Dead Girls Don't Keep Secrets

by Ames B Winterbourne

  “Oh, yeah, I’ll be fine.” That’s something I don’t believe.

  “Ryder, maybe you should slow down a bit?” I know it isn’t the smartest thing to say, but he’s breaking at least a dozen traffic laws.

  “I’m good.” He continues to rage at the road.

  I think about how minutes ago, when I kissed him, he calmed down. I suck my bottom lip into my mouth. I can still taste him.

  After a minute, he sighs and says, “Listen, Lake, I’ll be fine. I’ll behave while we’re interrogating my father.”

  “That’s the thing. I don’t think interrogating the sheriff is going to go well. I mean, think about it. We go in there and what? Demand to know about him and Felicia? Do you even think he’d talk to us? He’d probably get mad and jail me or something.”

  “That is a possibility. Do you have any other thoughts on what we can do?”

  Truth be told, I don’t have any ideas. I just know it isn’t a good idea to blurt out what we’re doing to the sheriff, of all people. He was involved with Felicia. If we state our motive and ask him what he knows about her, I doubt he’ll tell us anything.

  “You said you were good at snooping … that’s why Felicia approached you in the first place, right? Why don’t we just do that?”

  “I don’t know, castrating my father sounds good, too,” he says and makes another sharp turn.

  “Let’s just keep things cool. We don’t need to make any enemies right now or let on that we know anything, especially if your father is involved. Think about it for a moment. It wouldn’t be good if the sheriff knew we were on to him. I mean, he could have us arrested to cover his ass … that is, if he did something.”

  “My father is no doubt involved in Felicia’s death. Screwing a teenage girl, who wound up dead, means he’s involved in general. Not to mention, he was your mom’s ex-boyfriend. And their breakup was bad. Like, epically bad. She practically destroyed him by cheating on him and humiliating him. He could have possibly held it against her and then killed her. He’ll probably try and cover it up unless we figure something out.”

  I didn’t know the real reason for the split, but now I feel even worse about my mother. “That’s why we have to behave.”

  For about a minute, we sit in silence. I gaze at Ryder, waiting for him to say something. His eyes quickly glance in my direction before he lets out a shaky breath.

  “Fine, I’ll behave,” he mumbles.

  I know I shouldn’t believe him, but I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt. “Thanks.”

  A siren rings out from behind us, as red and blue flashing lights reflect in the sideview mirror. I groan and turn around to see if I can spot whoever is driving the car. It’s my lucky day. Behind the wheel is none other than the Shady Sheriff himself.

  “Oh, fuck a duck.” I look up and mutter, “Really, universe? You must really hate us.”

  Ryder pulls over to the side of the road and puts the car in park. I close my eyes and pray I’m seeing things and that it isn’t Ryder’s father behind us. Maybe it’s actually a cute little sloth playing dress up as a copper. Then again, sloths can’t drive cars. It’s hopeless.

  “Just stay calm,” Ryder says.

  “You should take your own advice.”

  He hangs his head. “Yeah, you’re right. Only—” The sheriff taps on Ryder’s window. Ryder’s head pops up. “He doesn’t deserve it.”

  Ryder rolls down his window and tries to feign a smile for his father. The sheriff doesn’t look at all pleased to see his son. He looks like he just swallowed a ton of Imodium and hasn’t crapped in days.

  “Going a little fast there, son,” the sheriff says. When his eyes find mine, they darken. “Lake.” He nods his head in my direction.

  “Sheriff Frost.” I attempt to sound calm, but there’s an edge to my voice that I can’t mask.

  He continues to eye me for another moment before turning back to Ryder. “I didn’t know you two were friends.” He sounds like he’s accusing Ryder of a horrendous crime by having me sit beside him.

  “Actually, Dad, we’re more than friends. We’re dating.” Ryder’s teeth flash at his father.

  It’s definitely not what the sheriff wanted to hear. His nostrils flare, and I expect hot steam to blow out of them like a cartoon character.

