Ugly Young Thing

by Jennifer Jaynes

  Her assessment tests that morning had been surprisingly easy despite the fact that she hadn’t attended school in years. Even though she had hated school, she had always loved to learn. In fact, since becoming old enough to read, she had read everything she could get her hands on.

  Louis picked up her test and made some marks. A minute later, he looked up. “At this rate, it looks—”

  A clatter erupted from the back of the kitchen. Allie shot to her feet, squeezed her eyes shut, and clamped her hands to her ears. Her head screamed with the memory of the gunshot, the odor of gunpowder, her brother falling to the floor.

  After a few seconds, she opened her eyes to find that the noise had just been Big Joe hurrying through the mudroom door. “Shit!” she screamed. “Can you not do that?”

  The big guy stopped in his tracks. “Do what?”

  “Slam the door open like that!”

  He frowned. “Well, I didn’t mean—” he started. Then his eyes seemed to grow hard. “Sorry.” He disappeared into the living room, his jug of green smoothie in hand.

  “You okay?” Louis asked.

  Allie nodded.

  “Do loud noises frighten you?”

  She shrugged, sweat cooling in the center of her back. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Well, I’m sorry it scared you. He didn’t mean anything by it, though. From what I know about him, the poor guy wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  Maybe not, but it still didn’t help the fact that he had just scared the crap out of her.

  “Do you read much, Allie?”

  “I used to,” she muttered, starting to calm down. “All the time with my broth—” She clamped her mouth shut.

  Louis studied her, forcing her to look away. Lacing his fingers above his head, he sank back in his chair. “Were you going to say your ‘brother’?”

  Allie jerked her head forward, letting her hair fall across the side of her face. It was her ugly side—and she’d just realized it was exposed. She nodded at Louis’s question, her eyes glued to the table.

  “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about him. But if you ever do . . . and not just about him, but about anything . . . I want you to know you have a safe environment here. With Miss Bitty. With me. We’re both great listeners . . . and neither of us would ever judge you.”

  The last time she’d talked about her past was with Johnny, and just a few days afterward, he left.

  “Miss Bitty is like a celebrity around here, isn’t she?” Allie blurted. “So many people recognized her when we were at the mall.”

  Louis grinned. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess she is. When you teach someone how to regain their health, people tend to hold you in high regard. And she’s helped a lot of people in the last year or so since she’s been here.”

  He glanced at his watch. “Okay, let’s wrap things up. I need to leave for another appointment.”

  He slid Allie’s assessment tests across the table so she could see them. “You did really well. You are seriously one smart cookie to do so well from such little schooling. I’m sure your interest in reading helped, too.”

  Smart cookie?

  Me?

  He removed his glasses and ran a small cloth over the lenses. “From the way you tested today, it looks like we won’t have nearly as much work as we thought to get you prepared for that GED.”

  Something in Allie’s belly fluttered. No one had ever called her smart before. It definitely had a different ring to it. An awesome one.

  Smart cookie . . .

  “Allie? You with me?”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah.”

  CHAPTER 22

  THIRTY MINUTES AFTER Louis left, Allie was in the kitchen with her caseworker, Miss Bitty, the town’s sheriff, and a female FBI agent who had identified herself as Special Agent Denise Jones.

  “Like I mentioned,” Agent Jones said, “my partner and I worked with Sheriff Hebert on your brother’s case last year.”

  Allie stared past the woman’s kind eyes, at the window. A man was dragging the lawn mower out of the shed. It was one of the men she’d seen the day she arrived.

  “Given the circumstances, I’m sure you are going through a very difficult time. And I’m really sorry. I couldn’t even imagine.”

  Allie kept staring out the window. Since the sheriff and the agent had shown up, she was finding it difficult to breathe.

  “And I know, Allie, that you’ve already spoken with the sheriff here, but I want to ask a few questions, too. Is that okay?”

