Pretty Dead Girls

by Monica Murphy

  I answer the door and smile at him. “Hi.”

  “Hey.” Cass looks good in jeans and a gray-and-black plaid button-down shirt, the faded black Converse on his feet. He’s wearing a black beanie that hides most of his hair, which is a total shame. His hair is one of my favorite things about him. “Can I come in?”

  “Let’s sit outside.” It’s not that I don’t want my parents to see him. I just want to get some fresh air. I’ve treated my bed like a refuge, but now that I’m out of it, I realize how cooped up I’ve been.

  He shrugs. “Okay.”

  I pull the door shut behind me, and we go to sit on the front porch steps. He sits close to me, his thigh pressed against mine, and I lean into him, absorbing his strength, his warmth.

  It’s funny, how I went from thinking he was totally weird and not knowing him at all to wanting to get as close to him as possible. And that’s because I feel close to him. What happened Friday night brought us closer together.

  Despite everything that happened, I can at least hold on to this. Hold on to Cass.

  “You don’t look awful,” he says after we’ve been quiet for a few minutes. His gaze meets mine, and I can see the sincerity shining in his eyes. “I think you look pretty great.”

  I lean my head on his shoulder, then push away from him. “You say the nicest things.”

  “I mean it.” His gaze meets mine once more. “I’ve been worried about you.”

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about you, too,” I admit, my voice soft. “I’m sorry I didn’t reach out yesterday. It was…a hard day.”

  “I understand.” And I know he does. I can tell. “It was hard for me, too. What happened Friday brought back a lot of old memories I’d rather forget.”

  “About your mom and dad?” I probably shouldn’t have asked, but I want to be there for him. I want him to know he can say anything to me, and that I get it. I won’t judge. I won’t gossip. I just want to be his friend.

  And maybe something more…

  “Yeah.” He spreads his legs and rests his arms on his thighs, his clasped hands hanging between his knees. “I found him, you know.”

  My heart trips over itself at the sound of his voice. “You found who?”

  “My dad.” He turns to look at me. “I came home from school and I thought no one was there. My mom was always there. Sometimes I’d come home and she’d still be in bed, but she was there, you know? I could count on her.” His expression is harrowed, like he’s back in that moment, reliving it. “I called for my mom, but she didn’t answer. I looked in every room, saving their bedroom for last. The door was shut, and that never happened. So when I opened the door, I did it real slow. Like I knew something bad was waiting for me. And I was right. There he was, sprawled across their bed, blood everywhere. I didn’t even recognize him at first. I thought it was a stranger. I thought it was fake.”

  I blink, unable to form words. All I can do is reach out and rest my hand on his forearm.

  “She stabbed him.” He takes a deep breath and exhales shakily. “Thirty-two times, once for every year he stole from her. She claimed he stole all her years, because she was thirty-two when she did it. Thirty-three when she went to trial. Almost thirty-four by the time she was sentenced to life in prison with no possibility of parole.”

  “How old were you?”

  “When I found him? Ten.”

  I press my lips together, overcome. The tears are there. I can feel them, desperate to burst out of me, and I give in and let them flow. They streak down my cheeks, drip from my jaw to fall onto my hoodie, and when Cass sees them, his expression turns pained. He reaches out, catching each tear with his thumb.

  “Don’t cry for me,” he whispers, his thumb still stroking my cheek, trying to capture every tear. But they keep falling, faster and faster, and then he pulls me into his arms, crushing me to him.

  “I can cry for you if I want,” I murmur, making him chuckle. He strokes my hair. Strokes my back. Holds me close and offers me comfort when I’m the one who should be offering him comfort. He just told me the most horrific thing I’ve ever heard, and he ends up consoling me.

  “I’m all right, I promise. I’ve spent many years in therapy,” he says against my hair. “I still do.”

  “You see a shrink?”

  “Yeah.” His voice turns hard. “Those asshole detectives were real interested in that, too.”

