by Laney Monday
“I need to tell you something. Off the record.”
“I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way.”
I laid my hands on the table. “Fine. On the record, then.”
“Go ahead,” he said dryly.
All the more reason I had to say what I had to say. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, and—I love you, Will.”
“What?”
I watched his face. It crumpled a little, frown-like, but then he masked it. A mask. I didn’t even know Will had a mask. A match face, just like me. He must save it for the perps. And right now, I was some perp, getting questioned. I looked away. I felt all my energy, all my willpower, fade away. “I think I love you,” I said numbly. “Not that I know anything about that,” I muttered under my breath.
“About what?”
“Love.”
“What are you doing, Brenna? Do you really think this is going to get you out of trouble?”
“What?” I jerked my head back up.
Will shook his head. “You talked to Carlos. Tell me about that.” All professional again.
I blinked at him, suddenly questioning everything. Who he was. Who I was. What I was doing here. “Right. That’s why I’m here.”
I told him how Lourdes had messaged me. I made it clear that Blythe knew nothing about what Lourdes and Carlos had told me. I told him about the missing clothes and shoes and about Carlos’s scholarship.
My mind was reeling. My heart ached as I recounted every detail, down to Lourdes’s famous green salsa. I told Will I love him. I actually said it. And he didn’t say it back. The thought just wouldn’t stop shooting through my mind, piercing my pride—and worse. I felt it—the urge to slip back into cold competitor mode. I felt so safe there. Powerful. Invulnerable.
But I knew. Something in my hurting heart knew, I shouldn’t go there. No matter how mad I was at Will. No matter how the Disney Princess within had wanted him to cry out, I love you too! I thought you’d never say it! I had to learn how to do this. How to face this. There would be no future for Will and me if I didn’t.
“So, you had something to say about Hayley Radiguet, too?” Will said when I was done.
“I think she had something to do with it. I think she, or she and an accomplice, framed Carlos.”
“Because?”
“Because I overheard her talking to someone about it.”
“When was this?”
“Right before I saw you at Lourdes and Carlos’s house. Right before I came here.”
“And where did this take place?”
“Outside Hayley's apartment.”
Will’s look sharpened. “Hayley Radiguet just moved into a second floor apartment.”
“Yeah, well…I was outside her apartment. The conversation took place inside.”
“How exactly did you come to be outside Hayley's apartment, in a position to hear a conversation that took place inside?”
“Well…”
“Miss Battle?”
Miss Battle! “I was hanging from the balcony, alright?”
Was that just a twinge of a smile? Great. Now he was picturing me hanging there like an idiot. But, at least he was feeling something other than just mad, he was letting Will back out from behind the Officer Riggins Death Mask. And he knew where Hayley had moved, down to the fact that she was on the second floor. “How’d you know she moved, anyway? Have you been keeping tabs on her?” I asked hopefully.
“That’s official police business.”
“Of course.” There was only a teensy bit of sarcasm in my tone, I swear.
“So, tell me about this conversation you overheard.”
I told him. “And I’m sure she was talking about me when she said, ‘But she got out? Someone let her out? Too bad. Well at least that’ll teach her to mind her own business.’”
“Wait. I thought you said that conversation was about Millie.”
“That’s what I thought at first. It was what they were talking about when Hayley said, ‘I’m glad she’s gone. Dead and gone.’ But then I realized they were also talking about me getting shut in the freezer.”
“Shut in the freezer.”
Time for Incredibly Embarrassing Story Number Two. This was just lovely. Absolutely lovely. “Yes,” I said through gritted teeth. “Someone shut me in the freezer at the Cherry Bowl because they didn’t want me finding out who killed Millie.”
I told my story and answered his questions. Finally he said, “Okay, I think that’s all.”
“Are we off the record now, then?”
“Yes.”
“I know you’re going to investigate. I know you’re going to do your best to find the killer. I know it looks suspicious. I know all that stuff about Hayley—I know it doesn’t mean as much as finding out the killer was wearing Carlos’s clothes. but can’t you let Carlos out and keep this quiet until you’re sure?”
Will raised his eyebrows at me. “We found Carlos’s clothes today. In the bottom of his closet. With paint and what appeared to be blood all over them.”
I felt my mouth drop open. Something else dropped like a rock inside me. The clothes were never missing? But Carlos…and Lourdes…why would they come to me? Why would they involve me in this?
“We won’t press charges until we’re ready. But the way things are looking, that’s going to be very soon. Unless there’s some reason to doubt Carlos did it—something more than his word, something more than the fact that we don’t want to believe it—he’s going to be charged with murder. The jury can take it from there.”
“So, Hayley…”
“We’ll look into it.”
I nodded. Could Carlos really have done it? Killed Millie? Maybe it was an accident. But if that was the case, he’d gotten me involved in this mess, and he was hoping I’d find some innocent person to blame. Would he really do that if it was an accident? Try to make one of his neighbors not only take the blame, but go down for murder?
“I know.” The gentle look was back in Will’s eyes. “It’s hard to imagine. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”
I reached out, put my hand on his arm. “I meant what I said before, about how I feel.”