  Allie didn’t answer. She watched the man push the lawn mower in front of the window and stare in. She wondered if he could actually see them or if he was just looking at his own reflection.

  After a moment, the agent continued. “Did you know Tiffany Perron and Sarah Greene? The girls who your brother killed?”

  Allie’s leg began to shake under the table. She didn’t want to answer any questions about her brother. She didn’t want to be in the same room with the sheriff, breathing the same air he breathed.

  “Allie?” her caseworker prompted.

  “What?” she asked, trying not to sound nervous.

  “Did you know Tiffany and Sarah?” the agent asked again.

  “No. I didn’t know them.”

  “Did you know if they were friends with your brother? Or if he knew them?”

  She shook her head.

  “Any idea why he would want to kill them?”

  Allie felt nauseous. “No. Why do you keep asking me the same questions? These are the exact same questions he asked me the other night,” she said, gesturing to Sheriff Hebert. “I already answered them all.”

  Allie glared at the sheriff. She hated him. She had since she was a little girl. She remembered his afternoon visits to her mother. And from the way he studiously avoided her eyes, she was pretty sure he remembered her, too.

  “We just need a better understanding of what happened,” Agent Jones said gently.

  “Well, I didn’t know anything. I had no idea.”

  “No idea about . . . ?”

  “Anything.”

  She didn’t want to return to those horrible days again. Plus, she didn’t owe the sheriff a damn thing. He and his department disgusted her. There had been many times when he could’ve helped free her and her brother from that god-awful house they’d called home. But instead he turned a blind eye because he wanted to continue visiting her mother. He didn’t deserve Allie’s help. She wasn’t going to tell any of them shit.

  “You do realize that we found several bodies on your family’s property.”

  The hair rose on Allie’s arms. “So I hear.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “At the hospital. The sheriff told me you found bodies.”

  “And you had no knowledge of them beforehand?”

  “No.”

  “We were able to link a few of them to your mother. Did you have any knowledge that she was involved with any murders?”

  “No.”

  The agent’s voice softened. “Were you told that we found your mother’s body, too? In the pond?”

  Bile crawled up her throat. “Yes.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “As far as I understand, she was never reported missing.”

  Please . . . just leave me alone! she screamed inside her head. Talking to them about her mother . . . her brother . . . everything that had happened just made it more real. She couldn’t handle it being any more real.

  Allie turned to Miss Bitty. “Can we stop? Please?”

  Miss Bitty jumped to her feet. “Is this really necessary? As far as I know her brother’s case is closed, so I don’t understand the point of you questioning her again.”

  The caseworker intervened. “It’s better if she answers their questions now. Let’s just answer them and get it over with.”

  “Your caseworker is right,” Agent Jones said. “Now that you’re back and have had a couple of days to get settled, we just w
ant to wrap—”

  “Well, let me save you a lot of time,” Allie said, raising her chin in defiance. “I know nothing. Nothing! I had no idea my brother was involved with anything. I was as surprised as everyone else seems to be. I didn’t know the girls. I didn’t know he knew the girls. I never saw them around. How many times do I have to tell you people the same things? My story isn’t going to change, because it’s the truth!”

  “Your mother?” the FBI agent gently prompted. “For instance, did she—”

  “My mother barely had anything to do with us,” Allie snapped. “One day she was there, then one day she wasn’t, so I just figured she ran off with one of her clients.” Allie stopped to take a breath. “Look, I barely even knew the woman. If you have questions about her, maybe you should ask Sheriff Hebert,” she said, gesturing to the big man again. “Because I’m pretty sure he knew her a whole lot better than I did.”

  The sheriff visibly stiffened.

  Agent Jones glanced at him, and he shrugged as if he didn’t know what Allie was talking about, but his face was beet red. He cleared his throat. “Okay, I think that’s enough for now. Thank you for talking with us. If we have anything else, we’ll be back by.”

  Kneeling on bare knees, Allie yanked weeds out of the damp earth. Caring for Miss Bitty’s organic garden was one of her many chores around the house.