  I pull away from him so I can look into his eyes. “Tell me what happened. What did they ask you?”

  “The usual. Where was I, what were we doing before we went up the stairs and found Courtney and Dani.” Despite what happened, he manages to smile faintly. “Glad you came clean with them, because I did too. Thankfully, our stories matched up.”

  “You told them about being in Courtney’s room, then?” I’m so glad I told the truth.

  “Yeah. About her bringing Brogan to her room and us hiding in the closet. How we, uh—kissed in the closet and heard them do a lot more in her bed.” His cheeks turn the faintest red.

  “I told them that, too. The only thing I left out was about us searching Courtney’s room. I didn’t think they needed to know about it. I was afraid that would open us up to even more questions.” I feel bad keeping something from the cops, but what does it matter? We only found that letter and I’d bet money it was from Brogan.

  “Same.” He holds up his hand and I give him a gentle high five. “Thought it was best if I didn’t mention it, and they never brought it up, either, so I figured we were off the hook.”

  “They seemed very interested in Brogan.”

  Cass nods. “I thought so, too. Not that I think he did it.”

  “I don’t think he did, either,” I agree. “They didn’t tell me anything about Courtney. Nothing.”

  “Same. I think she’s a suspect.”

  “I think she did it,” I say firmly.

  “Do you?” The skepticism is in his voice. I can hear it. “Why do you say that?”

  “They’re all linked to her. Court hated Gretchen. She hated Lex, too. The Larks, how Courtney has said so many awful things about all of them, and she was cheating with Dani’s crush. Who’s to say Dani didn’t confront her and Court got so mad, she killed her? I know we said she was too obvious, but…”

  “I don’t know, Pen. That sounds so crazy. Do you really think Courtney would kill Dani because she’s having sex with Dani’s possible boyfriend? More like Dani should’ve been mad at Court,” Cass points out.

  “So what made you change your mind? You’re the one who told me you thought she was capable. Courtney has a temper. Plus, she’s been irritated with or hated every single one of us at some point or another. She was really mad at me this week. I’m surprised she didn’t come after me.”

  “You’re damn lucky she didn’t come after you, if she’s the murderer.” He shakes his head. “But I don’t think it’s her.”

  “Why not?”

  “Too cut and dry. I think it’s someone else. Someone more devious who’s trying to pin it on Court.”

  “That’s saying a lot. Courtney is pretty devious.”

  “I know. I believe whoever’s doing this is smarter than Court, maybe smarter than all of us. He’s trying to frame her.”

  “Who’s to say it’s a he?”

  Cass shrugs. “Maybe it’s a she, then.”

  “So you think it’s someone we go to school with?”

  “Maybe. I’m not sure. But I’m not going for that random stranger bit the news keeps trying to make us believe,” he says. “It’s all they can say. No one wants to hear it could be one of our own.”

  They don’t want to tarnish the town’s reputation. Cape Bonita has always been known as a safe haven. I don’t remember any murders happening here while I’ve been alive—with the exception of Cass’s mom stabbing his dad to death, though that had always been just a rumor floating around.

  “I don’t believe it, either. I think it’s someone we know. It could be anyone from the
staff. They have access to all the students.” An idea sparks in my brain. “Maybe it’s Coach Smith. She’s been inconsolable since Gretchen died. What if she killed her by accident and now she’s going after all the Larks?”

  “Come on. That makes no damn sense and you know it. Sally Smith may have had a strange fascination with Gretchen Nelson, but she didn’t murder her. She didn’t murder the other girls, either.” Cass nudges me in the side with his shoulder. “Think, Pen. Could it be someone you’re close to?”

  “What do you mean?” Who could he be referring to?

  “I don’t know.” He shrugs, but I can tell by the look on his face that he has someone in mind. “It feels like it’s someone who could be closer than you think. Maybe someone who’s jealous of all of you.”

  “Like who?” That could be anyone at school. “Are you thinking of someone specific?”

