Between Love and Murder

by Chris Bedell

  FRIDAY, JANUARY 18, 2019

  I walked down the hallway on my way to my locker before first period, only for my heart to flutter.

  Mallory stood by Archie’s locker, yet it wasn’t their conversation that concerned me. Mallory’s posture would cause me to need Botox for the frown lines currently creasing my face. Her hands were around Archie’s neck, straightening the collar of his polo shirt.

  “What’s going on here?” I asked a moment later.

  Mallory laughed. “Nothing. Your boyfriend is a slob, and I was just doing him a favor.”

  “There was nothing wrong with my collar,” Archie said.

  “It was crooked, and your buttons were undone,” Mallory said.

  Archie gawked at her. “I didn’t realize you worked for the fashion police.”

  “Chad deserves a decent boyfriend,” Mallory said.

  Deep breaths. They were only laughing—it wasn’t like I walked in on them in bed.

  I might not have had to find them having sex for almost screaming, though. Flirting with Archie in front of me was the ultimate treachery. If I said anything, then I’d resemble someone who needed counseling. Being labeled a lunatic was the last thing I needed when I had my whole life ahead of me.

  “Something wrong?” Mallory asked.

  “I just miss winter break,” I said. “We’re lucky that we have two weeks off as opposed to all the other neighboring towns.”

  Archie clapped my shoulder. “Tell me about it. Nothing like waking up past noon.”

  “Are you sure everything is okay?” Mallory asked, raising her voice slightly. “You don’t seem fine, and we’d want to know if something was wrong.”

  Wait. She might’ve been trying to provoke me, and I couldn’t have that. I wouldn’t lose my relationship with Archie on an impulsive whim.

  My smile expanded. “Yeah. Everything is fine.”

  What Archie didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. No big deal if this conversation made me closer to accepting Gemma’s offer. I’d do whatever action necessary to save my relationship with Archie. Nothing would stop me.

  MONDAY, JANUARY 21, 2019

  I sat in Kelly’s office, sipping tea during one of my free periods.

  Chatting with Kelly somehow seemed like a good idea—even if being Mallory’s sister meant having some innate sense of loyalty despite their mutual hatred. Talking to a stranger was sometimes easier than talking to a friend or family member.

  “Thank you for meeting with me even though it’s not about a school matter,” I said.

  She raised her palms at me. “Please. I’m always happy to meet with students.”

  “You might wanna lock your door for this one.”

  “Okay.” Kelly rose, then shuffled towards the door. It clinked after another beat before she returned to her chair. “What’s up?”

  “What if you had to do something terrible?” I asked.

  Her elbows slid onto her desk. “I have no problem talking, but we need to get a few things straight.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “If you’re thinking about hurting yourself, then I’d have to report it.”

  Kelly needed a dose of reality ASAP. I wasn’t sure how she could make the leap to suicide. That was a big stretch even if teachers and adults had to be more sensitive about students’ emotional needs.

  “This has nothing to do with depression or suicide,” I said.

  “You sure?” she asked.

  Okay. Either Kelly cared about her job or she was really neurotic. I hadn’t given Kelly any indication about intending to harm myself, because that possibility wasn’t an option. Not now, not ever. I had too much to live for—whether it was my writing, Archie, or post high school life. And Kelly would drop the inquisition if she knew what was best for her. Further questions about my mental health would’ve only wasted time.

  “Yes.” I took a bigger sip of my tea this time. “Actually, it’s about someone you know.”

  “Don’t tell me it’s about the Tommy situation? I thought we agreed to keep our mouths shut and keep things vague with the police?”

  “This isn’t about the Tommy situation,” I lied.

  Her eyes practically bugged out of her head. “It’s not?”

  “Nope. But I’m not at liberty to say more.”

  “I can do vague.”

  “Someone made me an offer and I’m not sure if I should accept or not,” I said.

  She finished the rest of her tea. “You might have to be a little more specific.”

  “It’s better if I’m not.”

