Clarity

by Kim Harrington

  “Nobody’s going to jail,” I said, though I wasn’t really sure about that.

  The screeching of tires made us both turn toward the road. Gabriel’s Jeep pulled into the driveway. My heart fluttered a bit. Maybe it’s not business, I thought. Maybe he wants to see me again, continue last night’s interrupted kiss.

  A patrol car pulled in behind him.

  “What’s going on?” Mom asked.

  I didn’t know. Gabriel got out of his car with a dark look on his face. He certainly wasn’t here to try to kiss me again. And if he had work for me, he wouldn’t have brought backup.

  He climbed the front stairs and came right to me. “I’m sorry.”

  I shook my head in confusion. “For what?”

  The screen door opened behind us, and Perry poked his head out. “What’s happening?”

  Gabriel moved aside as his father ascended the stairs and said, “Periwinkle Fern, you need to come with us.”

  EIGHTEEN

  I STEPPED IN FRONT OF MY BROTHER AND PUT MY hand on Detective Toscano’s chest, pushing him back a bit. “Are you arresting him?” My voice had a panicked screech to it that I didn’t bother trying to hold back.

  He moved around me and spoke to Perry. “We are requesting that you come to the station and answer questions about your relationship with Victoria Happel.”

  Someone had seen him that night.

  Someone told.

  Gabriel wouldn’t look me in the eye. His voice low, he said, “The results are in. The same gun was used to kill Victoria and Billy.”

  “But that has nothing to do with Perry,” I said petulantly.

  “Actually,” Detective Toscano held up a sheet of paper, “we have a warrant here to search the house for that gun.”

  “Go right ahead,” I said, holding my arms open wide. “Search all you want. You won’t find a murder weapon here.”

  Perry’s eyes widened, and he shook his head slightly. Was he telling me no? Telling me not to let them in? I cocked my head to the side in confusion and everyone turned to look at Perry. He immediately cast his eyes down.

  “We’ll be respectful of your belongings as we execute the search warrant,” Detective Toscano said, more to my mother than me since I was staring at Perry trying to figure out what that panicked look had been for.

  Three more officers had come up behind us during all of this. One of them had handcuffs dangling from his right hand.

  “Those won’t be necessary,” Perry said. “I’ll come to the station voluntarily.”

  I watched helplessly as my brother was led to a cruiser and put in the backseat. My brother, who was always calm, always collected. The constant voice of reason in the family. The only one who could keep my mom’s head from exploding when she got stressed. The only one who could make me feel safe when bullies picked on me for being a freak. The only one who could make me laugh after I broke up with Justin and felt my life crumbling around me.

  He was more than my brother. He was my best friend.

  Perry turned around and gazed out the rear window as the cruiser pulled away. I held one hand up, palm out, until the car was out of sight. Then I sank down onto the porch. I fought off the urge to cry. I had to stay strong. I had to hold it together for Mom and Perry.

  Mom’s worried voice fluttered around behind me as she led the officers into the house for the search. I tried to drown out those sounds by focusing on how this could have happened.

  If someone had seen Perry with Victoria that night, why wait so long to come forward as a witness? It didn’t make any sense. It’s not like someone could have just found out about it now …

  I faltered as a thought clicked in my brain like a puzzle piece. But it couldn’t be. There was no way in hell …

  I stood up and broke into a run.

  The newspaper offices were quaint and located in Eastport center, between the town hall and the post office. THE EASTPORT TIMES was painted on the large glass storefront window, though the P was a little chipped at the bottom and needed to be touched up. A small space for a small-time paper.

  I paused for a moment at the door, to wipe the sweat off my brow and catch my breath. Then I walked in like I belonged there and headed straight to Nate’s desk. His head was partially obscured by a giant computer monitor. He was hunched over, scribbling furiously on a notepad.

  He glanced up at the sound of my stomping feet headed his way. “Hey, Clare, what’s up?”

