The Girls Across the Bay

by Emerald O'Brien

  He closed the door behind her and gestured for her to sit at the table. “I’m going crazy in here.”

  “Doesn’t smell so great in here,” she said, taking a seat.

  “They haven’t even let the maid in.” John took the seat across from her and turned it around, sitting backwards. “So are you here because of the case?”

  “I just wanted to pay you a visit. Now that we’ve met, I wanted to get to know you. It’s a bad time, I know, but you’re not busy. I know that.”

  He stared at her, his eyes narrowing. “You’re lying.”

  She craned her head back. “What?”

  “I know you’re lying,” he said. “Your tell is that—”

  “I talk too much,” she finished. “I know. Grace told me that, but I thought the only person I had to watch myself around was her.”

  “So you keep things from her?”

  Madigan folded her hands in front of her and stared at them.

  “She doesn’t know you’re here, does she?”

  “No.”

  “She will soon,” he sighed. “So don’t waste time. Why did you really come?”

  “I’ve had this question I’ve wanted answered since I was little.”

  He swallowed hard. “Okay.”

  “Evette kept that picture of you hidden. She never spoke of you. I saw you once; I know I did. Why did you leave?”

  “It’s complicated,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Is it really, though? Maybe to someone who didn’t share the same childhood home, but, I think, out of anyone, I have the best chance of understanding.”

  He cleared his throat. “I guess you do, but it wasn’t the beatings. It wasn’t the manipulation or making me sell drugs—do drugs—he never made you do them, did he?”

  She shook her head. “We’d get contact high. That’s it.”

  He nodded. “Well, it wasn’t any of that. Eli was my future.”

  Madigan propped her head up with her hand. “What do you mean?”

  “I lived in that house since I was a baby. Eli and Evette are the only real parents I’ve ever known. They raised me, and as much as Evette tried to make it different, I was becoming Eli. It started at around ten. I noticed it even then. How I’d treat other kids at school. How I’d treat Evette sometimes. That’s what really got me.”

  He leaned his arms on the table, revealing his scorpion tattoo. “I’d treat her like shit, and she’d let me. Forgive me or not even think I needed forgiveness. She was so conditioned by Eli that she just accepted it.”

  Madigan nodded, and light faded from the room as the sun hid behind the clouds. She glanced at the tattoo.

  I can’t be sure about the tattoo, or the ring, or anything.

  Why can’t I remember?

  “I didn’t want to be like him, but it was part of me,” he said. “I think it still is.”

  She frowned. “But you got out.”

  “They’re still in my head. If you think he’s not in yours, you’re lying to yourself.”

  “I wasn’t there as long as you were.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “Ever get your way by lying?”

  “Yeah, but everyone—”

  “More than the average person. Pretend to be someone else to manipulate people into giving you what you want?”

  She sat still, staring at him.

  He knows me more than I’d like to admit.

  I won’t admit it.

  “Tell yourself you’re garbage? Not good enough? Never will be? Who’d want you?”

  What else do you know about me?

  Things I don’t know about myself?

  “Ever punish yourself?” he asked. “Left before someone had a chance to leave you?”

  “That’s enough,” she said, sitting up and pushing her chair away from the table.

  “He’s still got his claws deep into us, Madigan. Grace too. We’re adults, for Christ’s sake. We create our own destiny. We take responsibility for our actions, and yet they’re not entirely ours, are they? We’re the sum of our parts. Our experiences. He’s part of us. So is Evette, and what we experienced there, no kid should ever go through.”

  Madigan blinked hard, trying to keep her tears away.

  “You’re right,” he said. “I did get out. I went and stayed with friends. Lived on the street a while after that, and then I found a shelter in Amherst. I found Thom Hanks, and I found hope. He reminded me why I left. Because I wanted to be like him—not Eli—and I made that choice.”

  “I did too,” Madigan said. “Well, not the same, but I made the choice to get out of there.”

