Between Love and Murder

by Chris Bedell

“Fine. I can take a hint.” He grabbed the champagne bottle, only to shake his head. Apparently, the alcohol went quicker than expected—even if it was only the two of us as opposed to a college party.

  I wiped my eye. “I should thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Waiting for me. Most guys would grow impatient.”

  “That’s easy.” He batted his eyes, then leaned forward. Our lips were now less than inch from each other. “You’re worth it.”

  “Smart answer.”

  “I was gonna wait till I dropped you at home but fuck it.” Archie grabbed my shirt collar before kissing me. His hands traveled up my neck to my cheeks. After that, I slipped out of my leather jacket. There wasn’t even a faint chill in the air, so I shouldn’t have been so zealous with my wardrobe—I was the guy who sported shorts in winter.

  Whether either one of us discussed Mallory again during our date didn’t matter, though. We had the beach to ourselves, so seizing the opportunity for making out was our only concern. Life might not have been perfect, yet somehow the universe handed me another picturesque moment to hold onto, and I’d take it. No telling when the opportunity would arise again.

  SATURDAY, OCTOBER 13, 2018

  Rebecca and I sat at a table in front of Café Tomorrow—the air still hadn’t reached its vindictive, lung-stinging coldness—while a pigeon nibbled on something poking out from a nearby garbage can before flying away.

  “Thanks for this.” She blew on her coffee, then sipped it. “Being a loser and eating by myself wouldn’t have been fun.”

  “Good to know I’m the backup.”

  She glared at me. “Don’t be like that. It’s not my fault Dan forgot he had a tutoring session today.”

  Interesting. Perhaps I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t take a joke.

  “Don’t worry about it. Having someone to dissect my date with is the perfect way to spend my morning.” I broke off part of my croissant before dunking it in my coffee.

  She clapped her hand over her mouth. “That’s right! I forgot about you and Archie. How was it?”

  No need for her dramatics. We were discussing romance, not a terminal cancer diagnosis. So, Rebecca could save her theatrics for when someone casted her in an Oscar winning role.

  I smirked. “Let’s just say last night is the closest I’ve ever come to having sex on a beach.”

  “Good for you—I’m impressed.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Are you gonna have a second date?” Rebecca asked.

  My jaw didn’t even shudder. “Absolutely.”

  “Good.” She finished her remaining coffee, then pushed her mug to the side. “But there’s something we need to discuss.”

  Perfect. Nothing to ruin the morning like a phrase that resembled a blaring siren—I deserved a few minutes of pleasure before speculating about when the next annoying thing would occur.

  “Yes?” I forced out.

  “I don’t blame you for how you feel about Mallory, but you need to let your anger go,” she said. “It’s not healthy.”

  No offense to Rebecca, but it wasn’t her job to determine what was and wasn’t healthy. I was entitled to my feelings, so she should’ve saved her breath.

  “What? Do you wanna be friends with her?” I asked.

  “No, but you’re never gonna be happy if you’re so consumed about what Mallory is planning next.”

  I sighed. “Enough about me. I’d rather talk about you and Dan.”

  “Not so fast. What I’m saying is important.”

  Okay, Mom. If she wanted to resemble a parent, then so be it. I couldn’t do anything to change her mind if she remained intent on lecturing me.

  She patted my hand. “I only want nice things for you.”

  “I know, I know.”

  “I’m serious. This kind of energy isn’t healthy.”

  “She took Archie from me twice,” I said, raising my voice.

  “That’s over with.”

  Easy for her to say. Dan wasn’t the one with wandering eyes. It wasn’t that I thought Archie would cheat on me—I just couldn’t forget about all of his interactions with Mallory. Manipulating Archie wasn’t the same as putting a gun to his head—only a fool would’ve thought Archie didn’t enjoy spending time with Mallory.

  MONDAY, OCTOBER 15, 2018

  I rounded the corner in the school hallway on my way to baking class, only to bump into Gemma.

  “Wanna walk to class together?” she asked.