  “You’re scaring me.”

  Please. No need for Kelly’s fake concern. Not after some of the things I knew about her. She’d done much worse and shouldn’t’ve waited till now to develop a conscience.

  “This deal would secure my future.” I gulped my tea. “Although someone would get hurt, and I’m not sure if I could live with that.”

  “I’ve got a question for you,” Kelly said.

  “I’m listening.”

  She drummed her fingers against her desk. “Does the person deserve it?”

  The events of the last few months flashed through my mind. More specifically, Mallory’s menacing look when I talked to Archie the first time, her indecent proposal, the detectives being onto Mallory anyway, and Mallory getting cute with Archie. And there’re more things Mallory might’ve done that escaped me for the moment.

  I didn’t even blink. “Yes. This person is the worst.”

  “Then you’ve got your answer.”

  TUESDAY, JANUARY 22, 2019

  I sat down in one of the leather lounge chairs at Café Tomorrow after school.

  “About time.” Gemma closed her book, then shoved it to the side. “I’m not a patient person and need an answer.”

  I hesitated. “I’ve never done this type of thing before.”

  “I understand, but that’s not an answer.”

  I cleared my throat. “I’ll help you on one condition.”

  Gemma pushed her headband further up her head. “And what’s that?”

  “Nobody can ever know about this arrangement.”

  “Fine by me. Now how about we get some beverages and discuss what we should do?”

  “Great. I’d like a large, hot caramel macchiato—your treat.”

  “Fair enough.” Gemma rose, then got in line while my stomach sank.

  I had to keep reminding myself I was doing what needed to be done.

  I could accept my behavior someday—that was just wasn’t today. Not when Mallory’s face remained burned in my mind. Her hyena facial expression from when she spied on my first conversation with Archie was nothing compared to the look Mallory would give when she discovered I was responsible for her downfall.

  BEFORE

  TUESDAY, OCTOBER 16, 2018

  Not having concrete proof of Mallory’s involvement with Tommy’s disappearance didn’t stop me from doing something about my suspicions. Being wrong was the worst thing that could happen. Besides, I needed to protect myself. As much as I might’ve prided myself with not being vengeful like Mallory—such as with her dating Archie to hurt me—information might still be useful.

  So, yeah. I sat on Tommy and Gemma’s living room couch after school. Yet I wasn’t there to see Gemma.

  Mrs. Drake smiled at me. “It’s good to see you, dear. I can’t tell you how disappointed I was when Tommy ditched you freshman year.”

  I shifted my weight. “Don’t worry about it. There’s nothing you can do now.”

  “Doesn’t mean I’m happy with him.”

  “Gemma had the same reaction,” I said.

  “I don’t blame her.” She paused for a second, clutching her pearl necklace. “Nor do I blame myself. My unconditional love doesn’t mean I agree with everything Tommy did.”

  “If only more parents were as realistic as you.”

  Mrs. Drake grabbed her mug on the mahogany table in front of us, then sipped her tea. “What can I do for yo
u?”

  “This subject might be difficult for you, but I don’t have a choice.”

  She beamed her eyes. “Let me guess. You wanna discuss Tommy?”

  Creepy. First Gemma read my mind and now Mrs. Drake.

  Deep breaths. It wasn’t like someone implanted a chip in my brain and all my thoughts were visible to the public. I just should’ve been less obvious about my thoughts and feelings.

  “I’m not trying to offend you,” I said.

  “Stop. You never have to apologize for anything.” She snatched a cookie from the tin next to her cup, then made a series of crunching noises.

  Funny. I wouldn’t have expected someone who wore a pearl necklace, cardigan, Gucci blouse and matching pants, with hair wrapped in a bun to be so blasé about proper etiquette.

  Or maybe I just didn’t wanna believe Mallory was as evil as that day at Café Tomorrow when she confessed to pursuing Archie out of spite and didn’t want to know if she was behind what happened to Tommy. Whether logical or not, people were full of contradictions. Like someone who didn’t drink but was a chain smoker, or someone that had high blood pressure yet low sodium.