He put his hand over mine. But instead of squeezing it, he carefully pushed it off. “Not now.”
“I just told you—I just—and this is your response?”
“You need to go.” He look at me, and he was all Officer Riggins again.
I gave him a fake salute. “Yes, sir, Officer, sir.”
My match face slipped on. This time I didn’t try to stop it.
21
Blythe threw open the door to our apartment before I could slide my key into the lock.
“Blythe, I’m—”
She held up her hand and shook her head. “Lourdes is here.”
Her message was clear. We’d deal with the fact that I’d been sneaking around, leaving her in the dark, later. Oh, and putting myself at risk. I was pretty sure I’d hear about that one.
I stepped into the tiny living room. “Lourdes?”
From the couch, she waved at me feebly, then blew her nose with a tissue that looked like it had seen a lot of use already. She hiccuped and started to dig in her purse for another one. “I don’t understand. How can Carlos be framed? Why try to pin this on him?”
Blythe handed Lourdes a box of tissues. I sat down beside her. “Lourdes, what if it was an accident?”
“No! He told me, he didn’t touch that ladder! He wouldn’t lie about that. Whoever did this, they sneaked into our house. They stole the clothes. They wore them to kill Millie, and then they put them back in our house.”
“But you said they were missing, after Millie was pushed,” I reminded her gently.
“They were missing then.”
“Okay.” Blythe perched on the edge of the coffee table. “Let’s say someone stole the clothes to pose as Carlos. They killed Millie. Why not return the clothes right away, if they wanted to pin it on him?”
“I don’t know. Why would anyon
e do such a thing in the first place?” Lourdes dissolved into sobs.
Blythe patted her knee, and I slipped my arm around her.
“Maybe they couldn’t get in,” Blythe suggested.
“I don’t know how they got in at all. But it has been so hot. Maybe we left a window open. We tried to be careful, after Carlos found the clothes gone. But maybe we forgot one today or yesterday. He’s my baby brother. My sweet, smart baby brother. How is this happening to him? How can I let this happen? What would Mama say?”
“We’ll do everything we can to figure this out, Lourdes,” I promised.
I half expected Blythe to give me one of her looks, but her compassion won out over common sense and she said, “That’s right. If the police are focused on Carlos, then it’s up to us to do some digging and find out who else they should do a little focusing on.”
“If Carlos doesn’t have an alibi, then that’s probably what it’s going to take to clear him—finding the real killer. We’ll do it, Lourdes. Don’t worry.” That is, if Carlos isn’t really guilty.
“Thank you!” Lourdes hugged both of us. “I guess I should be going. It’s getting late.”
“Do you want to stay here tonight?” Blythe said. “We could get some of your things. Or I could come and stay with you.”
“No, it’s fine. Really. Thank you both so much. I am going to take a bath and try to get some rest before I go see Carlos tomorrow.”
I thought she was probably forgetting her house had been torn apart in the search for evidence. Not that the Bonney Bay PD was disrespectful about it, but I doubted they’d managed to put everything back the way it was. Or maybe she was just ready for some alone time and didn’t care about the mess. Too bad they hadn’t found any evidence of the killer breaking in. But then, they hadn’t really been looking for that. I’d have to mention that to Will. If he was willing to speak to me ever again. Maybe I should go straight to the Chief.
Wait! The killer! If Carlos was telling the truth, then the real killer had sneaked in and out of Lourdes’s house twice. It might not be safe to stay there alone.
“But what about the killer? The killer was in your house. Maybe you shouldn’t go back there by yourself.”
Lourdes smiled weakly. “The police will follow me home.”
“What?” Blythe said.
Lourdes pulled back the blinds and pointed. Sure enough, Adams, the newest addition to Bonney Bay’s police force, sat in a patrol car outside.
“He followed me here. They’re keeping tabs on me. Maybe they think I am involved or that I will try to cover up some evidence. But at least I will be safe.”
“Well, I guess that’s the bright side,” Blythe said.
We gave Lourdes hugs and sent her on her way.
“I need some ice cream.” I went straight to the kitchen and opened the freezer. We still had some mint chocolate chip left. Which reminded me, I had a whole lot to tell Blythe. As I dished out cones for us, I told Blythe about my snooping at the store. And about the freezer.
“Brenna! You could’ve died of hypothermia!”
“Well, you know, I think I could’ve lasted through the night. If you really think about it, the temperature—”
“You. Could. Have. Died.”
“Okay, I could have died, but how could I have known that just asking a few questions would lead to someone shoving me in the freezer?”
“I don’t know, because you were asking questions that might lead you to a murderer?”
“I knew you’d be mad. That’s why I didn’t say anything!”
Blythe glared at me and took a bite of her ice cream. I decided now was probably a good time to shut my mouth, eat my ice cream, and hope the dessert did the trick to put Blythe in a better mood. I was in a real bind now, and so was Blythe. We’d both promised to help Carlos, and we wouldn’t get very far if we were at each other’s throats.
After a while, Blythe said, “I think we need to look beyond Hayley. You’re right, she could still be involved, but don’t you trust that Will Riggins will look into it?”