  “Fine by me.”

  We clipped down the remainder hallway before turning left and shuffling down another corridor. But I didn’t speak. Not when my conversation with Rebecca still weighed on my mind. She should’ve known better than to tell me how to feel and think. Even if she didn’t have malicious intentions. I would’ve liked to see how she would’ve reacted if someone threatened her relationship with Dan.

  Gemma tilted her head. “Something wrong?”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  She halted before touching my arm. “If something is bothering you, then please tell me.”

  “Just about Mallory.”

  “Did she do something?”

  “Not yet, but it doesn’t change my gut instincts,” I said.

  “Always go with your intuition.”

  My shoulders tensed. “It’s not like I’m having a psychotic break.”

  She giggled. “Don’t apologize for your feelings.”

  “If Mallory proves me wrong, then great. But I’m not clueless,” I said.

  “It’d be nice to get an answer about what’s going on.” Gemma flicked the hair stuck in her jacket behind her shoulder. “My parents are still livid about Tommy’s trust fund being raided before he disappeared.”

  I furrowed my brow. “Mallory said your parents weren’t too distraught about Tommy’s absence.”

  “She’s lying,” Gemma said, voice cracking. “They’ve had more than one sleepless night concerning Tommy.”

  “And the trust fund?”

  Gemma scanned the hallway—no teachers or students were within earshot. “Money doesn’t disappear into thin air for no reason. It’s not like Tommy had to go to someone for access to it. The trust fund was linked to his bank account, and he only needed his debit card.”

  “What are you saying?” I asked.

  “I’m still convinced Mallory had something to do with Tommy vanishing,” she said.

  Whether or not Gemma’s hunch was correct, I couldn’t shake her comment about the money. That was something tangible, and it might be a clue. And I couldn’t forget about the lying. Being dishonest about something that was verifiable wasn’t smart—it seemed like Mallory got sloppy. But the implications from what Gemma said were another thing. Speculating was all I could do until I discovered more answers.

  AFTER

  TUESDAY, JANUARY 15, 2019

  I shuffled through the school hallway on the way to lunch, only to cross paths with Gemma.

  She put her hands on her hips. “You haven’t given me an answer.”

  “I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

  “Don’t bullshit me—you’re avoiding me.”

  “I need time to decide what I want to do.”

  Gemma pulled me aside when a couple of other students flocked by. “There’s nothing to ponder. Mallory is a bitch and deserves to be destroyed.”

  Perhaps Mallory wasn’t the only one who needed counseling. If Gemma wasn’t careful, then she might explode in front of the wrong person. And that would be great—especially if said person was me. Having two unhinged people in my life was my dream, and I couldn’t have been more grateful if I tried.

  “It must be lonely being you,” I said.

  “I can live with loneliness if I get justice for Tommy.”

  “Why not go to the police?” I asked.

  “What I have in my mind is much worse than the police could ever do”

  Good to know I wasn’t on Gemma’s shit-list. I didn’t wanna consi
der what she would’ve done to me if I pissed her off.

  I elevated my eyebrows. “You really think it’s your job to get justice?”

  “Somebody has to keep people honest,” Gemma said.

  I sighed. “Mallory has been trying to become a better person.”

  “I find that hard to believe.” Gemma scoffed. “What did she do? Help an old lady cross the street?”

  “I’m serious, Gemma. She’s been seeing a therapist to deal with her parents dying.”

  Her eyes widened. “You believe her?”

  “I checked with Kelly—it’s true.”

  “What if Kelly’s lying?”

  “She has no reason to extend herself for Mallory—they’ve never gotten along.”

  She grumbled. “Who cares if she’s trying to be a better person? She’s the reason Tommy died, so that makes her a terrible person.”

  Yikes. Gemma wasn’t just slightly unhinged—she was committed to this whole revenge thing. And I had another reason to stay awake at night. Her tenacity and determination suggested she wouldn’t stop till she got what she wanted. A chill rolled up my back. There were a thousand possibilities of what Gemma’s revenge could entail, and each scenario was worse than the previous one.

