by P J Stanley
“How can you believe this, Emily? You know Greg!” Kate said as she shook her head to herself, her eyes filling with tears.
“Do I?” Emily smirked. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know anything anymore. How do I know you’re not covering for him, huh?”
“Now wait just a God damn minute!” Kate snapped as she stood. Emily quickly stood up, their chests pressed together.
“No, Kate! I’m done waiting! I want answers and I want them now! I’m through with the games and I’m through with the lies! All I want is the truth! That’s all I’ve ever wanted!” Emily cried.
“And you think coming into our house and accusing Greg of this is going to help you get those answers?” Kate snarled. “Look at yourself, Emily! You’re a drunk! I can smell the liquor on your breath!”
“Fuck you!” Emily yelled, stepping back from Kate.
“No, fuck you! How dare you come in here and accuse him of this! After all the shit we have done for you? After everyone else left your ass on the curb? After everyone else gave up on you and we stuck beside you, you want to pull this shit with us? You want to question us?” Kate yelled. “We were the only people still left in your corner! We have been the only ones that have stuck around for you and you want to say this shit?” Kate screamed, slamming her hand on the table beside her. “Get out!”
“How can you stand here and defend him, Kate?” Emily snapped.
“Because he is my husband, Emily! I know him better than anyone else in this God damn world! I looked past the drunken black-out nights! I looked past the three a.m. calls! I looked past the shit you’ve pulled just get to get your little lips wrapped around the tip of a vodka bottle! But I can’t look past this!” Kate cried as she wiped her eyes. “I think you have some serious issues, and I think you need help. I’m so sorry about what has happened to Blair, but I can’t do this. I need you to go. NOW.”
“I just want the truth.” Emily sobbed.
“I said I want you out,” Kate snapped. “Go home and have a drink for all I care. You’re a better drinker than you are a mother, so go do what you do best and pop open another bottle of wine.”
Emily spun around, darting through the kitchen doorway as she made her way into the foyer. If finding out what happened to Blair meant losing her best friend, then so be it. If she couldn’t see just what her husband was capable of, that was her own grave. She couldn’t convince Kate. She couldn’t convince anyone. Emily stormed out on the front porch of the McCallister house and slammed the door. She charged down the creaky steps as she made her way down the concrete walkway. If Greg had nothing to hide, he never would have reacted that way. He had to be guilty. He had to be the father of Blair’s baby.
Emily rushed across the road and toward her house as she felt her phone vibrate in her coat pocket. Emily stepped on her front lawn as her flats moved along the wet, slick grass.
“Hello?” Emily said, her heart racing in her chest, as she made her way toward her front porch ahead.
“Miss Keller, this is Sheriff Ross. I was wondering if you had a moment to talk?”
“Yes, why? Do you know who did this?” Emily asked as she rushed up her front porch steps, making her way toward the front door.
“We found traces of human DNA under Blair’s fingernails.”
“What?”
“Yes, ma’am. Do you know anyone by the name of Hank Saunders?”
questions
“So, what’s the story here, Hank? Did you have the mom, so you had to give the daughter a taste test, is that it?” Sheriff Alan Ross asked as he glared back at Hank from across the table in the Elwood police department interrogation room. Hank sighed as he rested his elbows on the table, burying his face in his hands as his leg bounced up and down nervously.
“It wasn’t like that,” Hank said.
“Then what was it like, huh? Blair’s a pretty girl. I can understand that temptation. But that’s a pretty sick move, man, to get it on with your girlfriend’s daughter.”
“It was not that serious! We fooled around a couple of times and that was the end of it!” Hank snapped, slamming his hands on the metal table.
“Oh, it wasn’t that serious? Well, let me tell you what IS serious,” Sheriff Ross said as he pulled open a yellow folder in front of him. Sheriff Ross began flicking his finger along the crime scene photos, sending them across the slick surface of the table to Hank. Hank’s teary eyes stared down at them as his heart raced in his chest. Hank stared down at the photographs of Blair’s dead body, her arms and legs sprawled out and the entire back of her skull caved in, her blonde hair caked in blood. “How about that, huh? Is that serious enough for you, buddy?”