  He nodded. “But the shitstorm follows us everywhere. I made a better life for myself. I became more like Thom than Eli. I found the love of my life, and she’s gone. When I found her, time stopped. I was nothing without her. When the police got there, I was more Eli than Thom. I was a suspect. I was a criminal. Everything from my past has come back to haunt me. If it hasn’t happened to you already, it will. You can’t prepare for a thing like this.”

  “You don’t have to be Thom or Eli,” she whispered. “You’re John. The man Lily fell in love with. You can still be that man.”

  He shook his head, and tears fell down his cheeks.

  “I’ve lost myself,” he muttered. “I’m a monster, Madigan. I always have been. Always will be and I was foolish to think I’d change.”

  He stood from his chair and dragged his fingers through his hair, pacing back and forth from the bathroom to the door.

  “The roses,” he said over and over. “Grace is right.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve become my father,” he said, stopping in front of her.

  Why would he be saying that?

  “John, I don’t understand.” She took a step toward him. “You didn’t kill Lily, right?”

  He stared down at her with his clenched jaw.

  “John? Did you hurt Lily like Eli hurt Evette? Is that why you think you’re like him?”

  He stared past her, his eyes flickering slightly to the left or right every few seconds.

  Did he black out? Does he not know?

  “Maybe what I did was worse,” he muttered.

  He’s on the verge of something. He’s talking. I have to ask him.

  Her hands shook, and she wanted to create a distance between them, but it wasn’t right. It felt right to be there. To be present to witness his truth.

  “To Lily?” she asked and swallowed hard before opening her mouth, willing the courage to say her name. “Or Valerie?”

  His eyes opened wide as the door swung open, letting the glow of the setting sun inside, and disarming the spell she had on him.

  Or he has on me.

  The officer marched into the room.

  “You need to leave now,” the officer said. “You don’t have permission to be here.”

  “Okay, okay.” She nodded and grabbed her bag.

  John went to her side and wrapped his hand around her arm, leaning close to her face. She stared into his eyes piercing through hers.

  “Don’t say a word,” he whispered, his voice shaking.

  “Hey,” the officer said, stepping toward them. “That’s enough.”

  “Please,” he said, shaking his head.

  She shook her arm loose and walked past the officer, out to her bike as her phone buzzed in her bag again.

  “I had to see him,” Madigan said.

  He was about to confess something.

  “You couldn’t have asked me first?” Grace said.

  I lost my chance at the truth.

  “I didn’t know I had to.” Madigan grabbed her helmet. “See you at dinner.”

  She hung up, tossed the cell in her bag, and got on her bike.

  He didn’t deny it.

  He didn’t deny either of them, but I didn’t accuse him.

  Is he scared because I caught him or because he doesn’t know himself?

  As she rode back to Grac
e’s, she wondered if John was still thinking about her too. If he knew he’d gotten most of it right when he held a mirror up to her to show her who she really was.

  I’m a sum of all parts, but they’re not held together right.

  I’m broken.

  So is he.

  Don’t say a word.

  He wants to keep something a secret, but what?

  Chapter Thirty One

  Grace waved to the officer out front before unlocking her front door and walking inside.

  The smell of garlic and tomatoes wafted toward her, and her mouth watered.

  Madigan’s chili.

  She locked the door behind her and found Madigan in the kitchen, pulling a spoon from the drawer. She dipped it into the pot and pulled out a heaping spoonful, using her hand to shield the floor from any drops, then walking over to Grace.

  Grace blew on the spoon and took a bite. Hot chili warmed her mouth and spices bit at her tongue—the sweet and savoury flavors bringing back memories of nights she had been invited to stay over at the Knoxes’ when Madigan volunteered to cook the family dinner.

  Grace kept a straight face as she licked the corner of her mouth and Madigan waited for her reaction.

  “Like it?” Madigan asked.

  “Are you trying to make up for today?” Grace asked.

