“Do you know if she has a boyfriend?” Herring asked.
Corby shook her head again.
“Do you know who her friends are?” Dodge asked and opened his notebook.
“Jane River and Sylvia Ferro,” Corby said. “They are BFF’s. You think she ran away with her boyfriend?”
“Thank you for your help,” Herring said and headed for the door. “I ask that you not share our conversation at your school.”
“I won’t,” Corby assured.
“We’ll get back to you,” Dodge promised.
Both men looked like they were in a hurry. Perhaps they were. In cases of missing children the first twenty-four hours were the most important. Corby remembered that from some shows about kidnapping. Or maybe it was forty-eight? She didn’t remember for sure.
By the time the door closed behind the police and her parents returned to the room, Corby had put all the dishes from the table into the sink and sat down in a chair. She still wanted to sleep, but she had no fear once again and didn’t have colored circles in front of her eyes.
“What a mess,” Mother said as she sat down in the chair across from Corby with a cup of coffee. Dad made coffee before the detectives arrived and it had probably cooled down by this time, but Mother didn’t show her discontent. Dad sat on the sofa and began checking his phone. “What could have happened to her?”
“They live near our shop. What could happen?” Dad said, not looking up from his phone. “Tourists walk there all the time. From morning to night.”
“Did she really run away with a boy? That’s just horrible. Her poor mother. Corby, you’d better not even think about doing something like this.”
“Do you think she really ran away with a boy?” Corby asked. She couldn’t even imagine that someone would think of that. As far as she knew, Vera didn’t have a boyfriend. Adults were stupid, even if they worked for the police.
“I don’t know. You’ve never talked about her,” Mother said.
“We are not friends. She’s friends with Jane and Sylvia.”
“You are not on the best terms with Jane, right?” Mom asked.
“It doesn’t matter. We are not enemies,” Corby said, then she stood up and hurried up the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Mother asked, surprised. “What’s wrong? Did I say something?”
“She doesn’t like to talk about it, dear. You have to remember that,” Dad said.
“Great. It’s my fault now! What else did I do?”
Corby slammed the door of her room shut and fell on the bed. The pill had stopped working and now Corby was shaking as if she had come out naked on the street in a winter storm. The detectives came and questioned her. They asked her about Vera because she was gone and Corby was the last one who had seen her ... Who had seen her alive.
They didn’t know. They didn’t realize that she knew.
Of course they didn’t know; otherwise she wouldn’t be in her bed now, but rather in a police car, handcuffed. They didn’t know and if she continued acting like today, they would never figure it out. They wouldn’t find Vera before Corby received her driver’s license. Everything was going to be all right.
“How can they think anything bad about me? I’m an honor student. I’m quiet and fat. I couldn’t do anything wrong.”
Corby got out of bed, went to the window, and leaned against the glass to look at the shop. An elderly man came out carrying a paper package in his hand, and then a woman with a baby went in. Life went on as usual and those people didn’t know that in the freezer, behind hanging meat, there was a dead girl. Corby closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. She wanted to go down to the shop and check on Vera, but she had never gone there during the weekend before and if she did it today, they could start suspecting something. She had to wait. Only one and a half days left if she didn’t count Monday. On Monday, she would have to go to school then home, and only in the evening she could visit the shop. She could see Vera after Gaby finished her work. In total, she had to wait for three days.
“I’ll go crazy!”
Corby watched as people went in and out the doors of the shop.
“Today is a short day ... I can say that I need to go somewhere and then I can check on Vera very quickly. That’s a good idea. Maybe.”
Corby went into the bathroom, washed her face, took the pills out of her pocket, and shoved them into an empty box of toothpaste. She didn’t know if they helped her or not, but they could come in handy in the future. After that, she went downstairs and told her parents that she was sorry.
“I have a test soon and I’m sort of nervous,” she said to her mother who frowned at these words.
“Well,” her mother said. “Don’t raise your voice anymore.”