  “You’re dating? Since when?”

  “Since Wednesday. Not that it’s any of your business,” I say.

  The sheriff looks us over as though, if he looks close enough, he’ll see through our façade. “You were going a little fast there. Where are you headed?”

  It’s a definite understatement. Ryder stays silent.

  The sheriff looks almost nothing like Ryder. Not even their eyes match. The only thing I think they have in common is their stubbornness to not back down.

  Ryder glances in my direction. It seems like he’s done talking to his father. From the way his eyes implore mine, I guess that, even though he drove like a man on a mission, he was just winging it and didn’t have a plan. I have to come up with something.

  “Well?”

  I clear my throat. “Ryder was taking me in, to discuss whatever you came to my house for the other day.”

  “Does your father know about this?”

  “I’m eighteen, Sheriff. I can speak for myself, even if my father doesn’t want me to.” Though I do hate the thought of being alone with this man, it’s the only excuse I can muster up.

  “Well, then …” The smug smile splits his face, making me want to claw his eyes out. I’m shocked I haven’t actually acted on any of my aggression in the last few days. Though I’m a lover, not a fighter, and only claimed to want to punch out Ryder, I can’t help but clench and unclench my fists at the sight of this guy. He’s an asshole, and knowing he could be involved in two murders, not to mention turning him in to the authorities, makes me giddy. His eyes turn from mine to Ryder’s. “I’ll meet you there. Drive carefully. Your mother would be worried to death if she saw how reckless you were driving.”

  “Funny that you would care how Mom feels,” Ryder says loud enough for the sheriff to hear, but quiet enough to make it seem like he’s just murmuring.

  The sheriff’s forehead wrinkles in confusion. I guess Ryder rarely talks back to his dad. “Did you say something?”

  “I didn’t say anything, sir.” Ryder doesn’t even glance in his father’s direction again.

  “Just be careful. I’d hate to give my own son a ticket. And don’t call me sir. It makes me sound old.” He gives his son a small smile, as though trying to make a joke, but Ryder doesn’t laugh. The sheriff just sighs and stalks back to his cruiser.

  Ryder rolls up his window. His eyes are icy as he turns on me. “Are you crazy?”

  “What?” He’s mad at me? He almost gave us away with that attitude, but I’m the bad guy?

  “What the hell do you think you’re going to tell them, Lake?” he says as he drives toward the station.

  “You didn’t say anything. You just drove like a lunatic without a freaking plan! And then you gave me those sad little puppy eyes like you wanted me to come up with something. So, I did.”

  “I was thinking. I didn’t mean for you to talk. We could have just said I forgot something in his office. I normally leave my bag in there when I work. Now, he’s actually going to question you. Do you even know what you’re going to tell him?”

  “So, you’re saying I jumped the gun?” I want to throw up.

  “Yes.”

  “Fuck,” I mutter. “Well, he came to my house to ask me questions about Felicia, for God knows what reason. But I have an alibi for her murder. I was at home with my dad watching an anime.”

  “Your dad, the guy my dad despises and wouldn’t trust with taking out the garbage, is your alibi.” He lets out a cruel laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure that will definitely clear you.” Hi
s words ooze with sarcasm. I don’t appreciate it. “My father is a master at interrogation. He could get anyone to admit anything. This one time, he got Daisy Wallis to admit she illegally had twenty cats living with her. And you know how cat ladies are; they’d never give away how many cats they’re hoarding. He knows exactly how to manipulate anything out of you, even lies. He’ll trick you into telling him everything!”

  “I can make something up. Everyone knows Felicia and I —”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Everyone knows you didn’t talk. But the fact that you both hated each other gives you motive. Not that he’ll outright admit that it’s murder. He’s covering his ass. Probably will frame you or something. The fact that she made your life a living hell would even give your father motive to kill the girl who bullied his daughter. And your aunt was her whore boss. Not to mention, Felicia died like your mom. It’s a warped, fucked-up idea, but it is possible.”