  The new jobs filled her with a sense of pride. She’d never really been responsible for anything before. They kept her mind busy, too, and off the sheriff’s visit earlier in the day.

  After working for a little more than an hour, she stood and stretched. Her head spun just thinking about the good stuff that was happening. She had decided she was going to work hard and make the old woman proud, because she knew that if she was given a second chance, she wasn’t likely to be given a third.

  She listened to Miss Bitty and did everything she asked. She was even drinking the green smoothies—and, as long as she threw a little apple in the blender, they were delicious.

  She would also start cashiering at a supermarket soon. She fantasized about what it would be like to get paychecks.

  Real ones, on paper.

  Not just wadded-up bills on a nightstand.

  Someone placed a hand gently on the middle of her back. “Allie?”

  She jumped and peered over her shoulder, expecting to see Miss Bitty. But no one was there.

  She spun around. Again, no one.

  A shiver slid up her spine.

  Did I just imagine that? She folded her arms across her body and held herself tightly.

  “Yes,” she said aloud, needing to convince herself. She had just imagined it. It was the only possibility because there was no way . . . no way in hell she was getting sick.

  Her eyes welled up with tears. No, things were finally beginning to look up. She finally had a real chance. A chance for something normal. A chance to finally be happy.

  Wiping tears from her cheek, she threw herself back into her work. “Stop screwing with me,” she growled, digging harder, not sure who she was talking to . . . wondering if it could be her mother. After all, if the woman had the power to make her miserable from hell, she would do it.

  Actually, it would be better if it was her mother because that would only mean she was being haunted. And she would much rather be haunted than crazy.

  “Just let me be happy for once,” she hissed. “Make someone there in hell with you miserable and leave me the fuck alone.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  Allie froze. But she refused to turn around, hoping that if she didn’t entertain whomever or whatever it was, it would eventually go away.

  “Can you hear me?” the voice said.

  Allie started jabbing at the broken earth again.

  “Um, hello?”

  She dug harder, a stream of tears warming her cheeks.

  A long shadow appeared next to her. What the—? She whirled around, brandishing the hand shovel. “I said, get the hell—”

  A girl about her age stepped backward, her eyes wide as saucers. “Oh my God. Sorry. I—”

  Allie narrowed her eyes. “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Uh, a few seconds, maybe?” The girl seemed confused. “Why?”

  Allie quickly wiped the tears away. “What are you doing here?”

  The girl gave Allie a quick, but unmistakable, once-over, then smiled confidently, showing a mouth full of perfect teeth. “My mom’s inside. She came here to lose weight.”

  Allie weighed the girl’s words. “So you’re not a new foster kid?”

  “Uh, not that I know of.” The girl shot her another confident grin. “If only I were so lucky. My mother’s a complete head case.”

  “Oh,” Allie muttered, relieved. For a moment she had been afraid that the girl was going to take her place.

  “I was just waiting for my mom and saw you. Thought I’d say hello is all.”

  Still suspicious, Allie studied the girl. She had long brown hair that fell past her shoulders in loose waves and gorgeous, wide-set chocolate-colored eyes. Her skin was luminous; perfect. She was exactly the type of girl you’d see on the cover of a fashion magazine.

  Embarrassed by her behavior, Allie crossed her arms. She glanced past the girl and saw Miss Bitty and a woman talking on the deck.

  “My name’s Hannah Hanover,” the girl said, pushing a mound of dirt around with her foot. “We just moved here from California and I don’t really know anyone.”

  Allie wasn’t sure what to say.

  “So, you going to be a senior in August?” Hannah asked.

  Allie shrugged, her eyes on the ground. “I’m not sure. I’m being homeschooled.”

  The girl’s jaw dropped. “Get out! How cool.”

  Allie shrugged again.

  “Wow, you’re lucky. I’d love to not have to go to real school.”

  “Hannah!” the woman on the deck called.