“I can do that,” Corby smiled.
“Great. Where do you want to go for lunch today? I think I’m in the mood for Chinese.”
CHAPTER 8
Corby didn’t go to the shop on Saturday or Sunday. She really wanted to go there on Sunday and even came up with the excuse that she had forgotten a book, but then it became very cold outside, there were two of her favorite series on television, and she decided to postpone the visit until Monday.
No one else bothered her. Vera’s mom called twice, but she only talked to Corby’s dad and mom. They said that Corby couldn’t add anything new and that this whole situation was stressing her out when she had an important test coming up at school. Then Corby heard her mother apologizing and assuring Vera’s mother that, of course, nothing compared with the loss of a child.
Mom and Dad talked all day Sunday about Vera, they came up with ideas of where she could have disappeared to, and Corby restrained herself a couple of times from yelling at them and telling them to shut up. That could make things worse. She could tell them that she knew where Vera was and that she was the one who helped her to end up in that place. She restrained herself, said nothing, and went to school on Monday morning—instead of to prison, where she could go if she told the truth. She slept well both nights, but she could thank the pills for that. The pills she stole from her mother’s orange bottle. They did something to her head so that she had to sleep no matter what and she liked it. Besides, she stopped worrying about someone finding Vera. She didn’t have to check on her in order to prevent it. She couldn’t spend all her time in the shop to protect the freezer anyway, so what was the point? If Vera was discovered, Corby would find out about it first.
“Today everyone is going to talk about Vera,” Mother said. She was the one who usually took Corby to school on her way to work and she was the one to do it today. They stopped at the red traffic light and Mother applied red lipstick to her lips. Corby wanted to say that she couldn’t bear to hear the name Vera anymore, but she clenched her fists and said nothing. Then she thought that it was very good for her. All the students would be busy talking about Vera and forget about her.
“Yes, probably,” she said. They rode in silence, as always. There was nothing to talk about. Usually, Mother chatted about her work without requiring comments from Corby, but today she didn’t do that. Corby loved to listen to her mother’s stories about television, she enjoyed looking at her beautiful clothes and makeup, imagining that one day she would look as good as her mother. Why not? Maybe. Or maybe not. She had boobs as Vera said, but that was all. She was fat and ugly, but Vera was dead. Stupid, skinny Vera.
Corby glanced at her mother’s breasts. What if Vera was right and her mother really had fake boobs. How was it possible? As long as she remembered her mother, her breasts had always been the same size. Corby even wanted to ask, she could be wrong, but her mother pulled up to the school.
“Bye, honey. See you tonight.”
“See you, Mom.”
Corby accepted a kiss, as she had always done since childhood, though now it seemed strange. She left the car and hunched her shoulders against the wind and looks from other students as she headed to the school building.
She started to hear
conversations about Vera in the hallway. Students talked, assumed, and argued. No one paid attention to Corby and no one suspected that she was the only one who knew what had happened to her schoolmate. She was the reason why everyone talked about this girl today. Suddenly Corby felt something strange after she thought of it. The feeling was not at all familiar. She evaluated it and realized that it was pride. First time in her life, she was proud of herself. Maybe not the very first time. It probably happened in her early childhood when she used a potty or memorized songs. In her conscious age, she didn’t feel pride or anything close to it. She was a good student, but it was natural and she wasn’t the only one bringing home good grades. Now it was a different story. Now she was …
Corby stopped as if the thought had materialized and crashed on her. She could feel it physically. Maybe it was an accident, but she was a part of it. She deprived a person of her life. She did it. She and no one else. She also was the one who knew where Vera could be found. She and no one else.
“Get out of my way, you fat cow!”
