by Cruise, Anna
Instead, he looked at me, cradled in his arms. “Is all that true?”
My aching throat was too constricted with tears to answer. I just nodded.
He held me tighter and looked at Jorgenson. If they spoke, I didn't hear them. The sheriff stared at me for a moment, his expression unreadable, then went to Jenna, got her on her feet and led her up the bank, his hand locked firmly on her elbow, guiding her as they disappeared from view.
Not once did she look in my direction.
The paramedics arrived and looked me over. They took my vitals. They put some stuff on my neck to ease the burning of the scratches. They looked down my throat. They said I looked fine, but they wanted to transport me to the hospital as a precautionary measure. I said no. They persisted. I still said no. They turned their attention to my dad, who said he thought it might be a good idea to go.
I stood on wobbly legs and said no again.
I signed the release form the paramedics reluctantly handed to me. With Ty and our fathers, we followed them up the bank and back onto the trail. There was one other police car parked in front of the Reilly's house, an officer from a neighboring town standing next to Jorgenson's car. Jenna was in the back of the sheriff's car, her head down, her still-wet hair plastered to her scalp.
I averted my eyes and stayed away.
I gave a brief statement to Jorgenson. He didn't offer me an apology and I didn't want one. All I wanted was to be done with all of it. I never wanted to see him again and with any luck, I wouldn't.
“I may have more questions,” he said to me, jotting down notes on a small memo pad.
I just nodded.
“Speaking of questions,” Ty said, taking a step closer to me. “I have a question for you.”
Jorgenson cut his eyes in his direction.
“The bruise,” he said. “On Rosie. Why is there no photo of it?”
Jorgenson's mouth twisted into an ugly line. “I knew Caroline still had a thing for you.”
A muscle in Ty's jaw twitched but he remained silent.
“It wasn't in the file when she showed it to you,” Jorgenson said. “Or copied it or however she got it to you. I sent it down to the Cities because I was going back through the file when Ms. McMahon here showed up again and I was hoping they might be able to do a little more analysis with it than I could.” He paused, raised an eyebrow. “Be happy to let you know when it comes back to me if you still want to take a look at it.”
Ty didn't answer him.
Jorgenson turned to me. “You'll need to make yourself available.”
Ty frowned at him. “She's leaving tomorrow, Sheriff. You know that.”
He touched the brim of his hat, adjusting it. “I'm aware. But we're looking at a murder investigation here. And, by the look of things, two charges of attempted murder.”
Ty frowned. “Lily isn't a suspect any more.”
“No,” Jorgenson said slowly. “She isn't.” His brown eyes locked with mine. “She's the star witness.”
It was the closest to an apology I was going to get. I said nothing and averted my eyes. I didn't want to be a witness; I didn't want to be anything except done with him and Pelican Lake and all of the tragedies it represented.
Jorgenson flipped his memo pad shut and stuffed the pen back in his shirt pocket. He tipped his hat goodbye and I stood there, motionless, as I watched him walk back to his car and position himself in the driver's seat. He drove away, Jenna huddled in the back seat.
And my sister, my murdering, lying sister, never looked up.
When the police cleared out, my father took me aside. “I think we should—”
“Yes,” I said, knowing what he was going to say. “I want to leave tonight.”
“We can find a place to stay. We'll get your car tomorrow and decide on what to do about getting you to Madison.”
I nodded. I couldn't think too far ahead, but I knew I'd had enough of Lake Land.
“And...Jenna?” Her name sounded foreign, foul on my tongue.
A pained expression crossed my dad's face. “Your mother is coming,” he said. He covered his eyes with his hand, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “We...we have two daughters who need their parents right now. In very different ways.”
I felt a flood of fresh tears. My dad and Jenna had always been at odds with each other, but it didn't mean he didn't love her. I might have to ready myself for living with the idea of having a sister who had done horrible, terrible things but I was pretty sure it didn't compare to being a parent of that child.
“I need to pack up my stuff,” I said.
“I'll wait.”
I shook my head. I needed time alone. Not with my thoughts and not to come to terms with what had just happened. I needed to save that for later, when I wasn't half-numb with shock and disbelief. No, I needed time for something else. Someone else.
Ty.
“No,” I said, trying to make my voice sound firm. But it was thin and raspy and I knew I'd have to be more convincing than that. “Please. I need to do this alone.”
He gritted his teeth and started to protest.
“Please?”
He stared at me, a flurry of emotions crossing his face. I could read them all. Worry. Sadness. Anxiety. And love.
“Fine,” he said, relenting. “I'll text you when I get to the hotel. We can figure things out from there.” He wrapped me in a hug and I could feel the hesitancy. Not because he didn't want to touch me but because he was holding back, wary of hurting my frail, battered body.
Colin Reilly approached me after my dad left, offering me a mumbled apology, or something close to an apology. I didn't say anything, just nodded. I didn't feel the need to thank anyone. There was nothing to be thankful for, except for the fact that I was still alive, and there was only one person who had given me that. He disappeared inside the house, until finally, Ty and I were alone on the front steps.
“So,” he said.
