was pointing, trying to keep my focus on the road. I almost had to laugh when I spotted it, despite the gravity of the situation we were in. "Sure." I let out a small laugh as I remembered. "We all thought it was haunted...?" I turned toward Joy slightly, with a questioning expression.
"We thought maybe a witch lived there!" She burst out laughing as well.
"I think we came up with every explanation possible about that place." I looked through the rear view window as the old dilapidated place faded into the background.
"Well what other explanation for that place could there have been?" Joy asked. "No one ever lived there - as far as I can remember, twenty-nine years. And every time someone did go there..." She raised an eyebrow.
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah. They would come away 'cursed'." I kept both hands tightly gripped on the steering wheel. The haunted cabin was one of Curtain Bays' greatest legends. The stupid thing was, that people actually believed it. Not that I ever had. And I certainly didn't now! That said - I'd never exactly been brave enough to go anywhere near it.
I shook my head and remembered the reason I had Joy with me in the bus. "Joy - can I ask, where were you last night?"
She brought her head away from the window and turned to stare at me. "What? When Cassandra was killed?" She raised an eyebrow. "Are you asking if I had anything to do with it?" I could feel her eyes search over my body, and I again felt self-conscious about the suit I was wearing. "What, are you writing up one of your big stories or something?" I could hear the eye-roll in her voice, even if I couldn't see it.
I chose my words carefully. "You know Robert is a suspect."
She scoffed. "Why do you care about that?"
"I still... I still care about him. I mean, enough to not want to see him get convicted of murder."
"Well you can't have cared that much seeing as you left him here, on our last day of school. So you could go off and be a fancy journalist."
There it was again. That feeling in the pit of my stomach. Guilt. But not over Cassandra's death this time.
"Thanks for the lift," Joy said, climbing out in front of her house. I took a quick eyeball of the place. The house itself seemed neat and tidy but I noticed the front lawn was overgrown. She lived away from the ocean, out from the main part of town as well, in the less touristy, less expensive part of town.
I decided to climb out after her, hoping she might ask me to come inside. After all, I still hadn't gotten any info out of her. If she didn't have anything to do with Cassandra's death, she shouldn't have had any trouble telling me where she'd been the night before.
No such offer was forthcoming. "Well," she said, turning. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow, I guess."
"Tomorrow?" I was confused.
"The re-match of the Cheesecake Competition."
I groaned inwardly. Why was I being punished like this? If only I'd chosen a different winner.
Deciding to be blunt, I blurted out. "So is that why you did it then? So that we'd have to have a re-match? So that you could win?"
She rolled her eyes. "You think you know everything these days, don't you?"
"Not everything. But I know you had the biggest motive for killing Cassandra."
"Yeah, well, I was down at the bar last night. You can ask anyone who saw me there." She shot me a look.
I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest. “Joy, I just want to know what happened. I'm not... accusing you. I'm just doing my job."
She softened, slightly. She took a step closer to me and lowered her voice, almost to a whisper. "You do know where Cassandra was found, don't you?"
I shrugged. "Out down near the ocean. So?"
Cassandra shivered and looked around, before turning back to me with a raised eyebrow. "She was found right outside of that cabin... the Witch's Cabin."
"Joy that's ridiculous." My tone was flat and I cocked my head to the side.
Joy shrugged. "Is it?" She turned and looked far away into the distance, in the direction of the sea. "I always knew there was something creepy about that place."
3
The drive back to Mom's house took me straight back past the so-called haunted cabin. ‘The Witches Cabin’ we had called it when we were all in fifth grade. Obviously, it all seemed ridiculous now that we were grown up - and especially now that I had spent twelve years away from Curtain Bay. Geez, this
town could be so damn superstitious - imagine, being twenty-nine years old, like Joy was, and still thinking the place was cursed.
Still, I felt a chill go through my body as I sped past the decaying cabin, as quickly as I could without driving the bus off a cliff. I told myself the chill I'd felt was down to the power of suggestion. Plus, the fact that someone had apparently died right out front the previous night. That was enough to send a chill down anyone's spine.
My intention had been to drive back home and try to take a break from the entire thing - maybe get some rest before the dreaded cheesecake rematch the following day -, but I found the bus drifting not up the hill to my old house, but down the hill in the other direction. Towards Robert's old house. Not that he'd still live there, I told myself.
Still, before I could psych myself out, I parked the bus and climbed out, slamming the door behind me. I think I was trying to give forewarning of my arrival - to allow whoever was inside the dignity of at least pretending they weren't home, once they saw it was me.
My hand was poised to knock, when the door was pulled back. Robert stood there, with that same ‘I can't believe it’s you’ expression on his face. He sighed. "Allison, what do you want?"
"Oh - I-" I looked around, peering behind him. "You still live here then? You still live at home?" I accidentally pulled a face. Not that I should be judging. After all, I'd just moved back home myself. But I'd at least moved away. Robert had stayed put in the same house for thirty years by the looks of it. I tried to quell the judgemental thoughts, but they raced through my brain. Did his Mom still do his washing for him? Cook all his meals? Pick his clothes out for him in the morning?
"Yeah, I bought this place off Mom and Dad when they moved away," he replied flatly.
"Oh."
"Did you want something?"
I reached into my bag and pulled out a pen and notepad, trying to make it all look official. "It's just that I'm writing a story about what happened...it started as just a story on the festival, but now it's taken on, um, something of a more interesting turn..." I smiled, trying to pull an apologetic face. He remained stony, unmoved. Oh my God, he really was not happy to see me back in town. Could I really blame him?