Corby almost fell when two students pushed her in the shoulder while walking past her, as if she blocked their way. She didn’t even know them well, because they were only in one of her classes. Why did they hate her so much? What did she do to them? Vera also hated her and where was she now? Now she was in the fridge, in the shop of Corby’s dad and didn’t hate anyone. Didn’t hate and didn’t love. Her life ended so quickly and unexpectedly that it was hard to believe. Sometimes it happened just like this. You live, rejoice, build plans for the future, drive other people crazy, and all of a sudden—a finish line. Why did you try so hard?
Sitting behind her desk, Corby looked around. Jane was sitting on her desk, Sylvia and three other girls standing by her side. Sylvia was biting her nails and Corby had never seen her doing that before. Sylvia’s nails were always long and painted in fashionable colors. Sometimes she even had beautiful art on her nails. Corby knew that Sylvia’s mother owned a beauty salon and Sylvia visited it all the time.
The bell rang, but Mrs. Gullen didn’t come in right afterwards as usual. She came seven minutes later. Corby checked the clock. Her heart was beating faster than usual when the teacher finally appeared, but her hands were steady. She wasn’t worried that one of the students or the teacher would figure out the truth. She was rather excited to hear the upcoming speech from Mrs. Gullen. She should talk about Vera.
“As you probably know,” the teacher confirmed her thoughts, “we have a huge situation in our school. A very unpleasant situation. Vera Bodroff didn’t come home on Friday and her parents can’t find her. She disappeared without a trace. Today the police are visiting our school and they want to talk to some of you. Our Principal personally asked me to tell you about it and asked you to cooperate. Vera’s parents are desperate, so any information may help.”
“Of course we’ll help,” Jane said. Of course, who else. “We are not idiots. Vera is my best friend. Her mom called us three times, but I don’t know anything. By the way, Mackentile, I just remembered, her mom said that Vera went to your father’s shop before she disappeared.”
Corby wiped her palms on her pants. They suddenly became sweaty. She felt the gazes of her classmates from all directions.
“Is that true, Corby?” Mrs. Gullen asked.
Corby looked at the teacher and lowered her eyes. “Yes. She took her order and left. I didn’t see her after that.”
“Did she say anything?” Sylvia asked.
Corby shook her head.
“Why would she talk to a box of meat,” Jane replied and Corby heard a few chuckles.
“All right.” Mrs. Gullen clapped her hands. “We are not investigators to ask questions. When you have time at recess, go to the office to talk to the detectives. They and Vera’s parents will be very grateful for your help.”
“I’ll make sure that everyone goes,” Jane said. Corby knew that the girl was looking at her, but she didn’t turn. She thought that if she looked into Jane’s eyes, she would figure out everything. And the police? Were they going to ask her questions again? She had said everything already! Why didn’t she take her mother’s pills that could make her calm down? Of course, they would make her sleepy and she couldn’t let that happen. She wanted to look at Jacob and determine his reaction. Did he wonder where Vera went? Did he want to know what she said to Corby? She was the one who had seen her last. What would he think if he knew what really happened to her?”
She sighed and started her test. The teacher handed out questions and explained that they would be able to finish everything during their next class, because they started late.
CHAPTER 9
Corby came to the shop as usual, ten minutes before closing. There were only two people inside and Corby didn’t even notice who they were while she walked to the back room. She took off her coat and sat on the couch in a small break room where they had a fridge, a microwave, and a kettle. She took her phone out and began to search for information on the Internet. She wanted to find something about Vera. Something had to be out already, some hypotheses. She found a few articles and references to her older sister’s Facebook page. Facebook looked interesting and Corby went there to consider a small number of photos that were available to the public. Vera didn’t appear in photos often, only a couple of times, and the last photo was just a portrait of her without her sisters or anyone else, with a post pleading to share it as much as possible. Corby read that the police and the family were doing everything possible to find Vera, but they needed help. One of the articles on FB said that she was seen the next day at the North End. Please, Vera, come back home. We love you very much.
“North End?” Corby chuckled. “Idiots. If she came back to life, climbed out of the fridge, and didn’t …”
“Hi, Corby.”
