by Cruise, Anna
Ty's mouth set itself in a firm line while he thought. But there was no good answer. I was an albatross staying there. Word would get out fast, if it hadn't already, that I was there. All eyes would be on me. Campers would wonder what the hell was going on. The bottom line was that I was bad for business.
“You need to stay so we can figure out what the hell happened,” Ty finally said.
“What are you talking about?”
“Look, if you bail now, I'm sorry, but it looks like you're guilty,” he explained. “It adds fuel to the fire that Jorgenson is lighting. It looks like you're running. But if you stay?” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “If you stay, maybe we can figure out what happened to Annie. And to your sister.”
I looked at him like he was crazy. “My sister fell in the river. Nothing happened to her other than her older sister fucked up in looking after her.”
He nodded. “Maybe. But you mentioned the bruise thing. On her back.”
“It was ten years ago, Ty,” I said, shaking my head. I was almost sorry I'd told him about it. “There's nothing to look at.”
He rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. But we can figure out what happened to Annie.”
“Sorry. I didn't pack my magnifying glass or fingerprint kit. And, honestly, Ty. She probably did the same thing my sister did. Wandered off and fell into the water.” I paused. I was grateful that she'd been found, unharmed, but there was a small part of me that balked at the unfairness of it all. She'd survived. My sister had not. “She was just luckier.”
“Maybe,” he said. “But wouldn't it be nice to know? For sure?”
I shook my head. “I'm not sure there's any way to know anything for sure.”
His hand snaked over my thigh and he gave it a gentle squeeze. He smiled at me. “There's always a way.”
I wasn't sure what he meant, but before I could ask, his father came back into the room, a grim expression knotting his entire face.
He looked at me. “Sheriff Jorgenson would like to speak with you now.”
TWENTY FOUR
Jorgenson was waiting for me at the bottom of the porch steps outside. His expression was blank as I let the screen door shut behind me. I stood there for a moment, then sat down on the top step. It was still damp from the storm that had blown through earlier and the moisture seeped into my shorts.
“Reillys are good people,” Jorgenson said, pushing up the brim of his hat.
“They've been very nice to me,” I said.
He nodded. “I'm sure.”
I sat there and waited, offering nothing more. I wasn't sure what he was looking to get from me, but I wasn't going to talk just to talk. If he wanted me to say something, he was going to have to ask the questions. And, even then, I didn't know how forthcoming I wanted to be. A part of me was on immediate alert, thinking I should contact a lawyer before I said another word. But another part of me didn't want to complicate things, didn't want to do anything that would raise his suspicions even more.
“You sticking around for awhile?” he asked.
“Just until my car's fixed. Then I'm on my way.”
“To?”
“Madison. For school.”
“The university?”
I nodded. He wasn't just making casual conversation. I knew he'd be calling the school, asking if I was enrolled. He was going to verify every answer I gave him.
“Where's your car?” he asked.
“With some guy named Sven. He's putting a transmission in it.”
He nodded again, probably reminding himself to call Sven.
“How are your parents?” he asked.
I laughed and shook my head. “Really? You wanna make small talk?” I glared at him. “Maybe soften me up and then I'll tell you all my dark secrets without realizing what I'm doing?”
He didn't say anything, just watched me, his face void of expression.
I looked away from him. “I've seen too many Law & Order episodes to let you catch me with that one, Sheriff.” I paused. “But they're fine. I'll let them know you asked.”
He shifted his weight, his boots scuffing against the sidewalk. “Tell me again how you ended up here.”
“Didn't my sister and Ty and everyone else you asked tell you?” I asked, cutting my eyes back to him.
He didn't blink. “I want to hear it from you.”
I took a deep breath and recounted how I'd left North Dakota, how the car had conked out on the road, how Ty had found me and how he'd invited me to stay with them.
“And you didn't think it was weird to come and stay here?” the sheriff asked.
“I didn't know this was where he lived.”
“You had your eyes closed on the drive over?”
I felt my defenses go on high alert. He was doing his best to get under my skin and I was determined to try to stay calm. “I meant until we pulled up here.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And then?”
“And then we were here and I didn't know what to tell him,” I said. “So I didn't say anything.”
“I've gathered that.”
I made a face and squinted into the sunlight, wishing I was any other place on Earth. The storm from earlier had blown through, leaving a trail of thin clouds. They streaked across the sky like a spool of ribbon.
“Last night, I understand that you took a walk,” he said.
“Yep.”
“And that's when you met the little girl and her family?”
I shrugged. “I'm not sure I'd say met. We were walking one way, they were walking another. Ty said hello to the father. Then we kept walking and they kept walking. End of story.”
“Except it wasn't,” Jorgenson commented.
I felt my anger flare and I wanted nothing more than to scream at him, to tell him that nothing had happened. But I knew that would only make things worse so I pressed my lips together and stared at the cracks in the pavement.
“Then what happened this morning?” he asked.