  “But it was to protect me,” I said.

  “Stop making excuses for her.” Gemma pushed a chunk of her hair to the side. “Mallory would’ve found another reason for killing Tommy if you weren’t involved in the situation.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You don’t blame me for Tommy’s death?”

  “No!” Gemma exclaimed. “And please don’t make me repeat myself again. I’ve got a mission, and I’m not gonna stop till Mallory gets what’s coming to her.”

  “I want more time.”

  “For what?” Gemma asked. “Divine intervention? Mallory is never gonna change who she is, and the sooner you accept that fact the better.”

  “How can you be so cold?”

  “I’m not the monster everyone thinks I am,” Gemma said.

  “I find that hard to believe. You’ve done nothing to give me a positive impression of you.”

  “I’m letting you and your friends off the hook for covering up Tommy’s murder.”

  “You can turn on me any moment,” I said.

  “Fine.” She grunted so loud I almost thought the teachers that just passed us would glare, but they didn’t. Instead, Gemma rolled up her sleeve. A pink streak on her lower arm became visible, and I almost literally bit my tongue. No matter how twisted the universe was, it always found a way for me to think it was worse. “My father did this to me when I was twelve. Something about me needing to learn children shouldn’t talk until spoken to.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I don’t care what anyone else thinks of me—Tommy and I did what we needed to survive.”

  “Sleeping with your brother provided the comfort you needed?” I asked.

  “You make it sound worse than it is.”

  I chuckled. “That’s incest.”

  “Call it whatever you want. All I know is that Tommy was the love of my life, and Mallory took him from me.”

  “I met your father once after chatting with your mother about Tommy. He was something else, but I never thought he was abusive,” I said.

  “Count yourself lucky you never saw how evil he really was.”

  Once I made a decision about helping Gemma, there was no going back. So, yeah. Whether I thought about the point once or a million times didn’t matter. I had to make sure I’d be okay with whatever decision I reached. Regret was about the only feeling that surpassed betrayal.

  “Anyway, you have one week,” Gemma said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m serious. I want an answer by end of the school day on Tuesday January 22nd or you and your friends might go down with Mallory.”

  “You wouldn’t do that,” I said.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. But you don’t wanna test me.” Gemma threw her backpack over her shoulder, then trekked down the hallway.

  Decisions. Decisions.

  I could either forgive Mallory or not. But I couldn’t keep vacillating—the ambiguity wasn’t healthy and would only cause more dark circles under my eyes. I should’ve asked Gemma what her plan entailed, though. Scheming was one thing, yet I couldn’t help her if she planned on physically harming Mallory—violence was one step too far. I could at least pretend to have principles.

  WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 16, 2019

  I planned on baking brownies after school while Mom was at yoga, yet the doorbell rang several times. And I’d pray I didn’t have to deal with an impromptu visit from Gemma—I had six more days before I had to make a decision.

  My shoulders tensed upon opening the front door.

  Gemma wasn’t the reason for blinking several times, though. Sunlight glinted against gold badges attached to both the man and woman’s belts.

  “Can I help you?” I asked.

  The woman offered her hand. “I’m Bonnie Jones, and this is my partner Skip Garrison. We’re with the local police department and would like to ask you some questions about Tommy Drake.”

  “Should I be talking with you? My mother isn’t home,” I said.

  “You aren’t a person of interest, so we aren’t breaking any rules.” Detective Garrison rubbed his mustache, which covered every spec of skin above his lip. “Unless you’ve got something to hide.”

  Detective Jones nudged her partner. “What did I tell you about being more personable? You’re never gonna get promoted if your reputation doesn’t improve.”

  Slamming the door in their faces tempted me for a split second. I wasn’t a suspect and avoiding them would be easier. But I also watched my fair share of Law and Order reruns, so I wouldn’t have done anything to attract attention—even if someone paid a billion dollars.

  I gesticulated at them. “Please come inside.”

