by Raven Snow
“Yep.” Margo retrieved her own coffee cup from the bar and took a sip of it. “I’m sorry you’re so afraid of us.”
“What?” The corner of Sutton’s mouth quirked in bemusement. “Afraid? Where did you pull that from?”
“Your mind. You’re afraid of witches.”
“Sorry. I’m afraid you’re wrong.”
“Ah.” Margo took another sip. She nodded. “I see. You’re right. You were afraid of witches. This was back when you were a kid. You saw some special on television. It bothered you so much, you couldn’t sleep alone for a week, or… no. A week and a half, maybe?”
Sutton stared. That had caught him by surprise. No shock there. It wasn’t something they did very often. It was more than a little intrusive and not terribly reliable. Unless the other person was willing and open to the experience, you couldn’t really draw out information you were looking for. What you got was always more than a little random, perhaps tangentially related to whatever was on the person’s mind. “I’m not—” Sutton began, but it was clear that he was shaken.
Margo smiled to herself, pleased. “We’re not fakes, Detective. And it’s not right to come after us solely based on whatever it was Trish and Richie Masters told you. My cousin here is telling the truth. They really did invite us over. We may have riled them up, but it was only because we were confronting them with some nasty stuff, nasty stuff that was true. People don’t always want to hear that. You should know better than most around here that people don’t want to hear what they don’t believe. The Masters never asked us to leave. We left on our own. I suggest you do the same as soon as you’re finished with your coffee.”
Sutton kept right on gaping at Margo. It took him a good thirty seconds to snap out of it. “I don’t know how you found that out, but I’m not as gullible as the rest of Lainswich. I’m not going to be fooled by magic tricks, as impressive as they are.”
Margo rolled her eyes dramatically, getting her whole head involved by lolling it back. “Ugh, just forget it. Believe what you want to believe. We need to go.”
“Where are you going?” asked Sutton. He took his first sip of coffee.
“That’s none of your business.” Rowen reached up and took the coffee mug from him. Margo might be willing to keep him here until he finished but Rowen wasn’t. She didn’t much care if he believed they were what they said or not. It wasn’t her job to convince him. It probably wouldn’t even change anything, not really. “Now, please. Get out of my house.”
“I hope you don’t think that—” Sutton began, but he was silenced when Rowen nudged him toward the door.
“Just go before I call the police.” Rowen doubted he wanted this getting back to the station. Then again, maybe his fellow employees commended him for standing up to those horrible Greensmiths.
Whatever the case might have been, Sutton did leave. He turned to say something, but Margo was too fast for him. She slammed the door in his face. “I hate him,” she said, not seeming to care much if he could hear her through the door between them. “He’s still cute, though.”
***
Rowen and Margo waited a little while just to make sure that Sutton was really gone. Rowen watched him get in his car and leave. Even then, she didn’t wholly trust him to leave them alone. He might be down the street, she reasoned. He might hide on a side street and follow them from a distance.
After an hour, things seemed safe enough. Rowen sincerely doubted Sutton would wait much longer than that. If he did, they had bigger problems than solving an old school bully’s murder to worry about. Instinct told Rowen that Sutton didn’t have it out for her and her family quite as bad as all that. “All right,” she said, finally standing up with her car keys. “Let’s get going.”
“Do we have to?” asked Margo from the couch. She was lounged back where she sat, watching a midday court show.
“Yes. You wanted to help. Come on.” Rowen switched the television off with the remote.
Margo sighed heavily. “Oh, come on. I wanted to see if the girl got paid pain and suffering for her bad haircut.”
“It’s court TV, Margo. No one wins.”
Margo gave a second, less dramatic sigh. “I’m coming.” She stood and smoothed down her clothing. “Do you know the way?”
“Yep.” It was a good thing too. Rowen had a feeling that if she called ahead this time they wouldn’t be invited over. Hopefully, Sutton really wasn’t following them. “Keep an eye out for Sutton’s car,” she told Margo anyway, once they were pulling out of the driveway.