  “If I’m such a big suspect, why are you even helping me with this investigation? How can you trust me?”

  “I would trust you with my life,” he says without a beat. “I don’t believe for a second you would kill Felicia. You don’t have an evil bone in your body. Not to mention, everything at the moment points to my own father. If anything, he probably thinks you’re the perfect person to pin this on.”

  We pull into the parking lot at the sheriff’s station and park up front. “He’s going to trick you. I know him. He’ll do anything to protect himself.”

  A cruiser pulls up next to us with its flashing lights on. I watch as Mike gets out of the car and pulls out a young teenage boy. Everyone is familiar in this small town, but I don’t bother to learn anyone’s name. I recall that he’s a bag boy at the market. The kid looks like your average stoner. With a beanie and bloodshot eyes, he was probably smoking up before work.

  Ryder’s eyes widen as something dawns on him. “I think I know that kid.”

  “He works at the grocery store—”

  “No … that’s not it.” Then, a Cheshire Cat grin spreads across his face. “Okay, here’s the plan. When the fire alarm goes off, I’ll come to you. Okay?”

  “Alarm?” I can only imagine what he’s thinking, and it isn’t good.

  “Just do as I say,” he insists.

  “Ryder—”

  He unbuckles his seatbelt and beams at me. Before I can say another word, Ryder grabs ahold of my hand, forcing me to face him. Then, his lips collide with mine. It isn’t a soft kiss, or even something I can bask in. I’m caught completely off guard. I don’t even have time to react before he pulls away. We’re both breathless.

  “What was that for?” I pant.

  “I needed a little adrenaline rush before we go in there.” His smile makes him look like that cocky guy I’ve always known and hated. I’m stunned that my normal disgust for him doesn’t present itself.

  “That wasn’t the best second kiss,” I say. “You’re a bastard.”

  “You have no idea.” He bites his lip like a giddy little schoolgirl who’s just done something naughty. For once, I don’t feel like smacking the shit out of his face. Instead, I’m lost in his mischievous silver eyes. “What are you looking at?”

  I shake my head, hoping I’m not pathetic enough to give myself away. I feel dizzy, like the one time I got drunk on New Year’s Eve. I just hope I won’t vomit all over myself and shake my fist at the toilet, shouting, “Bless you to heaven, Satan!” You know, because what’s Satan’s worst nightmare? Heaven. Instead, I say, “Nothing.”

  Though Ryder has been my enemy for years, I’ve forgotten that I crushed on him when we were younger. After that, I vowed never to look at him that way again. I know if I stood before my eleven-year-old self, she’d kick me in the shin, tell me I’m a traitor, then run like hell before older me could do anything about it.

  Just as we step out of the car, the sheriff’s cruiser parks a few feet away from us. I never really paid attention to the sheriff much, but it’s easy to see he has an air of superiority in his step that would repulse anyone. Not even his handsome face makes up for it. Yes, the sheriff is handsome, with his light olive complexion, dark hair, and even darker eyes.

  Ryder has so much animosity toward his father, I know there has to be more to it than the douche being a perv and cheating on his mother.

  Ryder waltzes up beside me and takes my hand in his. Though he’s attempting to embody someone with resting bitch face, his sweaty palms betray him. I instinctively give his hand a reassuring squeeze. His dad has stopped by the door and is holding it open for us. His eyes train on our interlinked fingers. I don’t like the way the man looks at me, let alone the stink eye he’s giving his son.

  Ryder stops a few feet from the door and pulls on my arm, forcing me to face him directly.

  “Just wait for me,” he says in a low voice.

  “Okay.” I have no idea what he’s planning, and I’m shocked I agreed to blindly trust him.

  We follow the sheriff past the front desk and toward the back area of the station. It’s crowded with desks, and a few deputies hang around the water cooler, but no one seems to notice us. I notice two cells off to the side, which I doubt are often used. Not even by the young teenager sitting near one. He’s sitting on a bench next to the cells with his hands cuffed. He has this bored expression on his face that makes me feel like he’s used to this. The sheriff leads us to the back, where there are three doors. One has a sign on it that says, Sheriff Frost. I don’t know what the other two are for. I assume they’re interrogation rooms or something. Once we get to the back, the sheriff says, “Ryder, why don’t you wait in my office.”