I wrapped my arms around myself. “I don't know what to say,” I admitted.
I didn't. Everything had happened so fast and I was still processing, still trying to figure out the hows and the whys and, more importantly, my reaction to all of it.
“You don't have to say anything, Lily.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at me. “But I just want you to know something.”
“Okay.”
“I can't imagine what's going through your head,” he said. He shook his head. “I mean, I truly can't. I have no idea what to say or what to do. You know? I know it's going to take some time for you. To work through everything, to figure out how you feel about all the stuff that has happened. And I just...” He paused, swallowing a couple of times. He cleared his throat. “I just want you to know that I'm not going anywhere. What we talked about earlier? I meant it. Just because you're gone doesn't mean I'm done with you.”
I swallowed. “Even after today?”
“Especially after today,” he said. He pulled one of his hands from his pocket and reached for mine. His fingers tightened over mine. “I'm not going to crowd you. I'll give you all the time you need. But I'll be here. Waiting on you.”
I leaned over and kissed him. It hurt to stretch my neck, but I didn't care. “Thank you,” I whispered.
He put his hand on my cheek and I leaned into it, closing my eyes. “There's something else.”
I opened my eyes.
“I...I think I'm falling in love with you, Lily,” he said. “And I know the time has been short—I know it's too soon to say it. But I don't care. I almost lost you today. And...” His voice cracked a little and I saw tears form in the corner of his eyes. “And I realized that I don't care if it's soon. I don't care if people think I'm crazy for telling you now. I don't want to waste a single second with you. Because I almost lost out on you. For forever.”
I felt my own eyes cloud with tears. I didn't blink them back, just let them slip and slide down my cheeks. He lifted his hand and wiped them away, his thumb a gentle caress on m
y skin.
I put my hand over his and smiled at him. “It's never too soon to say it.”
FIFTY SIX
“I need a couple of minutes, Dad,” I said.
We were standing in front of the Reilly's home. I'd packed up my things, thanked Mr and Mrs. Reilly and hugged Ty in his room. I told him I didn't want some long goodbye and didn't want him to come outside with me. He'd resisted at first but I'd held my ground. I promised I would call him the next day and I meant it. I would. I knew I was going to miss him. He finally relented, gave me one last long kiss and I'd gone downstairs and out to Kyle's car. My dad had texted me when he arrived at the hotel and I told him I'd meet him there.
Except he was waiting in the driveway, the engine of his car running.
“What are you doing here?” I'd asked.
“I've already lost two daughters,” he said, his voice sharp. “Cut me a little slack and at least let me show you the way to the hotel?”
Any irritation I'd felt had instantly melted away.
“Didn't you already say your goodbyes?” he asked.
I tossed my bag in the backseat of Kyle's car. “Yeah. But I need to say goodbye to one more person. Alright?”
He thought for a moment, obviously torn about letting me out of his sight. He sighed and nodded. “Okay. I'll be here in the car.”
“I'll just be a few,” I said and headed down the trail.
I wandered down the dusty path a few hundred yards and found Dave and Cheryl Phillips sitting in camp chairs around an empty fire ring. Jake sat in the dirt, directing a fleet of toy cars on an imaginary road. He looked up, offered a smile, and continued playing. Cheryl stood when she saw me. Her husband followed her gaze and stood as well.
“Hi,” I said, holding up a hand.
Dave immediately frowned, but Cheryl smiled, a sad, almost apologetic smile. “Hello, Lily. We heard what happened.”
“I'm sorry,” I said, my breath catching. “For what my sister did.”
Cheryl shook her head. “No. Don't apologize. I'm sorry for you.”
Dave shuffled his feet, but didn't say anything.
“Are you okay?” Cheryl said, her eyes moving to my neck.
My hand instantly flew to the scrapes and cuts on my skin. “I'm fine. Thank you.”
We stood there awkwardly for a moment. I looked past them, my eyes settling on the camper.
Annie was in the window, watching.
“I'm leaving,” I said. “In a few minutes.”
Dave and Cheryl exchanged looks.
“But I was hoping I might be able to say goodbye to Annie,” I said. “I...have something for her.”
They exchanged glances again.
“I promise,” I said. “It'll only take a minute.”
“I'm not sure that's a great idea,” Dave said, frowning.
Cheryl touched her husband's elbow, but she looked at me. “I'm not sure she'll come outside, Lily.”
“I know,” I said. “Could I maybe tell her through the window? If she doesn't want to come out, I can leave it with you.”
Dave scuffed his feet against the gravel while Cheryl took a moment to think. “Alright,” she said. “It's okay.”
Dave looked at her disapprovingly, but she squeezed his elbow gently, then nodded at me.
I walked past them toward the camper. Annie stayed in the window, her head tilted to the side, like she was wondering about something. She didn't smile, but she didn't seem unhappy, either.
I reached the window and held up my hand. “Hi, Annie.”
A half-smile flitted across her face and disappeared.
“I'm leaving,” I said, touching the window. “I wanted to say goodbye. And thank you.”
