by Laura Snider
“Where’s Tom?”
“In our room,” Lydia said, chuckling darkly.
Our room? What. The. Literal. Fuck.
“Tom!” Ashley shouted at the top of her lungs. “Get out here. Now!” Her voice rose several octaves to a near screech. This desperation was completely unlike her. Distraught to the point of unrecognizability.
A few moments later a door flew open and Tom came stumbling out, rubbing his eyes. “What is it…” His sleep-garbled words trailed off when he saw Ashley in the doorway. He sucked in a deep breath and his eyes popped open, an expression that would be comical if Ashley’s world wasn’t crashing down around her.
There was a long beat of silence as Ashley and Tom eyed one another. Lydia stepped aside. Not out of kindness or deference, but to watch. To place herself front and center to the show, the demise of Ashley and Tom’s romance.
“You lied to me,” Ashley finally said, breaking the uneasy silence.
“I…”
“You’ve been avoiding my calls and texts for a week. A week!” Ashley balled her hands into fists, her fingernails biting into her palms. “I came here to apologize. To work things out.” That wasn’t what Ashley had told herself on the drive up, but now that she’d uttered the words, she knew they were true.
“Missed calls?” Tom quirked his head to the side as though confused.
“Don’t give me that bullshit. I’ve called and left about a thousand voicemails. I’ve sent probably a hundred text messages. I even tried email. But nothing. Radio silence. I finally drove up here to make sure you weren’t dead and what do I find?”
“Ashley,” Tom said, taking a slow, tentative step forward. He kept his movements deliberate, hands raised in the air as though approaching an angry tiger. His beautiful face had contorted into something unrecognizable. He was no longer lovely. At least not to Ashley.
Ashley backed away, gesturing for him to stay away. “What do I find?” she repeated, taking another step closer to her vehicle. “I find you playing house with my former foster sister. The one who tortured me as a kid. You know all about her. I told you. Yet you didn’t think it was important to inform me that you’re living with her. You’re unbelievable.”
“Foster sister?” Tom shook his head. “I didn’t know…”
“You didn’t know,” Ashley scoffed. “Maybe it might have come up if you bothered to mention that you had a roommate at all. But you kept that a secret as well.”
“It wasn’t like that. I couldn’t afford a place, so I found a roommate. That’s it, I swear. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to upset you.”
“Well, congratulations, Tom. You’ve failed miserably. If that was, in fact, your goal. But here’s another potential goal. You wanted your cake and to eat it too.”
“Cake?”
“Good God.” Ashley threw her hands up in exasperation. “It’s a saying, you fucking moron. Meaning you wanted to try out something new with Lydia, but keep me on the backburner in case it didn’t work out.”
“Lydia?”
“Oh, my God.” Ashley ran her hands through her hair, gripping it at its base and tugging. She took several deep, calming breaths, pulling herself together. Could he really be that dumb? “Save your bullshit for someone else,” she said as she turned on her heel and marched toward her SUV. “And do me a favor,” she called over her shoulder. “Stay the fuck away from me. We are through.”
Ashley didn’t look back as she ripped her SUV door open and jumped in the driver’s seat. She couldn’t. If she did, she’d see his face and she might lose her nerve. But this, Lydia living in his house, was unforgivable. Anger and adrenaline surged through her veins, guiding her actions. Soon, both of those emotions would melt away, leaving an impenetrable darkness in their wake. She would not let Lydia or Tom witness her break. She had to get out of there before they had the chance.
Tom approached Ashley’s car, but she flipped it into gear and stepped on the gas. The vehicle took off, rounding the circular drive, skidding before turning onto the main road. Driving as fast as the speed limit would allow, Ashley tore out of the neighborhood and onto Highway 235, headed toward Waukee and Brine. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She didn’t wipe them away or try to stifle them. She would indulge the sadness for a few moments before pulling herself together for long enough to pick up those calls to service from the Waukee Police Department.