The ride to Jessi’s home wasn’t a long one. She had a cute little house out past the high school. It had a porch with a swing and there was a well-tended garden out front. Rowen had driven by it a few times lately. Each time she had, there had been a lot of cars packed into the driveway and lined up on the curb. This time there was only the one sedan on the gravel drive. Rowen pulled in behind it. Before they had even gotten out of the car, she spotted Jessi peeking out the window.
“Well, she knows we’re here.” Rowen got out of the car and headed to the front door with Margo at her heels. She knocked and hoped Jessi wouldn’t pretend she wasn’t home. Rowen wasn’t going to bang on the door like Sutton but she felt more than a little hypocritical sneaking up on Jessi like she was. “Hey, Jessi? It’s Rowen. You said I could swing by whenever, remember?”
There wasn’t an immediate answer. After a few seconds, Jessi eased the door open just a little. She wasn’t looking well. That much was immediately clear. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her nose looked similarly raw and rubbed at. “Now isn’t really a good time,” she said, sniffling.
“Are you okay?” asked Rowen.
“I’m fine, just kinda… under the weather. I’m not doing a circle today or anything.”
“A circle?” repeated Margo.
“Yeah, for Teaghan.” Jessi looked to Margo. She frowned. “Is that not why the two of you are here?” the way she asked made her sound nervous, like she had suspected they weren’t there for that.
“Can we come in?” asked Rowen. “It might be better to talk inside.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Jessi began to back up into her house and ease the door closed again. “Like I said, I’m not feeling so good. I don’t want to get you guys sick, so-”
“Why is it that Trish Masters is so eager to throw you under the bus? Why does she think you killed Teaghan?” Margo had a certain talent for bluntness.
Jessi’s eyes grew huge. Suddenly, there was a lot more pep to her step. She wasn’t so under the weather after all, it seemed. She threw the door open wide, allowing them in.
If Rowen had to guess, she would say that Jessi lived by herself. There was a lot of pink, fuzzy carpet, cheerleading and gymnastic trophies, a sofa covered in sequin throw pillows. It was small and comfortable, prime real estate for an unwed social butterfly like Jessi. Granted, all that comfort went out the window the moment the door was shut. “She’s lying!” Jessi blurted, her eyes still huge. “I would have never hurt Teaghan! How could I even? I’m so… so… short! And I was on stage almost the whole night, right? When would I have? How would I have?”
Rowen held up her hands. “Whoa,” she said, careful to keep her tone level. “Calm down. Let’s go sit down for a second.” It wasn’t really her place to offer Jessi a spot to sit in her own home, but it seemed like she needed it. Jessi did as she was told, crossing the short distance to a big, comfy-looking chair and collapsing into it. “Deep breaths,” said Rowen. Jessi did that as well. “We’re not here to accuse you of anything.” At least, they weren’t yet.
Margo sat down on the loveseat across from Jessi like she belonged there. She settled her skirt around her knees as she crossed her legs. “I like your home.”
“Thank you,” Jessi said, still wide eyed, her voice quivering.
Rowen felt a swell of guilt. She didn’t want to just sit down and launch into a bunch of questions. It really didn’t seem like Jessi was up for that. “Do you, um…
Can I get you anything?” It really didn’t feel like it was Rowen’s place to ask that in Jessi’s own home. Still, it was the only thing she could think to do. “A glass of water or… Whatever you have in there. I don’t know.”
Jessi’s unfocused stare snapped to Rowen. “Some pomegranate juice?” she asked, like she had to get permission. “Please?”
“Coming right up.” Rowen found the small kitchen easily enough. Cute tea cups hung from a rack over the blender and coffee maker. Some herbs and flowers grew on the window sill. The glasses were in the second cabinet Rowen checked. She went to the fridge next. Bottles of various juices were just about the only thing in it. Aside from a takeout container and a crisper full of fruits and veggies, there were only condiments. She found the pomegranate juice by the color of the stuff and poured Jessi a glass.