  I tried to sneak a peek at his notepad. “What are you working on? ”

  “Putting together a story on our esteemed new detective and his not so esteemed past.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Still gnawing on that same bone, huh?”

  The large, open room was filled with noise, from clicking keyboards to loud phone conversations.

  Nate tapped his pen on the desk. “Do you know what Gabriel’s tattoo says?”

  “No, why?”

  “Just curious. Trying to fill in the gaps here.”

  “I can try to find out.”

  Nate started to nod, then stopped. “No, don’t. I don’t want to put you in danger.”

  “What about Perry?”

  “What about him?”

  “You didn’t mind putting him in danger.”

  Nate paused, waiting for the punch line, then realized I was serious. “Clare, I’m not following you.”

  “He was just brought down to the station,” I said, trying to control the anger in my voice. “Someone told the police that he was with Victoria Happel the night she was killed. And it’s interesting to me because Perry and I haven’t told anyone this whole time. And then last night I told you, and this morning Perry’s taken away.”

  Nate’s mouth opened in shock, then his face crumbled and his eyes took on a desperate look. I immediately knew what I should never have questioned. Nate was loyal.

  “I didn’t tell anyone,” he pleaded. “You have to know that I would never do that.”

  I sat down hard on a swivel chair from a neighboring cubicle and rolled it next to his. “I know. I’m sorry. I never should have thought it, even for one second. But the timing …”

  “It could have been any number of people from the restaurant,” Nate said. “Or the motel.”

  “But why now? Why wait a week to tip off the police?”

  “Maybe they weren’t paying attention to the news. Maybe they didn’t put two and two together until now. Maybe they were thinking Perry Fern couldn’t have done it and that the police would find the real killer, but then when nothing happened they figured they had to be honest?” Nate shrugged. “I really have no idea.”

  I leaned forward and put my face in my hands. “Until this point, the police had no leads. Billy Rawlinson obviously witnessed it, but chose to try to make some side money rather than go to the cops, and now he’s dead, too. All they have is the person who was last with the victim, and that’s Perry.”

  “I still don’t think that’s enough,” Nate said. “They’ll need more.”

  “Speaking of, they’re ransacking the house right now. I’d better get back to Mom and try to keep her together.”

  Nate looked at me closely. I felt the sweat dripping down my neck.

  “Did you run here?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “I had to talk to you. I had to know.”

  He nodded. “Let me drive you back. I’m due for a break anyhow.”

  Nate sped back to the house and dropped me off in the street because the cops were blocking the driveway. I saw them loading Perry’s computer into the back of a squad car. As I approached, an officer nodded at me. “We’re done.”

  I found Mom in the living room curled up tight on the couch. With her face hidden and her long curly locks shaking as she sobbed, she looked like a lost little girl. I gently sat beside her and rubbed her back, something that would normally have been Perry’s job.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I whispered.

  She looked up at me, mascara running down her cheeks.
“But what if it’s not? What if they arrest him?”

  “I don’t think they’ll have enough,” I said. “Sure he was with her, but they have no evidence that he killed her.”

  “They took … stuff from the house.”

  “Yeah, sure, but they won’t find what they need. No murder weapon.”

  I fetched her a tissue. She sat up straight and wiped her face. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

  The phone rang and I grabbed it.

  “Clare?”

  The voice was familiar, but I couldn’t immediately place it. “Yes?”

  “This is Stephen Clayworth.”

  “Uh, hi. This is kind of a bad time.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m calling. I heard they took Perry into custody. Did they arrest him?”

  “Not yet, as far as I know. They’re just questioning him.”

  “Do you have a lawyer?” he asked.

  I hadn’t even thought of that in all the chaos. “No, not yet.”

  “Come to my house and I’ll set you up with our family’s lawyer.”

  Great. The Clayworths’ lawyer was probably the highest paid in the state. “Oh, I don’t really think we could afford —”

  “Don’t worry about that part,” Stephen interrupted. “Just get here and I’ll help you out.”