Then she’d drive home and allow herself to fall completely apart. Her eyes flicked to the passenger seat. The box of homemade candies that Tom had left on her doorstep was still there. She’d eaten a few earlier that week, but the majority still remained. She grabbed the box and ripped it open, shoving a chocolate peanut butter ball into her mouth. It was delicious, melting in her mouth, but it was also terrible in an unhealthy binge self-loathing sort of way. She swallowed it and grabbed another.
In the fifteen minutes it took to drive from Des Moines to the Waukee Police Department, she’d finished the entire box. At least twenty chocolate pieces. She parked and got out of her vehicle. As she approached the front door, her stomach twisted, an apparent protest to the sugar rush. A moment later, her nose began to gush blood. She sank to her knees, searching in her bag for a tissue.
Once she found a Kleenex and pressed it to her nose, her stomach twisted again. She was going to vomit. Crawling toward the edge of the sidewalk, she vomited. She stared, wide-eyed with shock. It was full of blood. She tried to push back up to her feet, but she didn’t have the strength. Her heart raced, pounding so quickly that it felt as though it was skipping beats.
Her stomach twisted again, and she braced for her body to vomit up more blood. What was happening to her? She needed help, but the front door to the police station seemed so far away. She didn’t think she had the energy to take a single step, let alone the fifty it would take just to get inside.
No, she decided, it’s quiet out here. Peaceful.
For somewhere in her soul, a part of her knew that she was dying. Unlike common belief, her life did not flash before her eyes. She did not see visions of her mother laughing or her dogs snuggling up next to her on the couch. There was no fear or trepidation. Merely acceptance. Her life was over, and she’d done the best she could with it. She tried to do right by others. To help those who had nobody else. That was enough for her. Her stomach twisted again, and she rolled into the fetal position, pulling her knees up to her chest. The pain was unbearable. Death was a welcome release.
17
Katie
Katie had arranged to meet Josh, the officer from the Waukee Police Department, for lunch. Since she hadn’t lived in the Des Moines area for many years, she had agreed to meet him at the police department and follow him to the restaurant.
Josh had offered to meet her somewhere in Brine, but she was quick to refuse. There were few places to eat in such a small town, all of which would be packed with people Katie knew. The rumors of her “date” with an out-of-towner would last for months. Katie had successfully kept herself out of the Brine rumor mill for the past six years, and she intended to keep it that way. It was a necessary choice if she cared to keep her father’s skeletons buried.
Katie pulled up outside the Waukee Police Department at eleven on the dot. She was in her off-duty vehicle even though this meeting was strictly business. Gas was expensive and Chief Carmichael didn’t have the funds to pay for an officer to drive out of town.
The chief was shifting the expenses to his employees, just like school districts did with teachers, but that wasn’t his fault. There was no other option. Yes, she and Forest Parker had come to a tentative truce, but that hadn’t translated into monetary relief. At least not yet, but it was also possible that it never would. Forest’s “shortchange the cops” movement had a lot of traction. That wasn’t something easily changed, even with Forest’s silver tongue.
Katie’s meeting with Josh would be an early lunch. Eat, discuss Rachel Smithson, and back to Brine by one. She had work to do if she wanted
to tie up all the potential loose ends before the trial. She had the calls to service, but she hadn’t had time to read through them yet. With so few officers in town, she was almost always assisting with another call. Crime didn’t stop just because she was busy. She was only able to make this meeting work because it was her day off.
As Katie made the turn into the parking lot, she noticed that it was large and recently resurfaced. Quite a few vehicles were parked there, most clustered near the door, but a few spaced further out throughout the lot. All were trucks except for one sports utility vehicle. A white Tahoe that looked just like Ashley’s vehicle.
No, Katie thought, it can’t be Ashley. Why would she be all the way out here?