“Thanks,” said Jessi, once Rowen had come back into the living room with the full glass. She paused long enough for a long, slow sip. She swallowed. “I’m on a juice cleanse right now.”
“Ah,” said Rowen, as if that interested her.
“Which one?” asked Margo, like that really did interest her.
Rowen cleared her throat, elbowing her cousin as she sat down beside her. That wasn’t what they were here to talk about and she knew it. “So, have there been issues between you and Trish lately?” Rowen asked, steering things in a more relevant direction.
Jessi took another sip and then a long gulp, draining half the glass. It was obvious she didn’t want to talk right now. She did anyway though, finally. “Trish and I have never been all that close, I guess. I mean, I thought we were friends in high school, but you know how that goes.”
“Not really,” said Margo, blunt as ever.
Jessi’s wide blue eyes darted to Margo. “Oh… oh, right. You guys don’t really have many old friends from school, I guess. It’s, um…” She trailed off then shrugged before continuing again. “It’s weird, because you think you’re friends in high school, but everyone is talking behind everyone’s back. And now we’re all adults, but we live in such a small town. It’s impossible not to run into people, you know?”
Unfortunately, Rowen did know. She ran into people she would rather avoid all the time. “So, you and Trish used to be friends.”
“I don’t know,” Jessi admitted. “There was never a time we didn’t smile at each other and exchange pleasantries and stuff… At least not until today. Not that I didn’t get the vibe a long time ago that she didn’t much like me. I think she started talking behind my back all the way back in high school.”
“And what was she talking behind your back about?” Rowen chanced a glance to Margo to see if she knew, but Margo had a curious look herself.
Instead of answering, Jessi drained the rest of her juice. “I, um, I don’t really… I’m sorry, I… It’s not really worth talking about now. I mean, it was such a long time ago! I’m not sure why it matters.”
“It looks like it matters a lot to you,” Rowen pointed out.
“Only because I didn’t do anything! It shouldn’t matter! I don’t want Trish spreading lies about me when I didn’t even do anything wrong.”
Rowen raised a hand to try and calm her down again. “Okay, okay, what shouldn’t matter?”
“Can I have more juice?”
Rowen didn’t point out that this was Jessi’s home. She could have as much juice as she liked. Instead, Rowen stood and retrieved the cup. She took it back to the kitchen.
“Actually, can you just bring me some ice cream?” called Jessi. So much for her cleanse.
Rowen opened the freezer. Unlike the fridge, there was plenty of food in there. “What kind?”
“Cookie dough.”
“How much?”
“Just… just bring the pint.”
Rowen brought the pint and a spoon. She handed it to Jessi. “Sorry,” she said, tearing the lid off. “Do you guys want any?”
“No thanks,” said Margo.
“Can you just tell us what happened?” pressed Rowen, tired of the run around they were getting from Jessi.
“Like I said, it really isn’t even related. It isn’t either here nor there, you know?” Jessi seemed to be someone who ate when they were anxious. The confidence she was trying to exude wasn’t in the least bit convincing.
“Just say it,” said Margo with a heavy sigh. She had finally lost her patience.
Jessi hesitated again and, for a moment there, Rowen didn’t think she was going to say anything. Finally, she took a deep breath of her own and launched into what they so wanted to know. “At one point during the reunion, Tilda got kind of drunk and made a scene.”
“Tilda?” Rowen had expected her to say it was Trish who had made the scene. “What does that have to do with Trish?”
“Well, Trish was there trying to diffuse things before we drew a crowd.”
“So, Trish was trying to help?” Rowen wasn’t sure she followed.
“She was trying to help Tilda more than she was trying to help me,” Jessi assured her. “Like I said, I’m not sure we were ever all that close, looking back on things.”
“And what was Tilda making a scene about?” asked Margo.
Jessi bit her bottom lip. “Do we have to do this?”
“Just spill it,” said Margo. “Unless you really do have something to hide.”
“I don’t,” Jessi blurted. “Fine. Back in high school, Teaghan and I had a thing for a while.”
“Oh,” said Margo, which was more or less Rowen’s initial response as well.
