What I Know: An utterly compelling psychological thriller full of suspense

by Miranda Smith

  “Let’s go, Pixie,” I said. The little dog jumped off my bed and ran around my feet. I nudged Brian’s shoulder as I walked past. He lifted his foot and lightly kicked Pixie’s back legs.

  “Don’t do that,” I snapped. I could ignore his callousness toward me, but not my dog.

  “It was just a little kick.”

  “Leave her alone,” I said.

  “She belongs to both of us, you know.” He followed me down the stairs, making it impossible for me to have a carefree escape.

  “Then why don’t you ever help take care of her?”

  “Because I don’t like dogs.” He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a soda. “They’re annoying and they stink.”

  “Pixie doesn’t stink. I take good care of her.”

  “Don’t you think it’s gross to take a dog to a public pool?”

  “She doesn’t get in the water.” Even though I knew the entire conversation was a ploy to get under my skin, I still felt the need to defend my actions. “Besides, all the little kids love her.”

  “Wow, Della. You’ve finally won a popularity contest among preschoolers.”

  Mom stampeded past both of us. “Anyone seen my keys?” she asked.

  “Check the fruit bowl,” Brian said.

  “Ah hah.” She lifted the keys and gave them a hearty jangle. “Della, you look adorable.” I think Mom was relieved I finally put more effort into my appearance.

  “You think so?” I asked. “Brian seems to disagree.”

  “She’s my little sister,” he said, pointing at me. “I don’t want people looking at her like that.”

  Mom walked over to Brian and squeezed his cheeks. “Such a protective older brother.”

  As usual, Brian had switched his demeanor in enough time to look like a hero instead of an ass. The tattletale inside me wanted Mom to know what he’d really said. “He’s not being protective—”

  “Enough. I’m late,” Mom said, raising her hand. “Wait and see, Della. One day you’ll be thankful to have an older brother. No one will think of messing with you.”

  I huffed and turned. I followed Mom out the door before Brian had a chance to bother me.

  I always thought I looked womanly until I saw Amber in a swimsuit. The breasts she’d had since middle school were getting bigger, and her daily tanning ritual made her appear slimmer. Like Mom said, I was adorable. Cute. Amber was hot.

  “There she is,” she said when I arrived. Pixie scampered to her lounge chair and nipped at her fingers. “Hi, Pixie.”

  “How long have you been here?” I asked.

  “Since eight.”

  “You’ll be a strip of bacon before summer is over.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said, raising a hand to block the sun. “I want to look my best when we return to school. We’ll be driving soon, you know.”

  “You don’t turn sixteen until May.”

  “Yeah, well. A girl can dream. Speaking of dreaming…” she said, nodding toward the pavilion. Sitting at a table was Jeremy Gus. “Look who I’ve been staring at all morning.”

  Jeremy Gus was a college freshman. He’d moved to the neighborhood only a few months ago. We’d seen him jogging around the neighborhood, although we wouldn’t dare speak to him. Not only was he older, he was too cute. He was tall and muscular with tight blond curls. Dreamboat status, even I had to admit.

  “Got the nerve to talk to him yet?” I asked, already knowing the answer. Even Amber wasn’t that ballsy.

  “Please,” she said, leaning back and closing her eyes. “I wouldn’t even know what to say to a man like that.”

  As much as Amber talked about boys, she was still a virgin. We both were. I’d never even kissed a boy. I’d be lucky if my first kiss could be with a boy like that. I leaned back and started slathering my body with tanning oil. I was soon as slimy as Amber’s skin—or like the watermelon’s shell that day.

  I listened as Pixie barked at a trio of toddlers in the baby pool. They giggled and squealed, and their moms seemed to approve. Once the group started packing away their belongings to leave, Pixie circled the parameter of the pool. I shut my eyes again, the sun’s rays burning orange against my closed lids. Moments later, I sensed a shadow and the prickling sense that someone was standing nearby.

  I opened my eyes and saw Jeremy Gus. I jumped.

  “Sorry,” he said, flattening his hands. “It’s just me.”

  Amber heard the voice and flinched when she saw who was hovering over us.

