All Unquiet Things

by Anna Jarzab

  “There doesn’t seem to be any better explanation. The Bean knew where to get Special K—I read on the Internet that it’s sometimes used as a date rape drug. Carly didn’t know who gave her the drink that knocked her out. Her entire memory of that night was erased.”

  “I’m confused. Did she tell you about the rape?”

  I paused. “No. I found a diary when I was going through some of her stuff. She wrote about how she felt the next morning. She wasn’t sure at first.”

  “But she didn’t say who did it?”

  “I don’t think she knew. But I think she figured it out, or remembered it, the night of Lucy’s party. I think she realized what the Bean had done to her, and what he had done to Laura Brandt—”

  “Wait, who’s Laura Brandt?”

  I summarized the situation briefly. Cass let out a low whistle. “I can’t believe that Adam would tell the Bean to kill her.”

  “He beat the shit out of the Bean just for telling everybody about his feelings for Carly,” I pointed out. “You think he wouldn’t do whatever he could to protect his operation?”

  “Well, yeah, he’s big on covering his own ass, and he’s got a bad temper, but murder?”

  “I don’t necessarily think Adam sent the Bean to kill Laura. I have this theory that he was doing it on the orders of Adam’s partner, that guy Barton. You sure you don’t know anything about him?”

  Cass shook his head. “Only what I told you.”

  “Well, the Bean had been kicked out of the gang and had lost his drug connections. Maybe he was trying to get on Barton’s good side by taking care of the Laura Brandt problem himself.”

  “Yeah, maybe. You seriously think that the Bean is smart enough to pull all this off?”

  “It’s the only scenario that fits.”

  “So what are you going to do about it?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t really prove it. I can go to the police with the letters, but even given the Bean’s record there’s no way of being positive that they were from him—unless they have his fingerprints on them. My hope is that I can gather enough evidence to convince the police, and that when they question the Bean he caves and confesses.”

  Cass sighed. “It sounds like you’re getting into some dangerous territory, Aud. If this Barton guy had Laura Brandt and Carly rubbed just to keep his operation under wraps, what makes you think he won’t come after you once the Bean is picked up?”

  “Maybe I can get police protection, or hire a private security detail.”

  “What, you’re going to get armed guards to follow you to school and sit in on your classes?”

  “If it keeps me safe.”

  “You always have a plan.” He glanced at his watch. “Look, I’ve got to go, but call me if you do anything. I want to be there with you when this all goes down, okay?”

  “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I watched him go down the stairs and walk toward his car and it hit me: Neily was never going to get a second chance with Carly. I would be a fool to give up my second chance because of pride or hurt feelings. I got up and chased after him.

  “Cass, wait!” I called. He turned around and smiled.

  “What? You gonna tell me where Jimmy Hoffa is buried?” he asked as I reached him.

  “Not exactly.” I leaned into him and put my lips to his. A shiver went up my spine as we stood on the lawn, kissing and pulling away and touching and kissing again. My mind seemed blank and all I could remember was how happy this had once made me. We stood there for what seemed like forever as the last rays of late-summer sun burned out at the horizon.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The sun had gone down and Cass’s bedroom had grown chilly. I switched on a lamp on the nightstand and went to the bureau across the room to dig through his drawers for a pair of socks. I rummaged around, pushing aside a couple of belts and a bunch of handkerchiefs that were embroidered with his full name: Casper Barton Irving.

  “Barton?” I said aloud. It occurred to me that during my entire relationship with Cass, I had never known his middle name. He wouldn’t tell anyone what it was, he claimed that it was embarrassing and he hated it. I told myself it was just a co-incidence that his middle name was the name of Adam’s psychotic business partner, but I don’t believe in coincidences. I dropped the handkerchiefs and kept going through the drawer; a moment later, my hand brushed against something heavy and metal. I reached in and wrapped my fingers around the cold barrel of a gun.