Katie squinted, but she wasn’t able to read the plate until she drove a little closer. It had Brine County tags. It was Ashley. She wondered if she would bump into her friend while inside. Part of her hoped that she would, but a larger part desired the opposite. They were both dealing with high levels of stress that could lead to short tempers and easy arguments. Some of it because of Rachel Smithson, but they each had outside anxieties as well. Ashley was dealing with Tom’s shenanigans and Katie was worried about her job security.
Katie parked near Ashley’s Tahoe and hopped out of her vehicle, heading toward the police station. It had recently snowed, but the parking lot had been cleared and salted heavily enough that the granules crunched beneath her boots. The lot was freshly paved, a sign that Waukee wasn’t struggling for cash. At least not like the Brine PD.
If the parking lot upkeep hadn’t given away Waukee’s superior fiscal shape, the building itself would have. It was two floors high, built in a modern fashion that was virtually all gleaming windows. Katie wondered whose job it was to clean all those windows from the exterior. Someone had to do it regularly for they sparkled in the late-morning sunshine.
Katie had parked far away, like she always did. She liked to stretch her legs throughout the day. Parking at the edge of a lot was an easy way to get a little bit of exercise without feeling like she was, in fact, exercising. Every step counted. As she approached the building, it seemed to grow in size and grandeur, further putting Brine’s little law enforcement center to shame.
She stepped onto the sidewalk, following the evergreen bushes that lined it. As she rounded the trees, the sidewalk approaching the front door came into view. Katie’s gaze shifted to the ground and she froze. Someone was there. No, not just anyone.
“Ashley,” Katie cried. Her voice was high-pitched, foreign to her own ears.
Ashley lay near the edge of the sidewalk, blood surrounding her. Katie dashed to her best friend’s side.
“Ashley,” she said, shaking her shoulder. “What happened?”
Ashley’s eyes blinked open, shifting toward Katie. Blood covered her face, but Katie couldn’t discern the cause of it. There was so much, but no obvious injuries.
“Did someone hurt you?”
Ashley’s eyes fluttered closed again. Katie had taken some medical courses throughout her years in law enforcement. A Brine police officer’s job was not solely crime and punishment. Often, she was expected to act as an ambulance as well. Not for the first time, she was grateful for all the extra training. It made her mind switch from petrified, grieving friend to the automatic movements of a professional.
She bent over Ashley, checking for a pulse. It was present, but weak.
“I’ll be right back,” Katie said in her most reassuring voice.
Katie needed help, but she did not want to move Ashley for fear of causing more damage. If the cause of Ashley’s condition was physical, like an assault or a gunshot, movement in the wrong direction could make the difference between paralysis and full recovery.
Katie ran to the building, her hands balled into fists. The cold air stung her lungs, forcing a cough from her chest, but she didn’t stop until she burst through the opulent glass front door. A reception desk sat a few feet away, just inside the high-ceilinged grand entrance. A man and two women sat behind the desk. They all looked up, but nobody greeted her.
“Call for an ambulance,” Katie said. She sounded calm, cool, collected, although she was certain her appearance was wild.
“Ambulance?” one of the women asked. She was the oldest of the three with curly silver hair and thick eyeglasses.
“Yes. Someone is lying out front. She’s alive, but I don’t know for how long.”
The man picked up the phone, speaking into an intercom. “Medical. Medical to the front entrance. Emergency. I repeat. Emergency.” He lowered the intercom, his eyes locking on Katie’s. “This better not be a joke.”
“Joke?” Katie said, shaking her head. “Why would I…”
“Because all hell is about to break loose around here,” the man said. “A call like that”—he pointed to a nearby intercom—“means all hands on deck. You’ll be in real trouble, little missy, if this is some kind of prank.”
Little Missy? Katie thought irritably. She straightened and glared at the man, ready to launch into him. Did he really think he could speak that way to her just because she looked young and was female? What was wrong with people? But before she could open her mouth to protest, all hell did break loose.
The sleepy station burst to life, like a vehicle jumpstarted. People came streaming out of offices and into the hallways. Most wore police-officer blue, but others donned white, indicating medical personnel. Waukee actually had an on-staff medical team. If Katie hadn’t been so worried about Ashley, she would have spent some time pondering the type of budget that could afford such a luxury. Instead, she turned and ran back out the front doors, crouching down at Ashley’s side.