  “I’m Jeremy,” he said, reaching out a hand.

  “We know,” I said, before my mind could catch up to my thoughts. Jeremy laughed, while Amber shot me a disgusted look. “I’m Della.”

  “And I’m Amber,” she said, lifting her hand to shake his. I’d left my own hand literally hanging.

  “Is this your dog?” he asked. Pixie leapt around his ankles. I felt an immediate surge of embarrassment.

  “She’s mine,” I said. “Is she bothering you?”

  “No,” he said. He sat down on the chair next to mine and lifted Pixie. “She’s a cutie. What’s her name?”

  “Pixie,” I said. I smiled so wide my cheeks hurt. I couldn’t believe my dog had established the introductions we were too afraid to make. And he liked her. As if Jeremy could get any dreamier.

  “I miss my dog,” Jeremy said.

  “What happened?” Amber said, popping up on her forearm. She was as excited as I was and didn’t want to be left out of the conversation.

  “Nothing bad. She’s just back with my parents.”

  “Your parents don’t live here?” I asked. I couldn’t even imagine such an adult world where one could be living on their own without parents.

  “No. I live with my aunt. I go to the community college nearby and she’s nice enough to let me crash.” He thumbed the fur behind Pixie’s ear, making her swoon as much as we were.

  “What do you study?” Amber asked.

  “Photography.” He stood and walked back to his chair to retrieve a camera. It was a big professional type with a long lens and strap. “Want to see a picture of my dog?”

  “Yes,” we said in unison, failing to keep our cool.

  He hit buttons until he found the right picture and handed us the camera. It was a Great Dane.

  “So sweet,” I said.

  “I miss her. Seeing this little gal reminded me of her,” he said, cuddling Pixie again.

  “What other pictures do you take?” asked Amber.

  “Anything, really. Pretty landscapes. Cute animals. Now that I’m taking classes, I’ve even helped with some fashion shoots.”

  “That’s awesome. I’d like to be a model one day,” Amber said proudly, although I’d never heard her say that before.

  “Well, you’re pretty enough,” he told her. Then he looked at me. “You both are.”

  I felt a wave of heat pass through my body, mixed with a twinge of nausea. I wasn’t used to boys being this forward. But again, Jeremy wasn’t a boy. He was in college. He was a man.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “You really think so?” Amber asked, needing reassurance.

  “Definitely,” he said, rubbing Pixie’s fur. “I could take your picture. Show you some of the stuff I’ve learned.”

  “Really?” Amber sat upright. “That would be amazing.”

  “I could take some pictures right now, if you want.” He put Pixie down and stood, holding his camera.

  “Okay,” she said. “What should I do?”

  “Move over here,” he said, pointing to a chair in the corner. “There’s better lighting.”

  Amber did. I stood in the background and watched, half amused, half jealous.

  “Now, just stand naturally,” he said. Amber obeyed, projecting her hip. “Perfect.” He lifted his camera and snapped a few clicks.

  “How do I look?”

  “Great. Fluff your hair a little bit,” he said.

  She bent her head over and gave her locks a he
althy shake. When she stood upright again, she had renewed confidence.

  “Beautiful,” he said, snapping more shots. Then he looked at me, “Would you like me to take your picture?”

  I was nervous and didn’t want to follow Amber. “I’m all right,” I said, crossing my arms over my body.

  “Come on,” he said. “See how easy it is.”

  Amber looked at me like I was the biggest idiot for not wanting to play along. Especially after Jeremy was kind enough to show us attention on a lazy summer day.

  “Okay,” I said, standing in the same area where Amber had stood. The place with the good lighting.

  “Great,” he said, raising the camera to cover his face. “Now just pose naturally. Put some bend in the knees—”

  “What the hell are you doing?” Brian shouted. He appeared out of nowhere, standing by the entry gate. His arms were at his sides with clenched fists.

  We all jumped. Jeremy lowered the camera and turned around. “Hey, man. Do I know you?” His casual tone was laced with fear.

  Brian walked closer, until he stood a few steps in front of Jeremy. “I asked, what the hell are you doing?”