  “Maybe it could be one of the junior Larks?” I part my lips, ready to speak, but Cass rushes on. “You never know. I’m just pulling theories out of the sky. But have you ever thought it could be one of them?”

  “No freaking way.” I make a face. “Have you seen those girls? They’re all scared of their own shadows. I can’t imagine one of them taking down Gretchen. She would’ve kicked their ass. Or Lex. Or even Dani. I can’t wrap my head around all five of them getting together and taking down one of us, let alone one of them acting on her own. They’re that timid.”

  “They might not be as timid as you think.”

  There’s no way any of those girls could be a killer. “It must be Courtney then,” I say firmly. “All roads lead to her.”

  “I don’t think so,” he says, leaning in close. “So don’t be disappointed if you’re wrong.”

  I press my forehead to his, our gazes locking. “Don’t be disappointed if I’m right either, okay?”

  He touches my cheek, a faint smile curling his lips. “Okay.” He tilts his head to the side and kisses me, and I’m lightheaded the moment his lips touch mine. The kiss is far too brief. “Can I confess something to you?”

  I nod, hoping he’ll kiss me again.

  “Promise you won’t make fun?”

  “I promise,” I whisper.

  Cass smiles. “I can’t believe I’m with you right now, kissing you. I’m with Penelope Malone, the head cheerleader, one of the most popular girls in our class. It blows my mind.”

  I smile and kiss him this time around, my lips lingering on his as I slip my hand around the back of his neck, my fingers playing with the ends of his hair. “Can you stay for dinner?” I murmur against his lips. “My mom said it was okay.”

  “I need to ask Grams, but I’m sure she won’t mind.” His mouth settles on mine, warm and firm, and I close my eyes. Lose myself to the sensation of his persistent lips, his wandering hands, the beat of his heart, the sound of his breath.

  I don’t want to forget this moment. Though I can’t tell Cass why.

  Deep down, I’m afraid it might be one of the last good moments I’ll ever have.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Nine

  Well, that was quite the weekend, right, folks? I may be down, but I’m definitely not out.

  Friday was a total fiasco. The entire night felt off from the very beginning. Nothing went as planned. My original target somehow slipped through my fingers and I had to settle for my second—wait, make that my third—choice. As reluctant as I was to take her down, it was too late. I was already in the moment. I had to make it happen.

  I didn’t want to completely deviate from the plan. Bad enough I had to make a few quick changes.

  Poor Dani. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Drunk off her ass, saying the stupidest crap you’ve ever heard. Whining on and on about Brogan until I wanted to puke.

  Does he like me?

  He never tells me he likes me, not like that.

  He won’t commit.

  I think I got friend zoned.

  He’s so cute.

  He kisses me when no one’s looking.

  Is he just using me?

  Fuck it. Maybe I’ll let him.

  And on and on and on she went, until I wanted to poke pencils in my ears to make her stop. I had zero sympathy for Dani. She’s the classic, want what you can’t have type of girl. She’s adorable, she’s sweet, and she was fun, but she wanted some jackass who likes his nickname Bro. It fits him, though. He is a total bro. That guy was tapping every ass he could at Cape Bonita Prep.

  I should know. He tapped mine.

  The craziest thing is Dani didn’t even know it was coming. One minute she’s crying over Brogan and asking me to give her advice—sorry that’s your best friend Penelope’s job, doll—and then I’m grabbing hold of her by the front of her dress, making her gasp in shock. Those big brown eyes of hers went even bigger, which is quite the feat. I placed the tip of the knife against her throat, pricking her just enough to make blood appear, and she screamed. She screamed and screamed and I slashed and slashed her throat to shut her up. Right there in the middle of the hallway, until I could hear her gurgle, choking on her own blood.

  Dani was by far the messiest one of the bunch.

  And she was also the least satisfying.

