BF 2nd edition

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BF 2nd edition Page 10

by Isabel Curtis


  "Listen, I have some bad news." She sounded too serious. Had something bad happened to Hayden? There was no way he could bear losing another family member. "The gun Hayden used to shoot Luke is the same one used to kill Marika Ross. There are no other fingerprints." She waited for James to say something, but he was so overwhelmed that he had lost his ability to speak.

  "James,they are charging her with first degree murder." When he hung up the phone, everyone was staring at him.

  "What happened?" Will asked, breaking the silence and looking straight into his brother's eyes. He knew bad news was on its way. James tried to explain what was going on, but nothing made sense. Even finding the right words seemed impossible, it was all too absurd to even put into words – let alone be real. Could his sister have turned into a cold blooded killer all of a sudden? It couldn't be; it just couldn't. There was no way he was going to accept that. There was something bigger going on out there, somebody was using Hayden as personal puppet and he was determined to figure out who, and why.

  He ran to Hayden's room, grabbed her phone, a pen and piece of paper, then returned to the living room, where everyone else was wondering what had gotten into him.

  "Does anyone know this guy?" he asked, showing everyone a picture he found while searching Hayden's phone earlier that day.

  "It's Lorenzo Perez," Jesse J. said, without hesitation.

  "Why?"

  "Brother, what's going on?" Will asked, trying to figure out what James had in mind.

  "I don't know, and that's what we are going to find out," he said, while slamming the paper on the table, getting ready to write.

  "There's no way we are going to be able to find Hayden by wandering aimlessly around town, and sitting around won't do any good, so we might as well help her out by trying to figure out what she has been doing lately and who might be trying to get her arrested and charged for things she didn't do."

  "You think someone is setting her up?" Lisa asked, perplexed.

  "You think my sister killed Marika?" he asked, in a challenging tone.

  "I don't know. I'm just saying that they found her fingerprints on the gun so proving – ."

  "I think you should leave," he said in a calm yet mad tone, turning his back on her and staring at the paper on the table. No one else spoke.

  "James – "

  "I said LEAVE!" he yelled. "And if anyone else here thinks that my sister is guilty, they are welcome to go as well." An uncomfortable silence fell, and no one dared to make a move. Except for Lisa, who quickly grabbed her coat and purse and walked out the front door, slamming it. As she left, James looked at each one of his friends in the eye, awaiting the next betrayal. But it never came: no one else left.

  "Good," he said. "Let's get to work now." Everyone was now gathered around the table.

  He wrote down on the paper some names, each one somehow connected to Hayden.

  A.K.A. MARIKA

  HAYDEN

  PEREZ LUKE

  "We need to understand how each one of them is linked to Hayden, any ideas?"

  "I assume A.K.A stands for Ashley, Kristina and Allyson?" Will asked.

  "I was thinking Allyson, Kristina and Ashley," Jesse J. said cracking a smile, hoping to ease the tension. "It seemed more fitting."

  "J! Focus," ordered James, not too angry.

  "Okay so... AKA, Marika and Hayden go to the same school," Mike said.

  "Right." James connected the names with an arrow.

  "A.K.A and Luke are friends," Will said, and James drew lines.

  "Luke and Hayden had something going on," continued Will, as James connected the two names on the piece of paper.

  "Then?" James asked. He was waiting for someone else to shout the right connection, and so was everyone else. But no one spoke.

  "That's it? Is that all we've got?"

  "James, we barely knew what Hayden did lately... how do you expect us to know something about someone we have never even heard of before?" Mike said.

  "There's gotta be someone out there who knows something!" he exclaimed.

  "I think I can make a few phone calls," Jesse J. said, already with his phone in hand.

  "Great, you do that," he said, as Jesse J. left the room dialing a number. "I'll go talk to the three witches."

  "The police already interrogated them," George pointed out. "And besides, even if they were hiding something, they'll never tell you."

  "Don't underestimate me," he said, winking. "Alex, you come with me."

  "I think I should go talk to Marika's parents," Will said. "Maybe we are missing something here."

  "I'll come with you," Magda said.

  "And what am I supposed to do?" Mike asked.

  "You stay here with George, in case more bad news arrives over the phone," James said, hinting at Mrs Selling's phone calls, "and you let me know if Jesse J. figures something out."

  "Fine."

  "And keep searching that computer!" James said while grabbing his jacket and car keys.

  "I've told you already, there's nothing. And I'm not a hacker anyways..." Mike said as the door closed, unsure his brother had heard that last observation.

  March 30th

  Dear Diary,

  It's 1.30 am right now, that's all I know. My location is N/A.

  I met a girl, we're in a motel right now. Her name is Sunrise (or so she says) and I'm still trying to figure out if she's really crazy or just pretending to be. In any case, it's good to have some company – and money. We spent the day on the road, but to be honest I have absolutely no clue where we are headed. We just follow the highway, and sometimes Sunrise tells me to take an exit and we change directions. I think she just does that totally random, but she likes to pretend we are actually going somewhere definite while we are really just changing highways every once in a while. She likes to keep the music up really loud, windows down and the wind messing up our hair... I'd enjoy it too if it weren't so freaking cold.