  “That and thanking you for letting me stay,” Madigan said.

  “It’s delicious, as always.” Grace sighed and moved past her sister and toward her room, avoiding the goofy grin on Madigan’s face

  After changing and showering, she re-entered the kitchen with chili in bowls on the table and a basket of crusty garlic bread between them. Madigan washed her hands and waved at Buster to go settle down in the living room.

  “There are no new leads on the break-in,” Grace said.

  “I figured,” Madigan said.

  “We have two units on it asking if anyone in the area saw someone fleeing last night,” Grace said. “How was it being here alone?”

  “I wasn’t here much,” she said. “But I was okay. I—I kept that knife within reach while I was cooking.”

  Her cheeks flushed, and she avoided eye contact, taking a seat at the table.

  “Mads, I get it,” Grace said. “You want to protect yourself. We should get you into some self defense classes.”

  Madigan shrugged. “Not really my style. I thought with my experience fighting off bullies in school I might have been stronger. Been able to defend myself better. Turns out I’m better at distracting myself after the fact and keeping busy. I think we both share that habit.”

  “We do. When someone comes at you who’s bigger than you, you need to have the skills to get the upper hand,” Grace said, sitting down across from her. “Think about the classes.”

  Madigan nodded and grabbed a piece of bread as Grace folded her napkin in her lap.

  “This chili is amazing, as usual, and I’m happy to have you here,” Grace said, “but we have to talk about today.”

  “Actually, I have a lot to tell you,” Madigan said. “I should have told you about going to see John, but you would have stopped me.”

  Grace shook her head. “You don’t think things through.”

  “I do the best I can with what I’ve got,” Madigan said, grabbing her spoon. “Grace, there’s more to the Valerie story than anyone knows. I did some digging at the library, and the newspaper article about Valerie’s disappearance was missing.”

  Grace frowned. “Really?”

  “So I went to see a nice man, Arthur, because he’s got articles from way back when, and when I read it, I found out she had a fiancé at the time. It also said they were from our neighbourhood, so I went to see her dad, like I told you. He told me they lived on our street, next door.”

  “Right.”

  “I saw a picture of Valerie with a ring that’s the same as Evette’s,” she said. “I saw it in person today. asked Evette about it, and she said Eli might have given it to her.”

  “They could have had the same ring,” Grace said.

  “I also called Valerie’s fiancé, Joe Harris,” Madigan said, ignoring her. “He’s still upset about her disappearance and the rumors that surrounded it. A friend of hers saw her out with another man and word spread. They assumed she left with him, but Joe’s sure she didn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “The usual reasons. She loved him. Even if she was cheating, she wouldn’t have left him. But then he told me he thinks she was seeing John behind his back.”

  “Why does he think it was John?” Grace asked. “Did he see something?”

  “He didn’t say that,” Madigan replied. “He said John was a bad person. That he did bad things and that people suspected Valerie was cheating with someone closer to her own age, and John would have been. I mean, I think he was drunk, but you know what they say. A drunk person’s words…”

  Grace ate a spoonful of chili and shrugged. “Are a sober person’s thoughts. Yes, I know. It’s a lot to consider.”

  Her fiancé is sure it’s John, but not much proof.

  With evidence stacking up, she couldn’t ignore the possibility that John had done something violent in the past.

  “The tattoo and the body I saw that night. The woman next door having an affair. The ring someone gave to Evette, and he left, Grace. John left around the time Valerie went missing. Joe tried to track him down during that time but he couldn’t, so I asked Evette. She said Eli and John were at odds, and he left because of it. John said he had to get out for obvious reasons. He said he didn’t want to turn into Eli.”

  “Okay, as I said, there’s a lot to consider here. Could be a coincidence, or maybe something more.” She took a sip of her drink to extinguish some of the heat from her chili. “I just need you to stay away from John. Until we sort this through with Lily.”