  Mrs. Drake cracked her knuckles. “Just say whatever you wanna say. I promise I won’t get angry.”

  Implicating Mallory in whatever happened to Tommy might’ve added more drama to the situation, yet I could talk around the issue.

  “What was your opinion of Mallory?” I asked.

  Her gaze narrowed. “Why do you ask?”

  I shrugged. “Let’s just say my opinion of Mallory has changed.”

  “Do you know something?”

  “Gemma just mentioned how Tommy isolated himself for Mallory. Tell me something. Do you agree with her assessment?”

  “Yes,” Mrs. Drake said, nodding. “That girl is poison.”

  Interesting. Good to know Gemma and I weren’t the only ones with a negative opinion of Mallory—so my feelings couldn’t have been in my head.

  “I also know about the missing money,” I said.

  Mrs. Drake snorted. “Gemma has a big mouth.”

  “I never said Gemma told me.”

  “You didn’t have to.” Mrs. Drake reached for her tea, then finished the rest of it. She even belched.

  “What do you think happened to Tommy?” I asked.

  “He probably raided his trust fund and ran away—he’s always been a rebellious kid.” Mrs. Drake inhaled a breath. “It wasn’t like there were any age restrictions on it. He’s always had access to it—like an allowance in one lump sum.”

  Mrs. Drake peeked at her watch, then her shoulders tensed. “I should get dinner started—Marcus doesn’t like it when dinner is late.”

  At the mention of her husband, I couldn’t stop myself from chuckling. Even I wouldn’t have worried about something as frivolous as dinner being a couple minutes behind schedule. There were more serious issues worth contemplating. And if Mr. Drake had that type of reaction over something insignificant, then I wouldn’t have wanted to be around him when something serious happened.

  “It’s only a little before four,” I said.

  “Doesn’t matter. The pot roast will take a while. Chatting with you was nice, though.”

  “Same.” I rose, then froze. I didn’t know how I first missed the issue, but Mrs. Drake’s left wrist was black and blue. “What happened to your hand?”

  “I’m just clumsy.”

  “Yeah, I know the feeling.” I was almost out of the living room when Mrs. Drake hollered at me.

  “Yes?” I asked.

  “I should apologize to you.”

  I blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “I shouldn’t have let Tommy cut you out of his life,” Mrs. Drake said. “Although I’ve got my own theories about why he did that.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “He was just so fond of you—always talking about you in the afternoons when he came home from school.” Mrs. Drake gripped her pearl necklace even tighter this time. In fact, the necklace would’ve broken if her hold increased anymore. “Like when I first dated Marcus in my junior year of high school.”

  No way. She couldn’t have just implied Tommy had a crush on me—even if there was more stuff with Tommy that I hadn’t unpacked. That was like saying someone had a 99 percent chance of being the victim of an alien abduction.

  “You really should leave—you don’t need to be here when Marcus arrives,” Mrs. Drake said.

  “Sure. Thanks again.” I darted out of the living room, shuffling towards the front door.

  The door burst open, and a man glared at me. “Long time no see, Chad.”

  “Mr. Drake,” I mumbled.

  “What are you doing here?” Mr. Drake stepped inside, then placed his briefcase on the table by the door.

  “I was reminiscing with Mrs. Drake about Tommy,” I said.

  “Call me Lisa,” Mrs. Drake chirped.

  Mr. Drake scowled. “Mrs. Drake is fine. It’s important for children to know their place in the world.”

  “Absolutely,” I said.

  Mr. Drake rolled up his sleeves. “What did you guys discuss about Tommy?”

  “Nothing important,” I interrupted.

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” Mr. Drake said.

  “He wanted to know my theories about Tommy,” Mrs. Drake said.

  Mr. Drake cackled. “No need to chat with my wife. I could’ve given you the truth.”