  “Brian,” I said. “He’s just taking pictures.”

  Brian’s body language didn’t react to hearing me, although he obviously did. “Is that all you’re doing, man?” He took another step toward Jeremy. His head inched forward, like an animal about to bite. “Taking pictures?”

  “I take photography classes—”

  Brian didn’t have to say anything for Jeremy to know it was wise to stop talking. He simply raised his hands, and Jeremy backed away.

  “Go home,” Brian said. “Now.”

  Jeremy looked down. Without making eye contact, he walked by us and retrieved his remaining belongings from the patio table. He slung the camera strap around his shoulder and left. Brian’s eyes followed him, even after the iron gate rattled shut.

  “He’s a photographer,” Amber said, breaking the silence. “He was only taking our pictures.”

  “The guy’s a fucking freak,” Brian said, snapping his head in our direction.

  My cheeks burned with embarrassment. “He was only being nice, Brian.”

  “You girls leave, too.” He walked a few steps to where we’d been sitting. He picked up my towel and threw it at me. Amber walked over and grabbed her pool bag. Pixie, who’d been lounging in the shaded grass area during this entire exchange, followed her.

  “That was humiliating.” My voice was nasal and on the verge of being overcome with tears. I stomped past Brian, who remained standing by our chairs. Amber followed me.

  Before closing the gate, I turned to look at Brian. “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Going for a swim,” he said. He pulled off his shirt and dove into the water.

  Brian frequently took over situations without me fully understanding why. As though he’d felt a surge of insecurity and needed to re-establish his control. He did it with everyone, even Mom and Dad. But he pulled his power card with me more than anyone. I was the younger sister, weaker and less inclined to retaliate. In my mind, I tried to fight back. I’d name-call or tattle or even shove him, at times. But these were useless weapons against Brian’s arsenal.

  Brian always won, so eventually I just let him. Didn’t even ask him why he said the things he said or did the things he did. He did them because he was Brian and because he could. I was probably the only teenager in Wilsonville who wanted school to start back. I’d had enough of long, summer days with Brian. He always behaved worse when he had too much time on his hands.

  The night before school started, Mom prepared spaghetti. It wasn’t a fabulous dinner, but they seldom were, unless guests were present. It was only the four of us, with Pixie nipping at my feet from under the table.

  We usually weren’t allowed to watch television during dinner, but Dad had made a request to watch the news. I was half-listening, half-fantasizing about my first day back, when I heard something familiar.

  “Turn that up,” I said.

  Mom put down her fork and attempted to reason with me. “Honey, don’t focus on the television—”

  “Please, turn it up,” I said. “I think I heard something important.”

  Dad grabbed the remote by his side and increased the volume. We all turned to better hear the program.

  “… Wilsonville resident Jeremy Gus was arrested for the solicitation of a minor and possession and distribution of child pornography,” the reporter said. Jeremy’s portrait filled the screen.

  “Is that the boy from the neighborhood?” Mom asked, now wholly invested in the program.

  “From our neighborhood?” Dad asked, confused.

  “Yeah. I think he lives with the Hendersons a few doors down,” she said. “I’ve seen him jogging around the neighborhood.”

  “That’s him,” I said. My stomach twisted. He was the first person I’d known to ever be arrested for a crime.

  “Do you know him, sweetie?” Mom asked, her tone sharp.

  “Not really,” I said. “I talked to him once at the pool.”

  “What did you talk about?” Dad asked, his voice calm, but I could tell he was afraid of what I might say.

  “He… he said he was a photographer,” I stammered, feeling an instant urge to cry. “He asked to take our pictures.”

  Mom leaned back and placed both palms against her temples. “Oh my God! Oh, honey. Oh, no.”

  Dad reached his hand across the table and held mine. “Honey, tell us exactly what happened. Did he take your picture?”

  “No,” I said. “I mean, he almost did. But Brian stopped him.”

  Brian sat between Mom and me. He didn’t say anything, raised his fork and put a lump of twirled noodles in his mouth.