“Ah ... Hi.” Corby hastily closed the browser although Gaby wouldn’t see anything. Gaby took off her jacket and hung it on a hanger, smoothed her short hair, and left the room. After a few seconds Corby heard the rattle of buckets being moved and hoped she had washed all the blood from the mop.
“Corby?”
Gaby appeared in the doorway, pushing a bucket on wheels, holding the mop.
“Yes.” Corby swallowed the lump in her throat.
“Did you wash the floor over the weekend?”
“No. Is something wrong?”
“I guess not.” Gaby frowned and went on, pushing the bucket with her foot.
Corby exhaled and put the phone on her knees. Did she have to always be scared now and expect the worst? All because of Vera. She was scared to go to school before because she could be bullied. Now she was scared to live because she could go to jail. Neither of these fears was better or worse, she wanted to get rid of both of them. The question was how?
She remembered her conversation with Sylvia and Jane at school that day. They had approached Corby during the break along with a couple of girls who probably hoped to claim Vera’s place, if she didn’t come back. Corby knew that she wasn’t going to come back, but she couldn’t talk about it. When they came closer, Corby looked up and saw Jacob behind them. He paused for a moment, his eyes met Corby’s, and then he raised his thumb up for some reason and left, adjusting the heavy backpack on his shoulder.
“So, you were the last to see Vera?” Jane asked.
Corby knew she should act as always if she didn’t want to arouse suspicion, but at the same time she couldn’t keep quiet because the situation demanded an answer.
“I didn’t know I was the last to see Vera,” Corby said.
“What did she do? Did she talk to anyone? Can you help somehow? Can you be useful for once?” Jane said.
Corby suddenly found herself squeezing her hands into fists. To her own surprise, she began to feel anger. Jane had no right to say such things. How did she know if Corby was useful or not? She was useful, all right. She rid society of Vera. Maybe by coincidence, but she did it.
“Speak up. Tell us what you know,”
Sylvia said. “We have to go and talk to the detectives before the break is over.”
“I’ll tell everything I know to the detectives,” Corby said and almost choked with fear. She had opposed Sylvia and Jane!
“What did you say?” Jane asked in disbelief. “You talk when we tell you to talk. Clear?”
Corby nodded.
“I don’t want to hear anything like this again. Answer now.” Jane demanded.
“Answer what?” Corby asked.
“Are you kidding?” Sylvia’s eyes bulged and she put her hands on her hips. “Are you a joker now?”
“Are you trying to make fun of us, Mackentile?” Jane raised her eyebrows.
Corby shook her head again.
“She wouldn’t dare,” Jane snorted. “Tell me. Why did Vera come to your store?”
Corby decided that simple and honest answers would be the best.
“She just picked up her order, paid, and left. That’s all. I locked the door and haven’t seen her since.”
“Crazy.” Jane shook her head. “She didn’t say anything about meeting someone? Only why would she tell you about it? Who are you?”
“There are so many people in that area all the time,” one of the girls, redhead Karen said. “Where could she go?”
“Did you think about cars?” Jane rolled her eyes. She always knew everything better than anyone. “Someone could have grabbed her and shoved her in the car in two seconds and no one would have noticed.”
“My mom said the police suspect her dad,” Sylvia said.
“TMI,” Jane interrupted and grabbed Corby’s arm. “Let’s go, Mackentile. Tell them everything you know.”
And Corby told them everything. Actually, she told the same detectives the same story she had told them before. The same story she told Jane. Word for word, without stuttering. This time her hands didn’t tremble and didn’t try to betray her. Repetition made her feel more confident. The detectives asked again what kind of relationship she and Vera had and she replied that they were not friends. That was all. Jane and Sylvia were friends with Vera. After that, it seemed the detectives lost interest in her and sent her back to her classroom. Then they invited Jane.
Mean girl_A dark, disturbing psychological thriller Page 6