I gulped at the mention of Will’s name. My heart hurt. I saw a spark of recognition in Blythe’s eyes, saw the concern begin to shape her expression. She could tell something was wrong there. But time was running out. We had to stay on target. What good would feeling sorry for myself do, anyway?
“You’re right,” I said quickly. “Of course he’ll investigate her thoroughly, find out who she was talking to…they have access to the phone records and all that.”
“But if they don’t find anything incriminating, the focus will stay on Carlos.”
“How could they not find anything incriminating!”
“Brenna, everything you told me, it all sounds very suspicious, but it was vague enough, it could’ve been about something else.”
“It wasn’t about something else!”
“But what if it was, and no one finds the real killer?”
“Okay. So we’ll look for other suspects. Where should we start?”
“How about The Engine? You already talked to Millie’s co-workers. What about Marvin’s?”
I wasn’t so sure I was done talking with Millie’s co-workers. In fact, I should probably try to find out who was still in the store when I made that unfortunate trip to the freezer.
“I guess one of Marvin’s co-workers could be the killer,” I conceded.
“Or at least know something.” Blythe looked me right in my eye with what I liked to call the Sister Bear Stare. “Speaking of knowing something, I know something happened with you and Will. Spill it.”
My eyes filled with tears. I looked away, too late. “He’s just mad at me, I guess.”
“There’s more to it than that. Did you guys break up?”
Did we? Dear God, I hope not. “I told Will I love him.”
“You what? You do? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Blythe! I told Will I love him, and it was horrible. He didn’t say it back. He was mad at me, and he got even madder when I told him how I felt.”
“Oh, Brenna.” Blythe pulled me into her arms. “When did this happen?”
“Just now.”
“At the police station?”
I could tell Blythe was trying not to be judgmental with that question. But when she said it, I realized how stupid I’d been.
“Yes,” I said meekly.
“Well, how did you say it?”
“What do you mean?”
“How did you feel right before you said it?” She released me to reach across the counter for a tissue.
I blew my nose. “Scared and—angry. I guess I felt angry, about everything that was happening with Millie’s death, about the fact that Will and I couldn’t agree, that we’d been arguing so much. And I guess…angry even about how I felt about Will.”
“So you were angry that you realized you felt that deeply for him.”
“Yes,” I said weakly.
“You were angry when you said it, right?”
“Well, yeah, but…oh, great. I sounded ticked off. I sounded really ticked off.”
“Maybe he thought you were—”
“He thought I was faking it, or manipulating him. But, I told him, at the end of the interview—I told him I meant what I said about how I feel. And he brushed me off! He literally brushed my hand off of his!”
It wasn’t supposed to work like that. When you finally found a guy worth loving, when you got up the nerve to tell a man you loved him, it was supposed to be a magical moment. His eyes would fill with love too. He’d say the magic words—I love you, too. I love you so much. And then there would be a kiss that made the angels sing. And everything would be perfect. Everything would be right. It would be the beginning of Happily Ever After.
“Why do I always screw that up?” I cried. “It was a disaster, just like last time.”
“You told Will you loved him before?”
“No, of course not. I didn’t even know how I felt about him before.”
<
br /> “Then what are you talking about—‘always?’ ‘last time?’”
My mouth froze, open. Jake. That’s who I was talking about. Blythe’s recently ex husband. I’d had a one-night fling with him before they ever started dating, and I’d never told her. I’d thought I was in love with Jake, my judo coach, for years before I acted on it. Finally, it had seemed like he felt the same way. But I was wrong. So wrong.
“Nothing,” I said.
“I know you, Bren, and it’s not nothing. There was another guy? Another guy you were in love with?”
I couldn’t do this. Not now. I couldn’t deal with relationship issues with Blythe and Will mad at me at the same time.
“Never mind, Blythe. Please, just never mind.”
She caught my eye again. I pleaded with my eyes.
She pressed me into a hug, then let go. “I love you, Brenna,” she said.
She was going to let it go, for now.
22
I poured coffee into Blythe’s favorite mug—the purple, nineteen-eighties vintage one with hot pink hearts all over it. I added her favorite white chocolate creamer and sprinkled cinnamon on top. It was early. Oh, so miserably early. But I smiled at my sister as she entered the small, open living area.
I was the type would would’ve been awfully tempted to give my sister the cold shoulder for a while if she’d kept the kind of things from me that I had from her. Not Blythe. She was a class act. I could tell she was still angry, but that was only because we were so close. She was trying to forgive me, to let go of the hurt of being left out, and to unite with me in my quest to find out the truth. Or, you know, help me get out of the corner I’d painted myself into with the cascade of decisions I’d made after Millie fell off that ladder.
Blythe rubbed her wet hair with a towel and eyed me skeptically. “Thanks,” she said as she took the coffee. She tasted a sip. “This is good. But you’re up before me? Showered? Coffee made? What’s going on?”
I cut to the chase. “After all the kids come this morning, maybe during the snack break, I need to go talk to Helen Rolf.”
She raised her eyebrows at me over the cup. “I thought we were going to start with Marvin’s co-workers.”