“But there was alcohol?”
“Well, of course. I don’t really see anything wrong with alcohol in and of itself. It’s been part of humanity since the dawn of civilization.”
“Sure,” said Sam. “But when you say young people, are we talking underage people?”
Merie sighed. “You know, we didn’t police things, but it was never our intention for girls as young as Lola to be there. She seemed very mature. I didn’t question her age. Perhaps I ought to have done so. I don’t know if I could have done anything to halt the awful tragedy of what happened to her family, but, as it was, I didn’t even really have the chance.”
“Right,” said Sam. “So, you’re throwing a party here—”
“Gathering,” said Merie.
“A gathering,” said Sam. “And there are a bunch of teenagers getting wasted.”
“No, it was very subdued. It wasn’t raucous and loud. It was a gathering of like-minded individuals enjoying each other’s company. That is, until Nick started behaving rather badly.”
“How do you mean?”
“I didn’t see how it started,” said Merie. “He and Lola were in the kitchen, and I was in the backyard. But we all heard him yelling at her. And I came inside, because it was my house, and I wasn’t going to have that kind of thing going on.”
“So what was he yelling?”
“Obscenities,” said Merie. “I came into the kitchen, and the two of them were in the corner. He’d backed her up against the wall, and he was calling her every name in the book. Just screaming, you know. ‘You fucking cunt bitch whore’ and on and on. And, of course, that’s not the kind of language that we use in this house when addressing women. Within our religion, the female gender is not denigrated in that way. It was a little frightening too, because he was so much bigger than her. And I remember looking at them, and she was cowering from him, and he was really laying into her. But like I said, he was huge, so I went and got Daryl, who was one of my boyfriends at the time, and he came in and talked to Nick. But Nick really wasn’t calming down, so Daryl told him to leave. He actually escorted him out of the gathering.”
“So Nick left Lola here?”
“Well, no,” said Merie. “I went to try to comfort her, of course, and I was trying to say to her that she probably shouldn’t be with a man who would treat her that way. That she could do better, that kind of thing. But she ended up running out after him. She said that she had to get home, and that he was her only ride. That she couldn’t get home unless he drove her. We couldn’t stop her, so she ran out after him. And then, you know, several months later, it’s all over the news that Nick had killed her parents.”
Sam considered. If Todd was so horrible to her, why didn’t Lola simply tell Sam that herself? Why send him to hear this story? Was she trying to hint that something worse had happened? That Todd had hurt her? And if so, why didn’t she just say that?
“I do remember that I asked her if he was always like that,” said Merie. “And she said he wasn’t always, but that he was sometimes, especially when he was drunk.”
“Did you ever see him act like that when Lola wasn’t around?”
“Not to that extreme,” said Merie, “but I never really thought he was a pleasant person to begin with. I always felt like he only came to the gatherings to get free drinks, not because he particularly cared anything about the Goddess at all.”
“Well, you’re probably right about that,” said Sam. He hadn’t found Todd to be a pleasant person either. “But did he ever strike you as a person capable of murder?”
“Well, obviously not. I wouldn’t have let him into my house if I’d thought that.”
“So, after you heard the news, you were surprised.”
“Oh, very. I never thought that anyone I considered an acquaintance could do something like that.”
“Do you think Lola had something to do with it?”
“Lola?”
“Certainly, you’ve heard rumors. That Lola was the mastermind behind the murders. That Nick only did it for her.”
“I don’t put much stock in that. She seemed like a sweet girl to me. A scared girl. And she was so concerned to get back to her parents’ house. If she hated them so much, why wouldn’t she simply have stayed out all night?” Merie bit her lip. “Of course, I suppose she could have been more afraid of them than him. She certainly was acting out quite a great deal for a twelve-year-old. Maybe there were problems at home.”
“Well, no one’s ever suggested that.” Sam waved it away.
“There was something in her eyes,” said Merie. “She looked so scared. That little girl was a victim of some kind. Whether it was Nick or someone else, I don’t know. She was very afraid.”
*
“Patrick,” Sam said into the phone. “It’s Samson Black.”
“Hey, I thought you got everything you wanted from us last night.”
“I thought so, too. I only have a couple of follow-ups. I wanted to ask you if Nick had a temper.”
“What do you mean?”
“Did he get angry? Did he yell a lot? Did he get into fights?”
“No, not really,” said Patrick. “I mean, sometimes he’d get mad, but everybody gets mad. It was never anything out of the ordinary.”
“Did he get angry with Lola a lot?”
“Are you kidding? He worshiped her. He practically kissed her toes.”
“Did you ever go to a ‘gathering’ at, uh, Merie Dillon’s house?”
Patrick was quiet.
“Patrick?” prompted Sam.
“I guess you talked to Merie,” said Patrick. “She told you about the time she threw him out of the house?”
“She did,” said Sam.
“She tells that story all the fucking time. Every time she tells it, it changes. I was there, but I didn’t see it, you know. But I will tell you this. Whatever went down, it had more to do with Daryl being a dick to Nick than it had to do with Nick being drunk and disorderly, you know? ‘Cause Daryl fucking hated Nick.”