  I pulled my hand away as if burned. What was Cass doing with a gun? Unable to stop myself, I pulled out everything, dumping the drawer’s contents on the floor until all that was left was the gun and, in the very back right corner of the drawer, a small plastic bag. I grabbed it; inside the bag was a tarnished silver ring, one that I recognized immediately.

  Bile rose in my throat; I barely made it into the hall bathroom, shaking as my stomach turned itself inside out over the toilet. When I was finished I rinsed the taste of vomit out of my mouth with water from the sink, then walked slowly back into the bedroom to get a better look at the ring. Placing the gun on top of the bureau, I shook the ring out of the bag and into my palm, turning it over in the light. It was definitely Carly’s—I couldn’t believe it, but it was indisputable. I slipped the ring onto my finger. It fit. Carly and I had the same ring size.

  I picked up the gun. It wasn’t the one that killed Carly, that I knew, but it was as good as. Thoughts raced through my mind, images flashed, and the final pieces of the puzzle fell together with a resounding click.

  “What are you doing?” Cass was behind me, his voice so soft and sweetly confused I couldn’t believe it was all an act. I turned on my heel.

  “Is this your gun?” I asked, my voice wobbling with terror.

  “No.” He took a step toward me and I raised the gun.

  “Don’t come near me.” Cass was between me and the door, and I knew he wasn’t going to let me leave.

  “Audrey—”

  “Is this your gun, Cass?”

  “I said no.”

  “No? Then what is it doing in your sock drawer?”

  “I mean, yes, it’s mine, but it’s not what it looks like.”

  I held up Carly’s ring. “What are you doing with this?”

  “I don’t know what that is,” he insisted.

  “It’s Carly’s ring,” I almost shrieked. “The one she never took off her finger. Why do you have it?”

  “I must’ve found it somewhere.”

  “Where?”

  “Christ, I don’t know. You need to calm down.”

  “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down. You killed Carly.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “No. No it isn’t. You wrote those letters. This whole time I thought it was the Bean, and Carly thought it was Neily, but those letters were from you.”

  “I didn’t write Carly those letters. Why would I do that? Give me the gun, Audrey. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

  “I’m going to hurt you if you get any closer.”

  “You’d never shoot me. You don’t even know how to use a gun.”

  “I’ll figure it out!” I shouted. “Why did you write those letters? Were you in love with her?”

  “Of course not. I was in love with you. I still am. Give me the gun, come on.”

  “No, you weren’t in love with her—you were obsessed with her. So obsessed that you drugged and raped her the night of your party.”

  “Audrey, just listen to yourself. Does that sound like me?”

  “No,” I said weakly. “I don’t understand how you could be this whole different person on the inside. I thought I knew you. Did you ever love me?”

  “Of course. I still do,” he insisted, but his eyes were dead. His words were empty and worthless, and now that I could see him for what he was, I realized they always had been.

  “No, you don’t. You’ve never loved anybody, have you? You’re so good at faking it, being charming an
d normal, but you don’t feel anything for anybody. What happened, Cass? You made a pass at Carly and she wouldn’t give you what you wanted, so you took it, just like you take everything?”

  “This is crazy.”

  “‘Act like you have all the power, and people give you what you want.’ Isn’t that what you taught me? But that wouldn’t work with Carly. Maybe she was too good of a person to betray me, or maybe she just didn’t want you, so you drugged her and forced her to have sex with you.”

  “I would never do something like that.”

  “You did. And eventually she figured out it was you.”

  “Keep your voice down. And stop pointing that gun at me. I didn’t do anything.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I don’t know what you want me to do about that.”

  “Tell me the truth!”

  “I don’t want to talk about this while you have a gun pointed at me.”

  “You’re Barton, aren’t you? I saw those handkerchiefs in your drawer—Barton is your middle name. You’re the one who took over from your brother, not Adam. You bankroll the drug operation and you call the shots. Isn’t that how it works?”

  “Fine. You want the truth? You’re right. I am Barton.”