“Good God.” Hank winced, shoving them away. “I never would have done that to her! I didn’t touch her!”
“Yeah, you clearly did more than that! Apparently, you like it pretty rough considering we found your skin under her damn nails!” Sheriff Ross yelled as he stood up.
“I saw her the night she disappeared! I saw her walking and offered her a ride. We parked. We had sex. That was the end of it!”
“Yeah, then you drove out to the woods by Route 13 and dumped her body, didn’t you?”
“No, I didn’t!” Hank snapped. “She got out of the car and took off. She said she had to go meet a friend and talk. That was the last time I saw her! I swear to God! I did not kill her!” Hank cried out.
“Do you not see how bad this looks right now? Man, if you don’t tell me more, you’re going to fry for this,” Sheriff Ross barked at him.
“If I knew who killed her, I would tell you! The truth is I hadn’t seen Blair in a year. I knew she was back, then I saw her walking. It just happened and that was the end of it. I could never hurt her. I could never do that to her.”
“You mean crush her skull? Is that what you mean? Blunt force trauma to the back of the head was the cause of death.” Sheriff Ross nodded. “I guess you like it really, really rough.”
“Stop it! I didn’t do this! I did not kill Blair!”
“Then who did?”
“I don’t know!” Hank screamed. “If I knew anything, I would tell you. I cared about Blair. I care about Emily, too,” Hank said. Tears welled in his eyes.
“You’ve got a funny way of showing it,” Sheriff Ross scoffed. “We don’t have enough to hold you, so consider yourself lucky. But I will give you two pieces of advice: Don’t leave town, and I’d probably stay far, far away from Emily Keller.”
“I can’t just abandon her now.”
“Fine, go ahead; go and see her. Let’s see how well that works out for you,” Sheriff Ross said as he turned toward the door. “Maybe she’ll save the taxpayers money and kill you herself; no hair off my back.”
***
Hank turned the wheel of his truck, pulling into the driveway of Emily’s house. His headlights danced across the grass, illuminating a plethora of garments scattered all over the front lawn.
“What the fuck?” Hank jerked his key from the ignition and stepped out of his truck, slamming the door. He made his way across the lawn, grabbing his damp clothes as he made his way toward the front door. Hank stepped on the porch and reached forward, grabbing the handle.
Locked.
“God damn it.” Hank sighed, throwing his clothes down at his feet. “Emily, please open the door!” Hank called out as he banged his fist against the wooden surface. “Emily, please!” Hank cried out. Hank stepped back as he heard the deadbolt turn on the other side. The front door swung open as Emily glared back at him, the porch light shimmering down on her as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Please, just let me explain.”
“Your clothes on the lawn. I think that’s an explanation enough for the both of us.” Emily nodded.
“Can we not just talk about this? I didn’t … This never should have happened. I am so, so sorry,” Hank said, hanging his head down in shame.
“You’re sorry you got caught, Hank,” Emily said. “I have to say you’ve got some
brass balls to be standing on my front porch right now.”
“Emily, please.”
“No, just stop, okay?” Emily said as her blood boiled inside of her. “You don’t get to explain, all right? The fact that you’ve been lying to me this whole time was just what I needed. You were right, Hank. I do need to take care of myself. And I’m going to start by kicking your disgusting, egotistical ass to the curb. Get your shit and get off my lawn. Lucky for you, the burning pit out back wasn’t big enough for all of it.”
“You burned my stuff?” Hank asked, his eyes widening.