I expelled a breath. “Ty and I were talking. Right here on the steps. Mr. Reilly called for him. Came outside,” I said. A lump formed in my throat. “We took off to go and help look for her with everyone else. Ty and I took the bank. I was down by the river. And I found her.”
“You found her,” he said and his words sounded accusatory, as if finding her had been some sort of crime.
“Yeah,” I said. “I found her. I couldn't tell if she was unconscious or what, but we rolled her over, she coughed up water and Ty said she was alright.”
“And then?”
I shuffled my feet against the step. “And then? I passed out.”
“You passed out.” He repeated my words and I could tell from the tone of his voice that he didn't believe a word I was saying.
I stayed quiet.
“Why did you go where you went?” he asked.
“What?”
He sighed impatiently. “The riverbank. Why did you go there? To that particular spot?”
“Because that's where everyone else was headed,” I said. “To the river.”
“But you found her.”
“So? If I hadn't, someone else would've. She wasn't hidden.”
“But you found her.”
I didn't know what he was getting at. “Yeah. So?”
“Almost like you knew exactly where to look,” he said. His brown-gray eyes were on me, cool, assessing.
I stared back at him. I knew what he was insinuating. I took a steadying breath and tried to keep my cool. “I was having breakfast with the Reillys this morning when she went missing. Or do you think I've somehow convinced all of them to lie for me?”
“I don't know exactly when she went missing,” he said.
“I was never alone,” I told him.
He nodded, but his expression told me that he didn't seem to care that much. “But yet you found her.”
“We've already agreed on that.”
He leaned against the porch railing and looked out toward the campground for a mo
ment before moving his eyes back to me. “Here's what I'm having a problem with, Lily. You show up here out of the blue. And, despite it being the place your own sister died, you decide to stay. You don't tell anyone about your history here. Then another girl—another girl who is almost the spitting image of your little sister—goes missing and you happen to be the one who finds her.” He bit his bottom lip for a moment, looking like he was thinking about all of his words. “That, my dear, is just a bit too coincidental for me.”
“I don't know what to tell you other than what I've already told you,” I said evenly. “Except that I didn't do a fucking thing wrong.”
He glared at me. “Watch your mouth, young lady.” His voice was sharp.
I looked away.
“As far as I'm concerned, your sister's death was never resolved properly,” he said. “And while I'm grateful that this little girl was found safe, I'm still troubled by the fact that she disappeared and went into the river, just like your sister did. And once again, you're here, right smack in the middle of it. I've been doing this too long to know that there's something we're not seeing. Because I don't believe in coincidences.”
The way he spoke, his tone measured and even, had me doubting my own story. The sheriff had a way of doing that. He made me feel small, the way he spoke to me and looked at me. And he made me feel guilty. I remembered it from when I was younger. It made me want to crawl into a hole and I remember being scared of him even after my father told him to get lost. I was feeling small and guilty again, but I wasn't going to crawl into any holes.
I finally spoke. “Maybe it's you, then.”
“Excuse me?”
I'd caught him off-guard and it was all the invitation I needed to continue. “You were here then. You're here now. Right smack in the middle of it.” I looked up at him. “To use your words, Sheriff.”
Crimson spread through his cheeks.
I stood. “So maybe I'll do what you've done. Start asking people about you, insinuating that you aren't the good old sheriff you'd like everyone to believe you are. Then let's see what people think about coincidences.” I knew I was in dangerous territory, but I didn't care. I didn't want him bullying me. Harassing me.
“You need to watch yourself, Miss McMahon,” he said quietly.
“Is that a threat?” I asked.
“I am telling you to watch yourself,” he said again.
“I'm done with this,” I said, turning to head back inside.
“We're done when I say we're done.”
I turned back to him. “Am I under arrest?” I demanded.
He didn't say anything.
“I'll take that as a no,” I said. “So since I'm not under arrest and I've answered your questions and been totally cooperative, I'm going back inside. And if you need to talk to me again, please let me know. I'll find an attorney to sit with you who can explain the concept of harassment.”
I turned and went back into the house, slamming the screen door behind me. My heart was hammering and my hands shook as I closed the door. The blood whooshed through my ears and I breathed in and out, trying to steady my breathing.
I'd stood up to him and it had felt good but it didn't change the fact that he'd found a way to rattle me. Rattle me good.
TWENTY FIVE
I was sitting on the bed, trying to stop myself from shaking, when Jenna poked her head in the door. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
She stood there for a moment, then came into the room. “What's wrong?”
“Nothing,” I repeated.
“You're a terrible liar, Lily.”
I squeezed my left hand in my right one. “Jorgenson.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What did he say?”
I recounted our conversation outside.
Jenna sat down on the floor, cross-legged. She'd braided her hair, a complicated French braid that looked like it had taken hours to do. She tugged on the tail of it as she spoke. “Such a dick. I mean, the girl was found. She's fine. There's not even a crime. Why the hell does he have such a hard-on for you?”
I shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.”
She didn't find my attempt at humor very funny and she frowned. “Bullshit. He needs to back off. And I'll say it one more time. We shouldn't be staying here.”