“Help is on the way,” Katie said, taking Ashley’s nearly frozen hand into her own.
An ambulance pulled up out front and several people in Waukee EMT uniforms hopped out. An additional group of people in white also streamed out the front door, meeting the EMTs. Reluctantly, Katie stepped back to give them unfettered access to her friend. She couldn’t do anything for Ashley anyway.
The medical team moved methodically, a choreographed dance of people working in tandem. Each person knew their job and executed it without the bark of orders first filling the air. There was no debate about who would drive and who would administer emergency care. In fact, it was eerily silent aside from the shuffle of feet and scratch of Velcro. Nothing like the chaos and scrambling that came with the mostly volunteer EMTs in Brine.
A woman broke away from the group, approaching Ashley. Her hair was slicked back into a tight ponytail, her expression stern. “What happened?”
“I’m a Brine police officer.”
The woman eyed Katie’s jeans and Stanford sweatshirt, one of the many gifts her father had given her for her sixteenth birthday. Back then, they’d both believed the sky was the limit. The ratty condition of the old sweatshirt told the truth of Katie’s adult life.
Katie zipped up her jacket, suddenly self-conscious. “I’m off duty. I came here to meet with a Waukee officer about a case. And I found Ashley here.”
“You know her?” the woman asked.
“She’s a public defender in Brine. I’m a friend of hers.”
“What’s her name?”
“Ashley Montgomery.”
“How well do you know her?”
“Pretty well.”
“Does she have any known medical conditions?”
“No.”
“Is she on blood thinners?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Okay.” The woman nodded. “Thank you.” Then she turned on her heel and hopped in the back of the ambulance.
Although it seemed like forever, the medical team had Ashley on a stretcher and in the back of the ambulance in a few minutes. The doors slammed shut and the driver began walking toward the front of the ambulance.
“Wait,” Katie yelled, running toward him. “Where are you taking her?”
“Methodist. Downtown Des Moines. She’s in pretty bad s
hape,” the man said as he jumped into the driver’s seat.
Katie nodded and stepped back. She watched as the vehicle drove off, lights flashing and sirens blaring. Tears pricked at Katie’s eyes and trickled down her face, forming trails. Katie’s heart broke as the ambulance turned and disappeared out of sight. She didn’t know if this would be the last time she ever saw her friend alive. They had been avoiding one another since Rachel Smithson’s arrest, but Katie now regretted that decision. If Ashley didn’t make it, she would never forgive herself for all those lost moments.
“Do you know her or do you have that big of a heart?” a voice said from beside Katie.
Katie jumped and spun. A man stood next to her. His hair was dark brown and buzzed nearly to the scalp. He was handsome in a boyish way with apple cheeks and full lips. She’d thought that she had been alone. But, of course, she wasn’t. People swirled all around, trying to figure out how a half-dead woman found her way to the front entrance of a police station. It was a potential crime scene, and these were police officers. She would be doing the same thing had something like this occurred in Brine.
“Umm, yeah,” Katie said, turning back to where she had last seen the ambulance. “She’s my friend.”
“Do you want to go check on her?”
Katie nodded. In that moment, she wanted nothing more in the world than to go to the hospital.
“I’ll take you.”
Katie turned, facing the man. As she looked at him straight on, she realized he was even more handsome than she had previously thought. Almond-shaped eyes. Skin the deep gold of fresh sand, barely kissed by the sun. Arm muscles bulging beneath his blue uniform. He looked like a model in a calendar titled “Police Hotties,” not a true-life officer.
“I’m sorry,” Katie said, shaking her head. “Who are you?” She didn’t make a habit of accepting rides from strangers.
“Josh,” he said, a wide grin splitting across his face, displaying a mouth full of perfectly straight teeth. “And you must be Katie.”