  If I didn’t know better, then I would’ve accused Mr. Drake of being sexist. This wasn’t the 1800’s, and he didn’t need to speak for his wife.

  Sweat dripped down my back. “Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”

  “The ungrateful shit is probably sitting on a beach somewhere, pissing away his trust fund.”

  Ouch. Even if Mr. Drake didn’t approve of Tommy’s choices, he still shouldn’t have referred to his son like that—as if he didn’t care if the police found Tommy.

  “Anyway, I should get going,” I said.

  Mr. Drake craned his neck. “Sure thing. But you’ve got an open invitation to stop by whenever you want.”

  “Thanks.” The front door clinked behind me, and I stood on the front porch for a beat.

  Yup. Goosebumps covered my arms and legs even though I couldn’t be sure of what happened in Gemma’s house behind closed doors. If Mr. Drake wanted people to have a good impression of him, then he hadn’t done himself any favors. At a first glance, Mrs. Drake’s “clumsy” explanation proved innocent yet—combined with Mr. Drake’s sexism—I wondered if something more sinister was happening in their house.

  What exactly my curiosity entailed was a question for another day. Just like the Mallory situation, I didn’t have much to hold onto. But I couldn’t say I was surprised—it was just like the universe. Expecting to find answers about one thing, only for the conversation to take another turn.

  So, there was only one thing for me to do—continue digging till I uncovered the truth.

  WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 17, 2018

  Sunlight radiated from the sky while Archie and I stood on the tennis court of the local country club, which we had to ourselves.

  I put my hands in front of my eyes, studying the opposite end of the tennis court. “You should be proud of yourself. You’re the only person who has ever gotten me to play sports.”

  “First time for everything,” Archie said.

  “You’re probably gonna win—my aim is off.”

  “Let me help you.” Archie walked to my side of the court, then took out an extra tennis ball from his pocket. He placed the tennis ball in my hand before standing behind me. After that, Archie wrapped his arms around mine, guiding them until smacking the tennis ball to the left of where Archie stood moments earlier.

  I laughed. “Not bad.”

  “Maybe I should’ve suggested something else for our date.”

  “I wanna be interested in things you like.”

  “Our relationship will survive if we don’t like the same things.�
�

  I sighed. “I know. But I don’t wanna be a buzzkill.”

  “You aren’t if you’re being your true self. I’m also secure enough in our relationship not to freak out over a small thing.”

  Relationship. There that word was again—Archie mentioned it twice in a short amount of time.

  So, yeah. I stroked my chin. Just because we got a chance, didn’t mean I labeled our interactions. Even if I wanted to be more than friends with him. Doing so too soon would’ve scared him away, and I would’ve kicked myself if that happened. The universe was bound to disappoint me again, so I’d enjoy happiness while I could.

  He raised his eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re thinking about something.”

  “It’s nice you referred to our dynamic as a relationship.”

  Archie winked. “What should I have referred to this as?”

  “No. Relationship was the right word.”

  Archie looped his arms around my neck, then stared into my eyes. “Glad we’re on the same page. Anyway, would you wanna grab some frozen yogurt?”

  “Sure. I’ll spoil my dinner for you.”

  “Good to know I’m special.” He pressed his lips against mine before placing his hands on my cheeks.

  Regardless of the truth about Mallory and Mr. Drake, I appreciated the simplicity of this moment with Archie. And not because it’d be fleeting like everything else in life. Archie and I were able to have a conversation about our dynamic without arguing. And said fact was worth everything in the world. Sometimes, one wrong turn in a conversation ended a relationship before it blossomed into its full, epic potential.

  THURSDAY, OCTOBER 18, 2018

  I arrived home from school, only to be greeted by the warm aroma of apples, sugar, and cinnamon while Mom stood in front of the oven, sipping coffee.

  “Hi, honey,” she said.

  “Don’t tell me something bad happened?”

  She gave me a dirty look. “I don’t need a reason to bake. Can’t I just do something nice?”