“You mean together as in… Were the two of you in a relationship?” Rowen wanted to make sure that she was hearing all of this correctly.
“It was more of just a sex thing.” Jessi’s plump cheeks went pink when she said that. “And it didn’t last for too long. She was seeing Dave at the time and all. She told me that she was going to break up with him, but it didn’t quite work out like that. I wouldn’t have done anything with her if I knew she wasn’t going to stop seeing Dave. Of course, maybe it worked out for the best anyway. I’m not sure how comfortable we would have been being a couple in public. I know my family wouldn’t have liked it.”
“So, Tilda was getting mad at you about that?” asked Rowen, trying to put all these pieces together now.
“Sort of,” said Jessi. “I’m not sure she was mad at me exactly. It was more she was drunk and bringing up things no one wanted her to. When they told her to quiet down, she started getting kind of mad.”
“Who was there when she was talking about all this stuff?” asked Rowen.
Jessi’s gaze went distant again, but she didn’t look to be stalling for time now. “Let’s see… The usual gang was there, I think. It was Trish, obviously, Tilda, Richie, Teaghan, and Dave.”
“Dave was there?” Rowen hadn’t expected to hear that.
“Yeah.” Jessi shoved a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth miserably. “He took it in stride, bless him. He didn’t, like, yell at me or anything. If anything, I guess he just looked embarrassed. He tried to act like he hadn’t heard when Tilda let it slip, but it was obvious he had. You could just tell the second things got more awkward, you know?”
“So, what happened after that?” prompted Rowen.
“Oh, it’s all such a blur.” Jessi shook her head like she couldn’t possibly answer that particular question. “I tried to slip off, but Teaghan found me and tried to talk. Of course, I was already so busy with the reunion. I kept trying to shake her off and, I guess, things might have gotten a little heated if you were watching from a distance. That’s what she’s like though. I mean you could tell that was exactly what she was trying to do. She was trying to stir up drama.” She winced as soon as those words had left her mouth. “That seems like such a horrible thing to say about her now.”
“It’s all right,” Rowen assured her.
“It’s more than all right,” said Margo. Clearly her opinion of Teaghan had not improved any as of late.
“And
what happened after that?”
“Well, that was the last I saw of her until… well… You know.”
Rowen did know. She remembered the way Jessi had even rushed closer to try and find her pulse. Despite what Trish had said over the phone, Rowen really didn’t think that Jessi had had anything to do with the murder—at least not on purpose. “And you’re sure Tilda was drunk?”
Jessi raised her eyebrows. “She was sure acting like it. I hope she was. Otherwise, there really was no excuse for her behavior.” She gave a little huff at that, like she was still offended even after all that had happened. “I swear, she was just a few seconds away from throwing her drink on someone like they do in reality shows. A few more seconds and all eyes would have been on us. That would have made people think the wrong thing, I think. No matter what anyone says, I think I did a lot of good bringing people together over Teaghan’s death. I feel like I’ve really helped, not just a few people, but this whole town grieve.”
Rowen thought she was overselling herself a little there, but she didn’t mention that. It wasn’t really any of her business. So Jessi thought a lot of herself. Good for her. She didn’t seem to be hurting anyone by it. Still, there was something there, some line to connect.
Jessi took another bite of her ice cream. She had relaxed considerably since she had started. She must have decided the Greensmiths weren’t much of a threat, that they believed her to be innocent of everything after all. “I really can’t believe Trish,” she said, like Rowen and Margo were friends who had come to chat and dish dirt. “She seriously suggested that I would kill Teaghan just to keep it a secret that I liked girls… Or experimented with one back in high school, anyway. I haven’t really dated anyone in a while. By choice, mind you! I’ve seen a few people since high school, but it was never really for me. I don’t want to get married just because everyone else is, you know? I mean, Trish and Tilda sure don’t seem happy. And Teaghan, rest her soul, was a cheater!” Jessi took another bite of ice cream. She shook her head in disapproval.
“You know you played a part in her cheating, right?” Margo pointed out.