“Yeah, I did.” Emily nodded with a shrug. “Now, if you ever come near me again, I’ll kill you. If you even look at me, or speak a single syllable to me ever again, I’ll stab you in the fucking face,” Emily growled as she stepped back into her house and slammed the door. Emily turned the deadbolt and shuffled forward, rounding the corner and stepping into the kitchen. Emily sped toward the refrigerator and pulled the door open. Her hand shot inside, wrapping around the bottle of red wine. Emily placed the cork between her teeth and pulled it off, spitting it into the sink before taking a long sip from the bottle. Emily closed her eyes as euphoria filled her, the bittersweet wine coating her dry throat as she felt the heat rise in her chest.
This wasn’t about finding Blair anymore.
This was about finding Blair’s killer. Where would she even start? There were so many suspects and so little time.
Professor Alden.
Maybe he wanted to keep their affair a secret?
Mitch, her own father.
What if she was going to tell Emily about the abuse that she had suffered?
Hank?
Maybe she was going to expose his cheating?
All that mattered was the truth. All that mattered now was to get justice for Blair. And Emily was going to do whatever it took to get it.
A mother’s love knows no bounds.
A mother scorned has no limits.
the man
Emily parted her lips as she struggled to control her breathing. Her heart pounded faster and faster as she reached forward and pressed her finger on the doorbell of the McCallister house. After what she had learned about Hank, she was now convinced that Zoey was lying. There was no way that both Hank and Greg could be responsible. All she had was Zoey’s word. But with Hank, there was actual evidence that he was involved in some way. She had to bite the bullet and apologize to the two greatest people she currently had in her life. She needed them more than they knew. Emily stared forward as the front door opened. Kate’s eyes narrowed on Emily in front of her as she tilted her head to the right, her long, black hair falling down her right shoulder.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to apologize.” Emily nodded.
“For what? For acting like a crazy bitch and accusing my husband of rape?” Kate said, shaking her head in disgust.
“Yes. For everything.” Emily nodded. “Can I please just come in? I know you probably hate me right now and I know I don’t deserve a second chance. But, please can we just talk?”
Kate stepped back, clearing the way for Emily to enter. Emily stepped inside as Kate closed the front door behind her. Kate spun around, walking into the living room as Emily followed .
“Greg should be home any second. Could you keep the accusations to a minimum?” Kate asked as she sat down on the white sectional. Emily lowered herself down into the recliner beside the sectional as she stared down at her trembling hands in her lap.
“I really am sorry,” Emily said, almost whispering. “The police are convinced Hank’s responsible.”
“And what do you think?” Kate asked as she hugged a throw pillow to her chest, resting it on top of her large baby bump.
“I think I made a complete ass of myself and jumped to conclusions. I shouldn’t have ever said what I said. I was just so angry. I know I can’t take back the things I said or the things I’ve done, but please just try to understand.”
“Try to understand what exactly? You came into my house and accused Greg.”
“But just imagine how you’d feel, Kate. Imagine the feelings that would be bubbling up inside of you if you lost Eli. You would do anything you could to find out what happened to him. Even if that meant losing your best friend, you’d do whatever it took to find out who hurt him.”
“But I would never accuse you, Emily. That’s the difference. You didn’t even care about what Greg had to say. You were so convinced that he was guilty. You were so convinced that he did something to Blair.”
“I know, and I can’t say anything else other than I’m sorry. Just—” Emily sighed as she stood up. “Ever since Blair disappeared, I’ve been losing myself. I’ve been driving myself crazy and questioning everything I thought I knew. I didn’t even know Blair, Kate, and that’s the worst part. I thought I knew her; I thought I knew my own damn daughter. But then came all the lies and all the secrets, and I was drowning; I’m still drowning. It’s like I can’t get my head above water and I’m just grabbing for anything that will stick, clawing for anything that will help me find the truth,” Emily cried as she stared down at Kate in front of her.
“I just expected a little more trust,” Kate said as she stood up and inched toward Emily. “We’ve been good friends for a while, and I just never would have said the things you said. After all we’ve been through and after all the help we’ve given you with your addiction, it killed me inside. I’ve always been there for you when everyone else walked. I was there when you had no one else. You have no idea how bad the words you said hurt me,” Kate said as her lips trembled, her eyes swelling with tears.