  I wonder what's going on back home... especially what my brothers are doing. They must be out of their minds.

  I'm prisoner of a life I don't know how to live. I told Sunrise that I'm planning on never going back and just sit around waiting for time to fix this whole mess, I don't mind the highway that much. The view is nice. But she told me that's really stupid, she said: "Time does not fix anything, you fix things." And I think she's right, but this scares me as fuck: how do you mend a broken life? I'm such a mess. I need a troubleshoot button...that'd be nice.

  H.

  PS. I missed my second appointment with the therapist today, so much for not screwing things up.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Why do you keep a journal?" Sunrise asked as she walked out of the bathroom wearing just a towel. Hayden was sitting on the queen size bed next to the entrance, updating her diary, with the bedside lamp lit.

  "I don't know," she said, looking up. "I started when I was in middle school, my mother suggested it. She said it was good way to keep track of time passing by and to record more memories. She used to keep diaries too when she was younger and she told me that re-reading them after many years was a cool thing. I'm not so sure about that anymore. I think now I just do it because it helps me put my thoughts in order. Sometimes even chaos needs a little disposition."

  "So twenty years from now will you be reading these entries to your kids?" Sunrise asked in a teasing tone, while taking some clothes out from her bag.

  "I really don't think so," Hayden said, laughing. "Besides, I'm not having kids," she said, while putting her diary away and getting up. "They grow up to be a mess, in a messed up world. Who'd want that for their children?"

  "That's a very pessimistic way of putting it," Sunrise commented as she took out from her backpack a pair of high heels.

  "Are you going somewhere?" Hayden asked, puzzled by the sudden appearance of those shoes.

  "We are running out of money, so I'm working tonight," she expla
ined, trying to sound casual.

  "Working?" Hayden asked.

  "Uhuh," is all she said, as she walked back into the bathroom and closed the door, bringing a beauty case with her.

  Ten minutes later Sunrise appeared in front of Hayden with heavy makeup on, and wearing just a short sleeveless skimpy black dress with a plunging neckline that revealed too much. She didn't bother saying anything while she collected a few personal belongings and some money to put in a small black purse she'd be carrying along that night.

  "Don't wait up for me," is all she said before walking out of the motel room. Hayden turned the TV on, unsure of what to think. But a second later she ran to the window to see which way Sunrise went, but she was already out of sight, swallowed by the darkness. They barely knew each other, so she had no right to expect – let alone pretend – an explanation, but she still felt somehow betrayed by that clandestine behavior.

  ****

  The television was still on when Hayden woke up: she didn't remember falling asleep but it must have happened not long after Sunrise had left. She was still wearing her day clothes, and as she got up to undress and put her pajamas on she heard a familiar voice coming from the corridor outside. That must have been the sound that had awoken her in the first place. She opened the door and stepped into the cold darkness that enveloped the whole place, just slightly illuminated by dim night-lights randomly placed – here and there - on the walls of the motel.

  A few doors down Sunrise, wearing her unusual clothes and a different smile, was opening another motel room followed by an old man that was all over her, drunk on alcohol and intoxicated by lust. He grabbed Sunrise from behind and pushed her against the wall – and began kissing her face and neck vehemently. As Sunrise pretended to take pleasure in that wrong act of non-affection, she turned her face away and unexpectedly met Hayden's eyes. Two long seconds that spoke louder than words. The man, unaware of Hayden's distant presence, led Sunrise into the room, and slammed the door shut, leaving the rest of the world outside.

  Just the cold wind on Hayden's skin convinced her to get back inside.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Guess what I've just found out?" Jesse J. said out loud in a proud tone, to an empty living room except for George who was sitting at the couch watching TV. "Where the hell is everyone?" he asked, noticing that no one was where he left them twenty minutes ago.

  "They are off interrogating a bunch of people," Mike replied as he walked back into the living room with a steamy cup of coffee.

  "Interrogating?"

  "Well, I mean... you get the idea," he said, resuming his seat in front of Hayden's laptop. "Anyway, what did you find?"

  "Man, hear this," Jesse J. said excitedly, as he grabbed a chair and sat next to Mike. "I've made a few phone calls and I've talked to a few people who knew other people – "

  "J, just get to the point," George said as he joined them at the table.

  "Right. It turns out that Lorenzo Perez is the main local drug supplier, like this dude owns most of the market. He has dealers everywhere and he's like the super boss!" he said, proud of his discovery.

  "Why would Hayden want to kill him?" Mike asked, puzzled.

  "Here comes the interesting part, bro. For the last year or so A.K.A. have been trying to get Perez's place: they started selling a new drug on the market, and trying to ruin his business... but apparently he's hard to take down."

  "Are we talking about rival drug cartels?" George said.

  "You bet. Apparently they are fighting each other. It's a territory- control thing, ya know," Jesse J. said finally, lighting up a cigarette.

  "Wow. Okay. I still don't get how Hayden can be involved in all of this but at least we have a new connection," Mike said, as he added a new line on the piece of paper, connecting the two names.