  “Did Carly know that?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “How?”

  “She was suspicious for a while, then one day she followed Adam to the park and saw him hand me a wad of cash in exchange for about fifteen grams of coke. She badgered him about it until he spilled. Carly could be very manipulative, if you remember,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I killed her.”

  “That’s exactly what it means.”

  “How do you figure?” Cass smiled. Not a big, villainous grin, just a tiny little smile that curled the corners of his mouth. That smile used to turn me to jelly, but now it made me sick. I was amusing him with my accusations. He actually found this funny.

  The things I’d overheard Mr. Irving screaming at Cass years before rang in my ears. First it’s your brother, then you. You’re both morons. I was a Rhodes scholar and yet somehow I ended up with two losers for sons. “You couldn’t turn out just like Jerod. You had to be perfect so that the things your father said about you would never be true. You had to be Cass Irving, the basketball star, golden boy of Empire Valley, because that was the only way to prove to your father you weren’t worthless. But you couldn’t just give up control of Jerod’s business, either, not when it came with such power and influence and money. So you invented Barton and made Adam your front man because you knew you could control him better than anyone else.”

  “What’s the big deal?” he asked. “Even if everything you just said is true, it doesn’t make me a killer.” He was so insincere. I couldn’t believe how long I’d been snowed by the persona he’d constructed to hide who he really was. It was horrifying to realize that I’d fallen in love with an absolute lie.

  “Carly had you all figured out in the end, didn’t she? It wasn’t just that you were Barton. She knew you weren’t who you appeared to be, what you were capable of. She tried to talk me into breaking up with you multiple times, but I wouldn’t listen.”

  “Carly was a bitch,” Cass said.

  “No, Carly was smart. So you had to subdue her. Scare her, take advantage of her, ruin her relationship with Adam by making him believe she cheated on him. She had figured out who you really were, what you had done to her and to Laura, and when she tried to take you down you killed her.”

  Cass didn’t respond. Instead he said, “So, what? We have a Mexican standoff until my housekeeper comes in and offers us milk and cookies?”

  “Or until you pick up that cell phone and call the police to confess.”

  “Not going to happen.”

  “Fine, I’ll do it.” I moved around the bed and picked up my cell phone from the bedside table, the gun not wavering for an instant. I had left the phone on silent, and there were five missed calls from Neily and a text that read: IT WAS CASS. No shit.

  “Audrey, you have no idea what you’re doing.”

  “For the first time in a long time I know exactly what I’m doing.” I dialed 911 and someone picked up immediately.

  “What’s your emergency?”

  “I’d like to report a crime—” I began, but was interrupted by the sound of a window breaking and Neily calling my name.

  Cass mobilized instantly, taking advantage of my distraction and attacking me, throwing me to the ground and yanking the gun from my hand. Neily ran into the room just as I was getting up off the floor. I looked up to see Cass pointing the gun right at us, and then at Neily, who was pointing a gun at Cass. Suddenly, everyone was armed but me.

  “Did you really need socks that badly?” Cass sneered, closing my cell phone and ending the call. “You’ve done a very stupid thing, Aud, you really have.”

  “Put the gun down, Cass,” Neily said. “There’s no point—everyone will know it’s you.”

  “Did you ever think that the point is to shoot you just to watch you die?”

  “Don’t,” I warned Neily. Provoking Cass now was not a good plan.

  “Fine. Shoot us. I think four murders officially constitutes a spree.”

  “Neily!” I hissed.

  Neily reached over and gave my hand a quick squeeze. His eyes stayed on Cass, and the hand holding the gun didn’t shake. “Why did you kill Carly, Cass?”

  “He’s Barton,” I said. “And Carly knew it. She also knew he killed Laura Brandt, or had her killed. Eventually she must’ve realized he was the one who raped her.”

  “Did she threaten you that night on the bridge?” Neily asked. “Did she threaten to expose you, just like Laura did?”