The half-smile flickered again. I knew she had no idea what I was thanking her for, but I felt like I owed her everything. For surviving in the river. For recognizing Jenna. It was her actions that had answered all of the questions. She was the one that was setting me free from the past. Even if she didn't know it.
“I have a present for you,” I said. “If you'd like to have it.”
She stayed there for a moment, the half-smile flickering like a dying candle, then disappeared from the window, the curtain fluttering in her place.
I waited a moment, but the door to the camper didn't open.
I looked at her parents. Dave was staring at the ground but Cheryl gave me a sympathetic look. A creaking noise pierced the silence and I looked back to the camper. Annie was standing on the first step, holding the door open.
I looked at Cheryl. She smiled and nodded.
I walked slowly toward Annie, not wanting to spook her. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out what I'd brought for her. When I reached her, with her standing on the top step, we were at eye level.
“My sister made me this,” I said, tears blurring my vision. “A long time ago. She drew it for me. And I wanted you to have it.” I held it out to her.
She stood there for a moment, that half-smile still flirting with her lips, then held out a tiny hand. I slipped the paper into her fingers and they closed over it. She shuffled forward, letting the door close behind her, unfolding the paper with both hands.
“Do you know what that is?” I asked when she had it completely unfolded.
She stared at it, entranced.
“It's a rose,” I said. “And that was my sister's name. Rose.”
She continued to stare at the picture, her finger tracing the outline of one of the crooked petals my sister had drawn over ten years ago.
“You look a lot like she did,” I said. “So I wanted to say thank you. For bringing back the good memories.”
And she had. Yes, there was a lot of bad stuff—new bad stuff that I'd have to deal with. But there was also closure. It would take me a while but I knew I would stop blaming myself for my sister's death. I would realize that it hadn't been my fault. And I would let the good memories—the memories of my sweet, little sister—back in. I'd be able to remember Rosie without all of the baggage. I could let that go. Annie had given me that.
So I wanted her to have something to remember Rose by.
“I have to go now, Annie,” I said, wiping at my eyes. “I hope you have a wonderful life.”
She finally lifted her eyes from the picture and held it to her chest, hugging it like you would a stuffed animal. I laughed softly through my tears and glanced back at her parents. Cheryl was smiling and Dave was watching, not frowning.
I figured that was good as it got.
I held up my hand. “Goodbye, Annie.”
The smile showed itself again and she hesitated, then reached out with her hand, with her palm up.
I looked at Cheryl. She nodded vigorously.
I turned back to Annie, but even through my tears, I knew what I saw, what I was reaching for. I held up my hand and pressed my palm gently to hers.
“Goodbye, Annie,” I whispered again.
Inwardly, I whispered another goodbye. A different one.
Goodbye, Rosie.
THE END
ABOUT ANNA
Anna Cruise has been writing and drooling over boys since middle school. Lots of years have passed but some things never change...
DOWN BY THE WATER is her fifth novel. You can find Anna on Twitter and Facebook and you can follow her blog.
Additional titles include:
IT WAS YOU
IT WAS ME
IF I FALL
MAVERICK
SET IN STONE
Keep reading for an excerpt of MAVERICK
MAVERICK
PROLOGUE
I stared at the papers and pictures spread out on the bed in front of me. Advertisements. Articles. Candid shots. One person stared back at me.
Kellen Handler.
I tried to focus on the task at hand, the task I was being asked to do. No, I amended. I wasn't being asked. I was being told. Ordered.
I saw his sun-kissed hair, thick with salt and sweat from hours on the waves.
I saw blue-green eyes that matched the color of the ocean. I saw browned skin and the smooth, ripped abs and chest that screamed surfer.
The cocky smile as he hawked sunglasses or board shorts. The look of intense concentration captured in photo spreads as he navigated the waves or eased himself into the barrel of some epic wave.
I tried to detach from who he was and all that he represented. But I couldn't.
He represented everything I'd loved.
And everything I now hated.
I swallowed hard and repositioned myself on the bed. I tucked my hair behind my ears and stared down at the pictures again. I played with the gold hoop in my ear, fingering it with my thumb and forefinger, then shifted so I was toying with a lock of hair. Winding it around my finger, as tight as I could, then releasing.
It wasn't him, I told myself. I didn't know him. I'd never been part of the pro surfing world. But the locals? The boys I'd grown up with? My brothers and their friends...and my friends, too? Those were the guys I'd spent my life with. Following them to the beach and out into the water. Letting them try to teach me how to ride the waves when I was younger. And, when I was older, accompanying them at the crack of dawn to watch them shred and do their best to, if not tame the waves, at least ride them for a little while before being tossed to shore.
I'd spent my entire life as part of them. Cheering them on. Encouraging them. And loving them. My brothers. My friends. And Luke.
I felt the tears threaten and I blinked several times, trying to stem them.
Kellen Handler was not Luke. Would never be Luke.
He was a job.
ONE
Something—no, someone—was rubbing against my leg. Soft skin, silky smooth, gliding back and forth over my calf. My thigh. Fingertips traveled from my hip to my stomach.
I grunted and forced my eyes open. A naked chick with blond hair was curled up next to me. A naked chick whose name I couldn't remember.