“So, you’re saying Nick didn’t yell at Lola at that party? Didn’t call her a lot of names?”
“Like I said, I didn’t see it. I was there, but I was somewhere else in the house.”
“Then he could have yelled at her?”
“I don’t know, I guess.” Patrick sighed. “What are you getting at here?”
“I’m trying to figure out who Nick was, that’s all.”
“Well, we told you that last night. He was a good guy. He was my friend.”
“I have friends that I wouldn’t want to cross,” said Sam. “I’m still loyal to them, but I know they’ve got buttons I wouldn’t want to push.”
“You’re on Lola’s side, aren’t you? You’re going to write a book and say that my friend was a piece of trash when I know different. It was that damned bitch. She changed him.”
“You’re asking me to swallow something a little hard to believe here, Patrick,” Sam said. “You’re asking me to believe that a twenty-three-year-old man was manipulated by a child. And you’re asking me to believe that he was a boy scout, but that somehow being near this girl turned him into a multiple murderer. Now, if I’m having trouble believing that, how am I supposed to convince an entire audience of it in my book?”
“Because it’s the truth,” said Patrick.
“So Nick never got angry before he met Lola? He never got into fights?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“So he did get angry?”
“What do you want me to say? Okay, he got mad sometimes. When he got mad, maybe he was a little bit scary. But it only ever happened when he was really drunk. And he didn’t get that drunk very often. That doesn’t make him a killer, man. I’m sorry, it just doesn’t.”
*
Lola was sitting in the lobby of Sam’s motel, her legs propped up, computer in her lap. She was typing.
Sam strode over to her. “You’re still here.”
She looked up
at him brightly. “Well, hello to you too.”
“You know, I doubt it’s cool for you to hang out here at all hours.”
“I have a room here,” she said. “And since when is five o’clock ‘all hours’?”
“You got a room here,” he said. “In the hotel I’m staying in.”
She grinned. “The room adjoining yours was booked, unfortunately. But I’m just down the hall. We’re neighbors.”
“Why’d you send me to Merie Dillon?”
“I’m working, Sam.” She turned back to her computer. “Maybe we can catch up later.”
He leaned over to look at her computer screen. “What the hell are you working on?” Then he looked at the screen. But Mr. Vernon, I don’t think your cock will fit in my mouth. It’s too big. He swallowed. “Oh, right. You’re a porn writer.”
“I prefer ‘erotica,’” she said. “It’s harder than you’d think. No pun intended.”
He sat down opposite her. “You told me that he never hurt you.”
She glared at him over the laptop. “Can’t we do this later?”
“Why not just tell me? Why make me go see the Wicca priestess?”
“I really don’t want to talk about this right now.”
“If he abused you, if he called you names, if he yelled at you a lot, then you could have told me that.”
“You would have thought I was lying.”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“You think I’m lying about everything. Everyone thinks I’m a liar.”
He threaded his hands into his hair. “I’m the one on your side, Lola. If he hurt you, tell me.”
She peered around the lobby. “This isn’t the place or the time to talk about this.”
“But it is the place and the time to write about horny babysitters?”
She shrugged. “It’s always time for horny babysitters.” She scrutinized the screen. “Do you think she should squeeze his balls or stroke them?”
He got up. “If you don’t tell me things, this isn’t going to work.”
She giggled. “Not going to work? Are you breaking up with me, Sam? Don’t you want me to stroke your balls?”
He closed his eyes. “Never mind. I’ll go. Have fun with whatever you’re doing.” He started to walk away.
“Sam?”
He turned around. “What?”
“Do you have dinner plans?”
“Lola, you and I are not going to start dating or something, so—”
“Not me,” she said. “I have to write five thousand more words today.”
“Five thousand?” He stared at her as if she were insane. “In a day?”
“I usually do double that,” she said. “Quantity really helps when you’re selling smut. Churn ‘em out, you know.”
Sam had once written three thousand words in a day, and it had about killed him. He thought the fact that he could get a first draft out in three months was pretty fast. Ten thousand words in a day? That wasn’t possible. She was lying.
“Anyway,” Lola continued, “I took the liberty of setting something up for you.” She handed him a slip of paper.
On it was scrolled Stray Cat Cafe, 6:30.
“What’s this?” he said.
“I had some friends when I was in middle school here,” she said. “We were kind of a posse. Anyway, they knew me better than anyone. If you want to know all about me, you need to talk to them. They’re all going to meet you for dinner.”
*
There were three of them. Cheryl, Ariel, and Kristen. They were Lola’s age, but they seemed younger than her. They each ordered fruity drinks that came in big glasses, garnished with things like pineapples and cherries.
Sam sipped his beer and let them gab and giggle. He wanted them to feel at ease. He had to admit that it didn’t seem like a problem for them, though. He was the one who felt out of place, like a fourth wheel.
“Why didn’t Lola come?” Cheryl seemed to be stirring her salad more than eating it.