  "I kinda like being an investigator," Jesse J. said. "Usually, I'm the one being investigated on," he said, laughing out loud.

  "You're such an idiot," Mike said, laughing along with George. Then his cellphone rang, and Will's name appeared on the screen.

  "Hey, Will, where are you?" Mike said, as he answered the phone putting the speaker on so that Jesse J. and George could hear too.

  "We just finished talking to Marika's parents," Will said, as he and Magda got in the car. "We're headed back home."

  "Did they say anything?" Mike asked.

  "Well, yes... but I'm not sure it has anything to do with Hayden. Do you remember Scott Ross?"

  "Marika's brother?" he said, hesitantly, looking at Jesse J. in search of approval. But he just shrugged, proving that he did not know who Scott was either.

  "That's right," Will confirmed.

  "Yeah well, I remember Hayden talking about him like a year ago."

  "Actually that was eight months ago, to be precise. When he died; drug overdose."

  "Right, but what about him?"

  "Well his parents said that an investigation was open back then, because apparently it wasn't the usual drug that killed him, but the investigation never led anywhere, so Marika started asking questions on her own." Dying of a drug overdose was something policemen were used to seeing, and only in very rare occasions did they waste their time investigating those deaths: the victim was dead, the supplier too hard to identify and the drug dealers easily replaceable. Finding the criminal was pointless, and too much hard work.

  "There was a new drug going around?" George asked, trying to put the pieces together.

  "That's what the police believed, but they never found anything so they stopped investigating." He paused for a second.

  "There's something else too. It looks like Marika was getting too close to the truth."

  "She found the guy who sold the drug to her brother?" Jesse J asked.

  "No, she found the supplier."

  "Who?" Mike asked.

  "Ashley Dawson," he said, "or at least that's what Marika's parents told me."

  "How sure are they?" Mike wondered.

  "They said that's the last thing their daughter told them before leaving the house the day she was shot. They said she told them she had to go talk to someone about it."

  "Hayden?"

  "That's my guess," he said, ending the call and turning the car engine on.

  ****

  "This is the fourth disco-pub we've looked in," Alex said, wearily. "We'll never find them."

  "Yes we will, have some faith," James said, as they got back into the car after having been inside the Old Fashion, one of the many pubs the town offered – and where he knew, sooner or later, he'd find who they were looking for.

  It was already two am, and Mike had called three times: once to inform his brother of what they had found out about Lorenzo Perez and Marika's brother, and the other two times to tell him "it's late, come home". But he was not going to give up, he had to talk to them. It wasn't like three girls could just vanish; if they weren't hanging out at their usual places, then they were hiding somewhere.

  "Where would you hide?" James asked, sitting at the driver's seat.

  "What?" Alex asked, puzzled, unsure if he was just too tired to understand James or his question was really out of the blue.

  "If you were them," he explained, "Where would you hide? They're not where they are supposed to be so they're trying to keep a low profile, I assume."

  "Well, I'd stay home," Alex said, after some deep thinking.

  "Seriously?"

  "Yes, I mean I'd try to act normal but not much; I wouldn't want to draw much attention, but disappearing would give me the opposite result so I'd stay close, but in the clear. So if I were them, I'd stay home."

  "That's why I brought you along, man," he said smirking, turning the engine on and driving away. "You use your brains."

  They headed towards the first house, Kristina's, which was the nearest. Finding out their home address wasn't hard: all the information was a phone call away, thanks to Jesse J. James was driving in total silence, fo
cusing on the road and lost in his worries.

  "I'm sure she's fine," Alex said, breaking the silence.

  "Are you reading my mind?" James replied, hinting a smile, not taking his eyes off the road.

  "It's not hard to guess what you're thinking. I'm certain Hayden is somewhere safe."

  "Yeah well, I don't know if I should be more worried about where she is right now, or where she'll be when this will be all over," he confessed, stopping at a red light despite the deserted roads.

  "Since when do you stop at red lights?" Everyone in town considered traffic signals useless, especially at night when the streets were empty, and James had always ignored red lights just like everyone else.

  "Since I need time to focus, and not go insane. Plus, it's called safety," he said, making a left turn at the green traffic light.

  "What are you afraid of?"

  James remained silent for a while, then said,

  "I spoke to Mrs Selling, about what could come next, you know, when Hayden will be back and her case solved and all – best case scenario." Positive thinking was an attitude he got from his mother, and he wanted to believe that everything was going to be okay, someday.

  "And what did she say?"

  "There's no chance they'll let her stay," he sighed.

  "So this is either gonna end bad, or worse?"

  "Those look like the only options, yeah," he said, pulling over. "Anyways, here we are."

  Kristina lived in what looked like a nice townhouse, in a good neighborhood; you'd never tell a girl involved in such bad business could live there. You'd think that those who have it all would appreciate life more. It's a shame how many people actually don't.

  "So now what?" Alex asked, getting out of the car.

  "You're not just gonna knock, are you?"

  "Why not?" James asked, already at the doorstep.

  "It's two-thirty am, you can't just go ringing doorbells at this time of night!"

 

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