  Could I have been any more wrong about him last year? I wanted to slap myself. “Thank you so much, Stephen. I’ll be there soon.”

  “Was that Stephen Clayworth?” Mom asked as soon as I returned the phone to its cradle.

  “Yeah. If we head to his house now, he’ll set us up with his family’s lawyer.”

  Her forehead creased. “Are you two …”

  “No, not at all. We’ve mended fences. Turns out he’s not that bad of a guy.”

  Mom grabbed her purse and car keys, and we sprinted outside. I skidded to a stop a few feet from the car. The front left tire was flat.

  “Huh,” Mom said. “I hadn’t even realized it was low before.”

  I knelt down to examine it.

  “It wasn’t low before,” I said. “It’s been slashed.”

  NINETEEN

  “MY TIRE WAS FINE THIS MORNING,” MOM SAID.

  “And no one would have slashed it while the police were here,” I added.

  We looked at each other. Whoever slashed the tire had done it within the last ten minutes. I jogged down the street a bit, looking for anyone on the sidewalk.

  A boy, about twelve years old, was riding his bike toward me. I held my hand out and stopped him. “Did you see anyone else on the street?” I asked him.

  “Um, yeah, lots of people,” he answered, with a “duh” tone of voice.

  “Specifically, anyone maybe running away from this house? Someone slashed my mom’s tire.”

  He shrugged. “There was a chick with a beach bag and a big ugly hat, and she seemed in a hurry.”

  “Luke!” A girl with long blond hair waved to him from down the street.

  “Sorry. Gotta motor.”

  Ah, the pull of the blonde. It starts so young. Speaking of blond, I knew who’d slashed the tire. Tiffany. I didn’t have time to deal with her now, though. I had to get help for Perry, but now we had no way to get to Stephen’s house.

  A shiny black car I recognized as Mr. Spellman’s pulled to the curb. Justin leaned his head out the window. “Get in!”

  Not exactly a knight on a white horse, but I’d take it.

  Mom slid into the passenger seat, I jumped in the back, and Justin sped off.

  “I heard about Perry being taken in,” he explained. “My father called a friend of his, a lawyer, and he’s meeting us at the station.”

  “You don’t have your license yet,” I said.

  “But I can drive with my learner’s permit as long as an adult is in the car.” He smiled. “Hi, Mrs. Fern.”

  Mom patted him on the shoulder. She’d always liked Justin and had made clear to me her feeling that he deserved a second chance. I sighed. Now that he had come to the family’s rescue, she’d be on my case even more.

  “I’m sorry. I really am,” Gabriel whispered to me at the station.

  “Your father is just doing his job.” I wrung my hands as I babbled. “If Perry was with Victoria that night, he has to question him. I don’t blame you. Soon, you’ll see that Perry didn’t do it. Your father will release him, and you and I can get back to … working on the case.”

  He turned away, as if he wasn’t so sure about that. But neither was I.

  I slumped into a hard plastic chair. I hated sitting there in the waiting area, knowing my brother was being held in a tiny room somewhere in the building, scared and unsure. I hoped they weren’t battering him with questions. I hoped he was smart enough to refuse to answer until we got him a lawyer.

  Anthony Toscano came into the room, and Gabriel immediately popped up and rushed to his father’s side. Anthony was whispering in Gabriel’s ear as I approached.

  “Excuse me, Detective Toscano?”

  He turned and looked down at me. I felt like a tiny little girl next to him. “Yes, Miss Fern?”

  “May I speak with my brother for a moment? The lawyer should be here soon. I want to make sure he’s okay.”

  A look came over his face. Was it pity? “Sure, follow me.”

  I nearly had to run down the hallway to keep up with his long strides. He was silent during our short walk, so I took in the surroundings. A flickering fluorescent light in the ceiling. A cigarette burn on the vinyl floor. The gray walls that begged for a paint job.

  Detective Toscano stopped abruptly, and I nearly bumped into his back. “You’ve got two minutes,” he said, and opened the door.