“I really don’t know,” said Sam. “You’ll have to ask her.
Kristen toyed with the straw in her drink. “Are we going to be in your book?”
“Possibly,” Sam said. “That depends on what you guys have to tell me.”
“What do you want to know?” said Cheryl.
“I want to know about Lola,” he said. “She says you all were friends in middle school. She said you were a posse.”
They giggled.
“I guess you could put it that way,” said Ariel. “We got really close that year before it happened. We had a lot of classes together. We hung out a lot.”
“Did you all have Ms. Fritz?” said Sam.
Cheryl screwed up her face, thinking about it. “What did she teach?”
Sam didn’t quite remember. He thought it was in his notes somewhere, but he didn’t think he had those notes with him.
Luckily, Ariel spoke up. “English. You weren’t in that class, Cheryl. It was me and Lola and Kristen.”
“Ms. Fritz says that your group played lots of nasty tricks on other kids,” said Sam. “That true?”
Kristen’s eyes widened. “That’s what you want to talk about?”
“One of the things,” said Sam.
“Maybe we pulled a few pranks,” said Ariel. “We were kids.”
“I spoke to some of your classmates, kids a few years behind you in school. They claimed that Lola bullied younger kids out of money. That they were all afraid of her.”
The girls all made matching faces of disgust.
“That’s not true,” said Cheryl. “We never picked on little kids.”
“Only the preps,” said Kristen. “They deserved it anyway. They’d been making our lives miserable since the dawn of time.”
“Yeah.” Ariel took a drink through her straw. “They could have stood being taken down a peg or two.”
Sam thought about this. “In other words, you were only retaliating.”
“Exactly,” said Cheryl.
Sam remembered what Ms. Fritz had said about adolescents lashing out at people who ignored them. He wondered if this was the case, or if the girls they’d played tricks on had actually been mean girls. He thought it was unlikely these girls would admit they’d done anything wrong, regardless.
“People say things about Lola,” said Ariel. “But it’s only because of what happened with her parents. They make up stories, because they want to be part of it. It’s more interesting if they say Lola was a bully than if they admit they had no idea she existed until after the murders.”
“Totally,” said Cheryl. “Back in middle school, we were practically invisible. No one knew anything about Lola, and no one cared about her.”
“Except us,” said Kristen.
All of the girls nodded.
“Did you guys know Nicholas Todd?” said Sam.
The girls all suddenly got very interested in their food.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I know she was seeing him.”
Kristen began spearing vegetables with her fork. “We never met him. She didn’t hang out with him at school, you know.”
“We thought she might have made him up,” said Ariel. “Like she was bragging about having an older boyfriend, but there was no way to prove that he was even real.”
Cheryl’s jaw dropped. “I never thought that.”
“Well, I did,” said Ariel.
Sam leaned in. “Did Lola lie very often?”
“Well, no,” said Ariel. “It was only that it seemed really unlikely. But it turned out he existed after all.”
“And what would you say that their relationship was like?” Sam asked.
Kristen shrugged. “I don’t know, we never met him.”
“But she talked about him,” said Sam. “Did she seem happy?”
“Oh yeah,” said Ariel. “She really liked him. She was on cloud nine all the time. She wouldn’t shut up about him.”
“But when this went to trial, and Nicholas Todd claime
d he had a relationship with Lola, none of you said anything,” said Sam. “You helped Lola lie. Why?”
Now it was quiet except for the scrape of silverware.
“Well, no one talked to us,” said Cheryl.
The other two nodded.
“We were twelve,” said Ariel. “Maybe thirteen. It wasn’t as if we could drive ourselves to the police station and tell our stories.”
“Yeah,” said Kristen. “Besides, he confessed. What did it matter if they were actually in a relationship or not?”
“I guess,” said Sam, “that it only matters if there’s any chance that Lola covered that fact up to make herself look less guilty.”
Kristen furrowed her brow. “I thought you were telling Lola’s story. Why are you trying to make her sound like a bad person?”
“So, you don’t think she’s a bad person?” said Sam.
“Of course not. She was my friend,” said Kristen.
Ariel cleared her throat.
Sam turned to her.
“I don’t know how to say this,” said Ariel.
“God, Ariel, you don’t think she’s a bad person, do you?” said Kristen.
Ariel took a drink. “That’s not what I’m trying to say. I just…” She looked around at the other girls. “You remember how Lola complained about her parents all the time?”
“We all complained about our parents,” said Cheryl.
“It was different.” Ariel looked straight at Sam. “They were really strict. They had lots and lots of rules, and they were upset if Lola didn’t live up to their standards.”
Sam raised his eyebrows. This didn’t jive with what Lola had told him earlier. In Lola’s version, her parents were liberal, indulgent types. It also didn’t seem to line up with what Ms. Fritz had said. She’d implied that Lola’s mother was unable to control her unruly child.
Ariel turned to Cheryl. “You remember that time that she made a B in math?”
Cheryl frowned. “Oh yeah. She was really upset about that. She started crying.”
The Girl on the Stairs Page 9