  Chapter

  Thirty

  People stare as I walk down the hall Monday morning. I can feel their eyes on me as I move past them, and I keep my posture straight, my head held high as I go to my locker, even though my knees are quaking. No one speaks to me, not even a random hi tossed carelessly in my direction. They all keep a wide berth, as if they’re afraid to get too close.

  I guess I can’t blame them. I’m the girl who found Dani and Courtney—well, Cass and I found them. I’m also the girl who’s linked to every single one of the victims. I don’t think anyone suspects me, though. I mean, come on, it’s Courtney who did it.

  It has to be.

  “Hey.” I feel a large hand touch my shoulder just after I get my locker open, and I whirl around, relieved when I discover it’s Cass. “You didn’t text me this morning.”

  “I was supposed to text you?” I frown, fighting the guilt. It was so nice, having him spend time with my parents and me last night. They were wary at first, but they warmed up to him quickly. He was polite and respectful, seemed genuinely interested in what they had to say, and I know he was interested in everything I had to say, too. We even laughed a few times.

  And that explosive good night kiss he gave me on the porch just before he left made my toes curl.

  “I figured you would.” He’s frowning, his thick, dark brows knitting together. “I don’t like the idea of you coming to school alone.”

  “My dad dropped me off. I still don’t have my car back from the police.” It’s kind of annoying, how the cops are keeping it as evidence, but I guess I understand why. My dad swore he’d get it back by the end of the day, and I hope he’s successful. No way do I want to be dependent on my dad for a ride.

  Though really, I’d rather lose my car for a while than my life forever, so I need to get over myself.

  “Oh, good.” The relief on his face is evident. “Wait, not that the police still have your car, but that your dad drove you.”

  “You approve of my having a chaperone?”

  “I can’t help it. I worry about you, especially after everything that’s happened.” He steps closer to me, speaking low so no one else can hear. “I’ll take you home, though. And tomorrow, we’re riding together, even if you do have your car back by then. I’ll come pick you up.”

  “But that’s a total pain in the butt for you.” He’d have to drive past campus to get me. We live in opposite directions of the school. “I can drive myself.”

  Cass shakes his head, his expression firm. “I’ll drive you. I don’t mind.” When I open my mouth to argue, he cuts me off. “Come on, Pen. Let me do this one thing for you.”

  “Okay.” I like how protective he is. He wants to watch over me, and right now, I need that. It’s like I have no one on my si
de. All my friends are gone. There’s no one else but my family and Cass. And my family can’t follow me to school every day.

  So I’m going to need to start counting on Cass—and myself.

  I can handle this. I have to.

  “Did you see the news report this morning about Courtney?” he asks.

  I shake my head, fighting the nerves that have suddenly taken residence in my stomach.

  He pulls his phone out of his pocket and taps at the screen, pulling up the video before he hands it to me. I watch in dull horror, my mind cataloging all the images but not really hearing what the reporter is saying. There are clips from the most recent crime scene—Courtney’s house—featuring lots of yellow tape and flashing red and blue lights streaking across the dark night sky. Dani’s school photo from last year appears, as do Gretchen’s and Lex’s. Then they show Courtney’s senior photo—of course her photo is more current. She looks beautiful.

  Perfect.

  My stomach churns.

  “Cape Bonita Prep senior Courtney Jenkins was released from the hospital yesterday afternoon, upon which she returned to her family’s residence. The police have been mum in regards to Jenkins’s involvement in the three recent murders, but Jenkins hasn’t been officially dismissed as a suspect, either. We’re keeping close watch on this situation, and will report as soon as we learn new details.”

  The video ends.

  So she’s home. I wonder if the detectives spoke to her. I wonder what she said. I wonder why the hell she’s not behind bars.

  I wonder if she’s going to get away with murder.

  “That was depressing,” I tell Cass when I hand him back his phone. “A known lunatic is now wandering the streets. What’s it going to take to lock her up for good, huh? Another murder? Do I have to die in order for Courtney to finally pay for what she’s done?”

  Cass sends me an incredulous look. “Are you serious right now? Come on, Pen.”