“I’m so sorry. For everything.” Emily nodded as she stepped toward Kate. “I just have no one else, and I’m so sorry that I pushed you away. I’m so sorry for the things I said. I can’t do this alone.”
“You don’t have to,” Kate said as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Emily. Emily buried her face into Kate’s shoulder as she squeezed her arms around her, holding her as the tears rained down her face.
“I can’t even begin to tell you how horrible I felt after leaving here that night,” Emily cried.
“Good, I hope you felt like shit.” Kate smirked through her tears as Emily laughed.
“What is she doing here?” a deep voice rang out. Kate and Emily released one another and turned to see Greg standing in the doorway, his hand tugging at the tie dangling from his neck.
“She came to apologize,” Kate said, narrowing her eyes on him.
“That’s the ’be nice’ look, isn’t it?” Greg nodded.
“Greg, I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have ever accused you of anything,” Emily begged as Greg made his way across the living room.
“I heard about Hank. A couple guys in the office were talking about it. They think it’s him?” Greg asked as he plopped down on the couch, kicking his black loafers off. Greg lifted his legs into the air, resting his ankles on the edge of the coffee table in front of him.
“They think he’s involved. I guess he was intimate with Blair.” Emily nodded.
“God, what a sicko,” Kate groaned as she sat down beside Greg as he draped his arm around her.
“I just don’t know why Zoey would lie. Blair wouldn’t lie about being assaulted.”
“There were a lot of people there that night, Emily. I mean, me and Kate were both there. She knows I was a good boy; I was by her side all night.” Greg smirked.
“Was she there with anybody?” Emily asked as she sat down into the recliner.
“God, it was so long ago,” Kate said, shaking her head.
“No, she was.” Greg nodded. “She was with this guy. She didn’t introduce him to anyone, but he was on her the whole night, right beside her every second.”
“What did he look like? Do you know who he was?” Emily asked, sitting up straight.
“Well, from the way they were hanging all over each other, I just assumed it was her boyfriend.” G
reg shrugged.
“Wait,” Emily said as she pulled out her phone from her pocket and opened her Facebook. Emily went to Cole’s profile and handed her phone to Greg. Greg took the phone, studying Cole’s profile picture.
“No,” Greg said, shaking his head as he handed the phone back to Emily. “That wasn’t him. This guy was older. He was pretty stacked, a pretty big dude. His hair was combed back.”
“Alden,” Kate said as her face lit up.
“What?” Emily asked.
“I remember now! I asked her who he was. I told her he was cute. I thought he was her new man, but she said no. She said he was just a friend. She called him Alden.”
***
“Professor! Professor, open the door!” Emily demanded as she pounded her fist on the wooden door. Emily stepped back, examining the tiny one-story home in front of her. The painted yellow siding was chipped and cracked. The white front door, peeling and covered in dents and scratches. She was picturing a lavish condo, not a run-down dump like this. Emily sighed as she stepped back up to the door, pounding on it once more. “Professor!” Emily yelled as the door slowly opened a few inches. Emily’s eyes widened as she swallowed hard, staring back into the dark living room inside. “Professor?” Emily called out.
Silence.
Emily proceeded with caution, making her way into the messy living room as she stepped over a pile of sneakers beside the open front door. She winced in disgust as she examined the empty, grease-stained pizza box and empty beer bottles scattered all along the coffee table in front of the peeling, torn black leather couch.
“Johnathan, are you here? We need to talk!” Emily said as she turned to her right, making her way into the small kitchen. Dishes were piled high in the sink, the plates and crusty pans resting against the edge. “Johnathan?” Emily called out as she turned, examining the tiny card table beside the far wall covered in test papers and essays. She turned, making her way back into the living room as she stared down the long corridor to her right. “Professor?” Emily called out as she inched forward, making her way down the dark, silent corridor. She swallowed hard as she glanced at a door to her left. She pressed her ear against the door and heard running water. “Johnathan?”