  “Oh, thank God,” Mom said, leaning over and shaking Brian’s shoulder. “I can’t believe this. A predator living down the street. Preying on our children.”

  “You said our pictures,” Dad continued, ignoring Mom. “Was someone else there?”

  “Amber,” I said. “He took some pictures of her modeling by the pool.”

  Without saying another word, Mom left the table. She grabbed the portable phone off the wall charger and started dialing.

  I didn’t want to cause trouble for anyone, especially a friend. “Mom, don’t—”

  “I’m a mother. I have to let Karen know about this.” She disappeared into the hallway, filled with pride over her call to action.

  “I’m afraid I agree with her,” Dad said. “Her mother needs to know.”

  “Nothing happened,” I said.

  “But something terrible could have. We’ll talk about this later.” Dad sounded like he was choking. He stood and carried his plate into the kitchen. He didn’t look at either one of us, too busy processing everything he’d heard. Before he left the kitchen, he said to Brian, “Good looking out.”

  Tears filled my eyes. I blinked, and one fell onto my forearm. I looked at Brian and his almost finished plate. It was the first time I realized how dangerous the world could be. Somehow, Brian already knew. He could tell there was something off about Jeremy Gus. That Jeremy’s friendly demeanor was masking a darker intent. Brian sensed a similar predator and did us a favor in scaring him off.

  “How’d you know?” I asked, wondering why in all the time Amber and I had spent staring at our neighbor we’d never seen the monster he was.

  “I told you,” Brian said. He smirked. “The guy’s a fucking freak.”

  Fifteen

  Now

  I pick up pizza on my way home, having decided I’m in no mood to cook. Maybe on Saturday, once I’ve had the opportunity to sleep in and clear my thoughts, I’ll feel better.

  The pizza is cold when Danny arrives, and I’m already full after eating three slices. I’m sitting on the sofa, nestled under a blanket. I want to fool Danny into thinking there’s nothing wrong with me. One of the best and worst things about Danny is he’s perceptive. He’s seen me g
o through enough emotional stages that a simple shrug of the shoulders and avoided eye contact won’t keep him quiet. Besides, he’s sensed my mood has been off for the past week, and he’s been kind enough to let it slide. Tonight, he offers no such grace.

  “Are you sure there isn’t something on your mind?” he asks, sitting beside me on the sofa holding a plate of reheated pizza. Instead of taking a bite, which I’m sure his stomach is grumbling to do, he looks at me. Wanting a response.

  “There’s been stuff going on at school,” I answer, reluctantly. I sit up straighter, gearing up for a discussion.

  “What stuff?” he asks, taking a bite of pizza. He seems pleased I’m not brushing him off.

  “Remember when I chaperoned Spring Fling last week?” I ask. “After the dance, one of our students was attacked.”

  “Oh my gosh,” he says, melty cheese still poking out of his mouth. He uses a hand to cover the lower half of his face. “Attacked how?”

  “She threw a party at her house. When she passed out, someone cut her leg.” This was the short version, but I needed him to understand why the event bothered me as much as it did. “I’m afraid one of our other students might have been involved.”

  Danny’s eyes bulge as he wipes the corners of his mouth. He places his plate beside him, and I feel guilty for having ruined his appetite. “Are the police investigating?”

  “The police found her. Someone must have called in a noise complaint about the party. If they hadn’t arrived, the outcome could have been far worse.” My mind revisits the grim details in the essay. “The girl is now claiming she wasn’t attacked. She says she hurt her leg in a fall.”

  “Claiming?”

  I sigh. “I think she remembers more than she’s saying.” I know I haven’t talked to Darcy myself, but what I read provided insight into what might have happened. “She’s just not ready to come forward.”

  “I see,” he says, looking down. I know he’s thinking about someone else now. I’m thinking about her, too. “Is she getting help from someone? Is Pam working with her?”

  Danny has always had a soft spot for Pam. They’ve been around one another a few times at different school functions, and once at our house. Their interests of medicine and mental health overlap, although Danny wouldn’t know anything about comforting a teenage girl and Pam would gag if she encountered the number of bodily fluids Danny does throughout the day.