  Perry jumped in his seat at the sound of the door slamming open, but his panic eased when he saw me. I tried to smile, but he’d know it was fake anyway. I didn’t know if I was allowed to hug him or not. It all felt so surreal, like we were the victims of an elaborate prank.

  I wish.

  I sat in the chair opposite him and folded my hands on the table. “Are you all right?”

  He shrugged.

  “They treating you okay?”

  “Yeah. They haven’t done much. Gave me a soda.”

  “You weren’t questioned?”

  “I think they’re waiting on a lawyer.”

  “Mr. Spellman must have told them,” I said. “The Spellmans’ lawyer is going to represent you. He’s on his way here. They’ll probably start questioning you when he gets here.”

  He nodded, staring down at his hands. His face was a sickly shade of green. I figured there was a fifty-fifty chance he’d vomit all over the table.

  “It’s going to be fine, Perry.”

  “You don’t know that,” he whispered.

  “You didn’t do this, right?” I asked, trying to keep the quiver out of my voice.

  “No.” He looked me dead in the eyes. “I didn’t.”

  I pushed any doubts I had away and focused on helping my brother. I grabbed his hands. “They can’t charge you if you didn’t do it.”

  “Sure they can. It happens all the time.”

  “Only in movies and mystery novels,” I said, knowing that wasn’t completely true.

  Perry didn’t reply, just stared down, his spirit broken. I strained to think of something else to say, but the words eluded me, so I squeezed his hands tighter. We sat there, holding hands in silence, until Detective Toscano returned and told me my time was up.

  He led me back to the waiting area. Gabriel was gone. A dignified, gray-haired man in a suit was talking in low tones to my mother, who looked horrified.

  “What is it?” I said, hurrying up to them.

  The man looked at me quizzically.

  Mom said, “This is my daughter, Clarity.” Then she turned to me, “This is Mr. Nelson, Perry’s lawyer.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, though I really wanted to skip the pleasantries and find out what was going on.

  “There’s a problem,” Mom s
aid. “When they executed the search warrant they found something.”

  “The murder weapon? It must have been planted! There’s no way —”

  “No, not the weapon,” Mr. Nelson said. He stood stiffly and spoke in a soft, yet authoritative voice. “They found the security tape from the restaurant parking lot. The one that shows your brother leaving with the victim the night she was killed.”

  The tape that was stolen. Stupid Perry! “He probably took it so they wouldn’t see him with Victoria and think he did it,” I said. “He didn’t do it, though.”

  “An action like that adds to the pile of circumstantial evidence that he says did. Taking that tape and hiding it shows a purposeful attempt to cover something up.” He sighed. “I wish he hadn’t done that. It’s going to make this much more difficult.”

  “I need to see that tape. The real killer might be on there.”

  “Clarity,” he said, “according to the police, the real killer is already in custody.”

  The lawyer kept repeating that there was nothing we could do and told us to leave. He’d call when the police had reached a decision whether to arrest Perry or let him go home. It would most likely be several hours.

  Mom went home, but I couldn’t go back there. I imagined myself pacing the hall and listening to my mother’s imminent breakdown. Instead, I headed to the one place that could calm my nerves. The beach.

  I realized from the sun’s position in the sky that it was the afternoon and I hadn’t eaten lunch. But I wasn’t the slightest bit hungry. I held my sandals and walked barefoot on the warm sand, avoiding areas dense with people. I didn’t want to risk seeing anyone from school. Word about Perry was probably spreading like an STD.

  I cut a path toward the water, intending to let the waves lap at my feet. But instead, I stopped. I came upon a sight that, days ago, would have filled me with butterflies. Gabriel was only a few feet away, in front of me, sitting on the sand. He had on cargo shorts. His shirt was off, tossed to the side. His back was tan and muscled. As he stared out at the sea, I wished I had my mother’s gift so I could read his mind.

  As if he could read mine, he turned around.