  Madigan stirred her bowl of chili.

  She’s thinking about it.

  “Do you still think he could have killed Lily?” Madigan asked.

  Maybe she needs to take my orders more seriously.

  “He’s still a suspect,” Grace said. “I consider him dangerous.”

  “Do you think he could have killed Valerie?” Madigan asked, setting her spoon down. “Don’t you think there’s a good chance it wasn’t a nightmare I had, but that I witnessed something?”

  “John killing Valerie?” Grace asked. “In that house with all of us in it? Eli or Evette or both would have known.”

  Madigan tucked her hair behind her ear. “Maybe they did.”

  “There’s not a motive. Why would John have killed Valerie?”

  “Maybe she wouldn’t leave her fiancé for him? Do you think you might find a chance to speak to Joe Harris? Question him about it some more?”

  Grace took a sip of her drink.

  I should anyway, but maybe I can work it to my advantage.

  “He didn’t tell me why he suspected John, but maybe he’d tell you,” Madigan said. “If John killed before, there’s a better chance he’s done it again. Or…”

  “You think it’s possible it wasn’t John?” Grace asked.

  “I believe he loved Lily. My visit with him, he was incredibly stressed. He was hard on himself, just like we are, and he blames himself for Lily’s death.”

  “He does?”

  “It seems like he thinks he could have prevented it somehow,” Madigan said.

  By not ending things with Mickey.

  She sees the look on my face. She knows she’s right.

  “Or maybe he…” Madigan set her spoon down. “Maybe that’s what he meant.”

  “What?”

  “I think he thinks it’s his fault because bad things always happen to him. He said his past caught up with him. He says it’ll happen for us too.”

  Or he’s making you think one thing, while covering for what he did to Lily in a jealous rage.

  Grace took another sip of her drink to hide her expression.

  “What do I know, right?�
�� Madigan asked, pushing her bowl away from her and leaning back in her chair.

  She wants help with her investigation. Bad.

  “It’s just I have a lot going on right now,” Grace said. “We’re under a lot of pressure to solve this case and bring the person who killed Lily to justice, and I need to focus. Can you please promise me you won’t see John again?”

  “Do you think he’d hurt me?” Madigan frowned.

  “You know I can’t talk about it much, but I’m looking out for your best interests. If we can clear John as a suspect, then you can move forward with your own investigation, alright, and I’ll help.”

  Madigan folded her arms over her chest and stared down at the table.

  I hate manipulating my own sister, but I have to keep her safe.

  “Promise me you’ll stay away from him, and I promise I’ll talk to Joe Harris. Maybe not tomorrow, but as soon as I can. Alright?”

  “Fine,” Madigan said and picked up her spoon again. “I just need to know.”

  “I know.” Grace poured them each a glass of wine. “There are so many obstacles and challenges in this investigation, and I’m doing my best, but I feel like we aren’t getting anywhere. It’s the politics of the business, and it’s followed me all the way to Tall Pines.”

  “Any way around it?” Madigan asked.

  “I’m not as resourceful as you,” Grace said, smirking. “I can’t be, really. I have to follow the rules.” She smoothed her napkin in her lap.

  If I break the rules, I could lose everything again.

  “Generally speaking,” Madigan said, “a white lie can go a long way. Make someone think you know more than you do, maybe.”

  “Hmm,” Grace hummed, sipping her wine.

  Madigan’s face filled with concern.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing.” Madigan shook her head. “Have you noticed John’s weakness?”

  “Right now, it’s that he’s the suspect of his fiancée’s murder investigation, and he’s isolated.”

  Madigan nodded. “That, and he is protective of people, and that gives him a blind spot. I’m the same sometimes.”

  Grace nodded. “Like he admits that realistically Evette lies and manipulates, but he still defends her. Makes sure she’s protected.”

  And he didn’t say a word about his dealings with Mickey to protect himself and Evette after he was threatened. If he was threatened.