  “Audrey’s dad murdered Carly,” Cass said. “She was shot with his gun. How would I have gotten my hands on that?”

  “Good question. Carly brought the gun. She had a key to Audrey and Enzo’s house and she knew where the gun was stashed; she must’ve sneaked in that afternoon before Enzo came home. Audrey was sleeping off her stomachache.” He turned to me ever so slightly before zeroing in again on Cass. “She knew you were crazy; she knew you would hurt her if you found out she was taping your confession, so she brought the gun to protect herself.”

  “Considering the position you’re in right now, that was probably a safe bet on her part.” Cass smiled and shook his head. “And for the record, I didn’t rape her. Carly was a slut, and she was high on Special K. She practically begged for it.”

  Neily’s hand was shaking, but his voice was calm. “We read her diary. She felt violated and betrayed, but the ketamine wiped her memory and you were off the hook. You couldn’t keep away, though, huh? You stalked her, wrote her those creepy letters. She kept them, you know—we’ve read them.”

  “You’ve got all the answers, don’t you, Think Tank?”

  “Not all of them. I still don’t know how she got you down to the bridge in the first place.”

  Cass’s eyes flicked over to my cell phone, which he’d tossed on the foot of the bed.

  “She sent him a text,” I said. “It wasn’t in the sent folder, but he probably deleted it after he shot her. There were no prints on the phone—he must’ve wiped it down so no one would suspect someone else had touched it.”

  “Nancy Drew 2.0,” Cass said. “Very clever.”

  “Sometime between the night that you raped her and the night that you killed her, Carly must’ve figured out that it was you who controlled Adam’s operation, and when Oz told her that Laura Brandt had disappeared, she knew you had something to do with it,” Neily deduced.

  “You can’t prove that.”

  “Carly thought she could.”

  “Carly was an idiot. That’s what got her killed. She trusted the wrong people.”

  “I’m pretty sure she didn’t trust you.”

  “I’m talking about Enzo.”

  “My dad—!” I cried, but Neily interrupted me.

  “Come on
, Cass. We all know Enzo didn’t kill Carly. You did. She went to Lucy’s party the night before she died and confronted Adam about Laura. Then he took her into a bedroom and all those bad memories came flooding back and she knew—she knew—you had killed Laura using the information she gave Adam. But she needed proof. So she lured you to the bridge under false pretenses and taped you confessing. What did she tell you? That she wanted you? That she was glad Laura was dead? Anything so you’d spill.”

  “You think I’d really be stupid enough to confess to her?”

  “Carly could be pretty persuasive. And you would’ve done whatever it took to get at her, to have her under your power. You’d even believe, despite all evidence to the contrary, that she would ever want you.”

  “Shut up!”

  “So that is what she told you. And in exchange you told her, what? Everything? How you drove to Arizona and convinced Laura to check herself out of rehab—how? By telling her that her life was in danger, that you were going to give her the money to make herself scarce? I’m no detective, but I’d bet you weren’t smart enough not to use a credit card to buy gas, or to use a pay phone instead of a cell phone to call Laura at the rehab center. I’m pretty sure that’s the kind of stuff the police can check up on.”

  Cass went pale, and whether or not Neily actually knew what he was talking about, he had obviously hit a nerve.

  “Not that it matters. I talked to Adam, and he’s going to go on record shredding your alibi to pieces. And when he does, the police are going to start looking for witnesses who saw your car on Empire Creek Road that night, and they’ll probably find one.”

  “Don’t forget this,” I said, holding up the ring. “He took it as some kind of sick trophy.”

  “You think I’m just going to let you walk out of here with that?”

  “It’s over, Cass,” Neily said. “It was over the minute you decided to get rid of Laura Brandt.”

  “She was going to ruin my life!” he screamed. “They both were! You know what Carly said to me? She said she was going to erase me. So I erased her.”

  Neily scoffed. “I’m sure that defense will hold up nicely on the witness stand.”