I leaned back on the bed. I was torn. Part of me wanted to pack up, stay at some crappy motel for a couple of days and the second my car was done, floor the accelerator and head for Madison. But part of me agreed with what Ty had said. If I took off, it made me look guilty. What if something else was going on?
“Ty said I should stay.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, I'll bet that made you happy.”
I didn't want to get into it with her. “I don't have any money to go anywhere else. The repairs on the car alone are going to crush me. And you don't have any either.”
Jenna sighed, as if she knew I was right, but she didn't want to admit it. “Still. It's uncomfortable being here.”
“I know.”
“We could camp somewhere,” she suggested.
I frowned at her. “We don't have a tent.”
“We could sleep in my car.” She hesitated. “I mean, Kyle's car.”
I just stared at her.
“We could call Dad...”
“No.” My voice was firm. Resolute. “We're not bringing him into this.”
“But he might be able to help.”
The last thing I wanted to do was bring my parents into the mess I'd created. I would never call our mother; even Jenna knew this. But Dad? He was the one person I would have called, had I been inclined to ask for help. Because he'd always been on my side, had always believed me. Our family was fucked up for a thousand different reasons, most of them related to Rosie's death, but the one thing that had never wavered, that had remained pristine through the whole sullied mess, was my father's love and support. And I wanted to keep it that way.
“Stop,” I said. “We're not leaving. We don't have a choice. We're stuck.”
She made a face but didn't say anything. There was nothing to say. Neither of us had money to go anywhere else. If Ty's father was willing to let us stay, we didn't have a better option.
“So what are we going to do?” Jenna asked.
“Wait for my car to get fixed.”
“You said that would be a couple of days.”
I nodded.
“So, we just sit here and twiddle our thumbs?”
I thought about what Ty had said. He wanted to look for answers, to figure out what really happened. Not just to Annie, but to my sister.
I didn't want to tell Jenna. An image from earlier in the day flashed in my head, of the look on her face when I finally realized she was just as messed up from the events of the morning as I had been. The big sister gene I didn't know I had when it came to her kicked in again and I wanted nothing more than to protect her from whatever ugliness we might uncover. Or whatever nothingness, which is what I tended to think Ty and I would find.
“I don't know,” I said.
“Great,” she muttered.
“You can leave,” I reminded her. “You should leave. Isn't Kyle waiting for you to bring his car back?”
“I told you. I've promised him two blow jobs,” she said dismissively. “He's fine.”
I shot her a look of disapproval and she smiled. “Relax. He has access to another car. And I didn't promise him shit.”
I wasn't sure I believed her. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd made a trade like that.
“Even so,” I said. “You don't need to be here.”
She leaned back on her hands. “You want me to leave?”
I did. I wanted her to get the hell out of Pelican Lake and never look back. Just like our family had done ten years earlier. But I knew my sister. She was wired to do the exact opposite of whatever I said—our time together at Lake Land had pretty much proved that. “I didn't say that.”
“I already told you. I'm
not gonna try and fuck your boyfriend, if that's what you're worried about,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I think he might be gay, anyway.”
“Yeah, right. Just because every guy you eye-fuck doesn't whip it out for you doesn't meant they're gay.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Most whip it out.”
I shook my head. I didn't want to hear and I didn't want to know.
“But I'm not leaving anyway,” she said. “I”m not leaving you alone here.” She smiled. “Besides, I have a date.”
I looked at her. “A date?”
She bounced to her feet and it was like our conversation had never happened. She wasn't upset, she wasn't argumentative—she was suddenly smiling, pleased with herself. “Yep.”
“With who?” But even as I asked, I knew.
“With Sven. The car guy.” She walked to the door and smiled back at me. “I'll let you know how his transmission is.”
TWENTY SIX
I needed a shower.
I felt like I'd lived through a week's worth of hell—and I looked like it, too. My legs were still streaked with mud and I felt soiled, dirty, by my conversations with Mr. Reilly and the sheriff. I needed to rinse off, let the water strip away the dirt and the worry and the fears. As soon as Jenna left, I grabbed some clean clothes and a towel and headed to the bathroom. I stripped out of my clothes and stepped into the shower, wincing just a little as the water touched the cuts on my feet. I stood under the stream of water, letting it pelt my scalp and skin, willing it to wash everything away. I grabbed the bar of soap and glided it along my skin, watching the gray water pool in the tub as it swirled down the drain. I wished I could scrub away the thoughts and fears that were in my head and somehow find a way to step out of that shower a fresh and new me. A me that wasn't haunted by the past, a me that didn't feel guilty for things I had no part of, a me that didn't feel like everyone was now watching me with unveiled suspicion.
I turned the faucet off and stepped out of the shower. I was clean but I only felt marginally better. I dried myself off, took a long time brushing out my hair so that it felt smooth and tangle-free for the first time in days. I dressed and finally made my way downstairs, dreading who or what might be waiting for me.