  They entered my home, and I closed the door behind them.

  “Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee? Soda? Water?” I asked.

  Detective Garrison groaned. “This isn’t a social call.”

  “You’ll have to excuse my partner,” Detective Jones said. “He’s having an off month and forgot his manners. He meant to say refreshments won’t be necessary since we’re here on official police business.”

  Detective Garrison adjusted his tie. “More like an off year.”

  “Okay. What can I do for you?” I asked.

  “We know you were friends with Mallory,” Detective Jones replied.

  “Yeah, I was. But I’m not quite sure how that fact is relevant,” I said.

  “We were wondering if you could provide insight into Mallory and Tommy’s relationship? Were they happy?” Detective Jones said.

  I raised my eyebrows. “What kind of insight?”

  Just because my pulse didn’t reverberate in my ears didn’t mean I couldn’t be careful. I wouldn’t give them extra information. Not when my entire future could be ripped away from me at a moment’s notice.

  “Did they ever argue?” Detective Jones asked.

  “Is Mallory a suspect?” I asked.

  “We can’t comment on an ongoing investigation,” Detective Garrison spat.

  Detective Jones giggled. “Lighten up, Skip. Some honesty might encourage Chad to be truthful with us. It’d be hypocritical to expect his cooperation and be totally clammed up about the investigation.”

  “Just trying to do things by the book,” Detective Garrison said.

  Go Detective Jones! If didn’t know better, then I would’ve suspected she was best friends with Archie’s sister, Andrea. Andrea would’ve had no problem breaking protocol if she was a cop.

  “Rules are overrated,” Detective Jones said.

  I snickered. Might as well have found a little humor in the situation if I couldn’t figure out what their agenda was.

  “Could you answer my question?” I asked.

  “Yes.” Detective Jones gripp
ed her ponytail where it was laying across her shoulder. “Mallory is a person of interest in the case, so if you know anything—even something that might seem irrelevant—then don’t hesitate to tell us. It’s our job to put the pieces together.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t have much to tell you. Mallory and Tommy seemed happy,” I said.

  Detective Garrison stared me down. “That’s an interesting response.”

  I shrugged. “What? Do you want me to lie and say they were the perfect couple?”

  “No,” Detective Jones said, throwing a gaze over her shoulder. “We don’t want you to be phony with us.”

  “I’m sure their relationship had problems like any other couple, but I’ve got no doubt they cared about each other,” I said.

  “That’s an interesting response.” Detective Jones rubbed his mustache for a second time, taking longer than the first time. “Tommy’s parents and sister paint a different picture.”

  “You’ve spoken to them?” I asked.

  “Yes, we have,” Detective Jones said.

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but if there’s something juicy to know, then I’m not the one to tell you,” I said.

  “No shit,” Detective Garrison said.

  Perhaps Detective Garrison should’ve seen a proctologist. There was no reason for his current demeanor. It wasn’t like I did anything to him. I might not have been a detective, but that wasn’t required for agreeing with Detective Jones. If Detective Garrison and Jones—or any other cop—expected civilian cooperation, then they needed to present themselves in a warm light. Instead, either one of them could have been cast as the witch from Hansel and Gretel.

  Detective Jones patted my shoulder. “Don’t fret, dear. You did a great job, and we appreciate your cooperation.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Detective Garrison touted.

  “We’ll let ourselves out.” Detective Jones dragged her partner by the arm and the door slammed behind them after a beat.

  I pressed my hand against my neck once their car’s clunky ignition was no longer audible. Catching my breath was the least I deserved. Panic was still mandatory, even if I wasn’t a suspect. If Mallory was a person of interest, then that could unravel everything from the night of the Snowflake Ball, and I might’ve been headed to prison.

  So, maybe, just maybe, Gemma’s offer screamed at me more and more with each passing second. If Mallory was gonna go down for killing Tommy, then she might as well have gone down in a way that didn’t expose Archie and me. It was something to think about. I didn’t have unlimited chances and had to give Gemma an answer at some point.