  The girl grunted and waved the woman off. Then she turned back to Allie. “Hey, maybe we could hang out sometime?”

  Allie’s heart skipped a beat. No one had ever just come up to her, wanting to hang out. To be friends. Allie was the weird girl. Was that not obvious to this kid? Guys were the only people interested in her—and it was only to get into her pants.

  Hannah’s eyes widened. “Oh, I’m not like a stalker or anything. I just don’t know anyone else. But if you—”

  “Sure,” Allie interrupted. “We could hang out.” She quickly added, “You know . . . because I don’t know anyone either.”

  Hannah smiled. “Sweet. Okay, cool!”

  “Cool,” Allie repeated, feeling awkward, but also a little proud of herself for possibly making a new friend.

  “So, want to come over tonight?” Hannah asked, her eyes hopeful.

  Allie swallowed. “Um, yeah. Sure.”

  CHAPTER 23

  “SURE. I DON’T SEE why not. Her family certainly seems decent enough,” Miss Bitty said when Allie told her that Hannah had invited her over. “What time? I’ll drive you.”

  “She said five.”

  “I have a client at five, but maybe Louis can take you. Just be in the kitchen ready to go at ten to five.”

  Back in her bedroom, Allie picked out an outfit to wear. Although the idea of going to Hannah’s house made her nervous, it would help keep her mind off of what had happened in the garden before Hannah had arrived. Plus, the thought of actually making a friend was exciting.

  She chose a pair of navy blue shorts, a black form-fitting knit top, and a pair of wedges. She washed her hair, blew it straight, and spent a lot of time with her new department store makeup, marveling at how well it went on.

  An hour later, she studied the final product in the bathroom mirror. Her body was good—and looked fantastic under her new wardrobe.

  As usual, though, at certain angles her face looked almost scary, even beneath the carefully applied makeup. How I made such an ugly child is beyond me, her mother whispered.


  She shuddered—and for about the millionth time in her life, wished she could transfer a little of her body’s perfection to her face. It would certainly make life a lot easier.

  “Allie?”

  She startled. Not again.

  She whirled around, but it was just Miss Bitty.

  “Oh God. You scared the shi—” Allie caught herself. “The crap out of me,” she finished, her pulse racing.

  “Sorry, girlie, but it’s ten until five. If Louis is going to take you, you’ll have to leave now.”

  At Hannah’s doorstep, Allie took a deep breath and reminded herself to act normal.

  Just act like Miss Bitty and people will accept you, she told herself. Everyone loved the old woman, so maybe if she were like Miss Bitty, people would love her, too. She’d also try to be quiet. After all, she couldn’t say anything stupid if she didn’t talk.

  Allie was still silently coaching herself when the door swung open and Hannah appeared. Allie strained to smile at the girl, but it disappeared when she noticed Hannah’s frown. “What’s wrong?” Allie asked.

  “You’re not wearing your Daisy Dukes. You don’t look as country as you did this afternoon.”

  “My what?”

  “Daisy Dukes. Isn’t that what you call them here in the South? You know, your short shorts. Like these?” Hannah pointed to the jean shorts she was wearing. They were cut very short, one jagged pant leg noticeably longer than the other. Obviously she’d cut them herself.

  Hannah sighed. “Oh, never mind.” She glanced past Allie and waved to Louis, who was backing out of the driveway. “Well, come on. We’ll hang out in my room.”

  Once they reached the bedroom, Hannah flung herself on the bed. Allie stood awkwardly by the door, thinking about bolting. Screw having a girlfriend. She didn’t want to do this anymore. Her palms were sweating and she wanted nothing more than to chase Louis down and jump back in the car with him. After all, she’d never had a real girlfriend before, and there were probably a million good reasons why.

  “I’m glad you came,” Hannah said, smiling. “Sit. Stay a while.”

  Not having the courage to escape just yet, Allie reluctantly went to a purple beanbag chair and sat.