  “Yes, sir.” His father flinches, but his hurt doesn’t last long because, when he turns to me, his lips curl in disgust.

  “Follow me, Lake.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Ryder veering toward the bench where the young teenager sits.

  I turn back to the sheriff and follow him into the interrogation room. The door slams behind me, and I jump. It’s definitely a scare tactic, and I’m falling for it. He points toward one of the two chairs that sit around a wooden table.

  The room looks comfortable, with a light oak table and chairs with green padded cushions that match the forest-colored carpet. There’s a tinted glass mirror spread across the right wall, and I note a camera on the ceiling, aimed at the table. A recorder sits on the table, just waiting to catch me saying something incriminating. I expected a room like you see on Law & Order: SVU, full of gray steel that gives off a cold vibe. But this is comfier and homey. Even the temperature in the room is just warm enough not to make someone sweat. He points to the table, and I take a seat.

  The sheriff’s leaning against the door, trapping me in. For a moment, we’re silent before he pushes off the door and takes the seat opposite of me. Moments ago, he looked like he was disgusted with my very presence. Now, he just looks on at me with indifference.

  “So, Lake, can I get you a glass of water or anything?” His tone is soft. I suppose it’s a way to enchant me and make me feel calm. It does the exact opposite.

  “No.” My voice is hard. “Why don’t we get this over with?”

  He graces me with a Cheshire Cat grin. There it is. Though Ryder doesn’t look anything like him, that expression is definitely something Ryder picked up.

  “Okay, then let’s get to it. Why don’t you tell me about your relationship with your aunt.”

  “My aunt?” Oh shit, this is definitely not what I thought this was going to be about. “What about my aunt?”

  “Have you ever worked at her bed and breakfast before?”

  “Only once or twice. I don’t really do much, though. My dad wants me to focus on school.”

  “And what was your relationship with Felicia?”

  “Felicia?” I laugh. “What about her?”

  “She worked at y
our aunt’s place, right? For a short time?”

  “I don’t know about that,” I say.

  “Have you ever been close with any of the girls who work at your aunt’s establishment?”

  “Not really, I don’t have many friends.”

  “But you’re dating my son?”

  I shrug. “For now.”

  “Are you serious about him?”

  I grimace. “Is this about me and Ryder, or my aunt, or Felicia?”

  “Answer the question, Lake. Did you or did you not go to your aunt’s bed and breakfast the other day with my son?”

  “I did,” I say. “We were introducing him to her. Wanted her approval.”

  “Approval for what, exactly?”

  I don’t know what he’s getting at, but I can’t help but think this definitely has something to do with my aunt’s sketchy side business. “Of our dating.”

  “Felicia worked for your aunt for a short time, but you introduced her to your aunt, didn’t you?”

  “When we were kids, yeah. But Felicia and I weren’t friends for a long time. I had no idea she worked at my aunt’s bed and breakfast. I mean, I didn’t think my aunt would betray me like that.” I know what kind of work he’s referring to, but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction that I know anything.

  “I’m not talking about the bed and breakfast.”

  My eyebrows perk up and I say, “That’s the only business my aunt has.”

  A smug smile spreads across his face. “That’s not the business I’m talking about. And you know it.”

  I shake my head confused. “I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Lying to the cops isn’t smart, Lake.”

  “I really have no idea—”

  “So, you’re telling me you don’t know that your aunt prostitutes young girls.”

  I gasp in shock. “No way.”

  “Lake—”

  “I mean it, Sheriff. I have no idea what your talking about.”

  “I think you do, and I think whatever Felicia did to betray you made you want to harm her.”

  “Felicia and I didn’t get along but I wouldn’t harm her.”