Dead Girls Don't Keep Secrets

by Ames B Winterbourne

  “I love your mother, Ryder, don’t think that I don’t. I’m not perfect, but I never slept around. That’s a lie.” The sheriff sounds sad and full of regret.

  “You slept with Felicia, my sister. You knew she was my sister.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “It’s a little too late to claim Felicia’s not my sister,” Ryder states.

  The sheriff sighs. “I didn’t sleep with her or any of those girls. Sure, I propositioned her, but not in a sexual manner. Felicia called me the Shady Sheriff, right? That’s what Lake said when I interrogated her. That was not because I was sleeping with her. Felicia was a prostitute, a young one, and the Feds were investigating a possible human trafficking ring in town. They couldn’t get the goods on Dorothy, so they asked me for help. We got the word out that the sheriff was interested in finding some comfort. I dealt with five different girls, but only Felicia agreed to help. She ended up feeding me information on Dorothy, and the bed and breakfast was raided the night you were shot. That’s why I didn’t follow you like I wanted to, but when I heard there was a shooting at the mayor’s place, I left the Feds before the SWAT could do anything and got to you as soon as I could.”

  “Mike told Lake you were sleeping with Felicia.”

  “He didn’t know about the raid. I couldn’t trust him, not entirely. He’d gotten drunk one night about a month ago and told me Felicia was trying to blackmail me. That I was a sick old man. That’s how I knew Felicia had been feeding me false information. I realized I couldn’t let him know anything since he might reveal too much to her. You see, to get Felicia to be my informant, I had to threaten to expose every little secret she had on everyone she was blackmailing.”

  “If you knew all of this, why did you claim her murder was a suicide? Why question Lake about all of it?”

  “I had to prioritize Dorothy since I knew the mayor was involved with her. I figured if I could take Dorothy down, and him, I could take him down for May’s death and Felicia’s. I questioned Lake that way because I truly didn’t know if she knew about her aunt, and some of the girls went to high school with her. It was just a procedure that had to be done.”

  Ryder’s quiet for a moment, but then says, “Felicia said you were screwing all these whores. She took pictures.”

  “It was a lie. She was angry with me meddling with her business. I never slept with any of them. I only ever propositioned the girls to get inside information, but no one was talking, and I wasn’t interested. Not until Jessica accidentally let slip that Lake may have convinced Felicia to join her aunt. Then we approached another girl, some Marcie, and she opened her mouth, defending Lake and implicating Felicia. That’s when we got Dorothy. I never slept with those women, I swear, Ryder.”

  “You never cheated on Mom?”

  “I love your mother. I could never do that. If I ever cheated, it was with my work,” he says.

  I can’t imagine what’s going through Ryder’s head right now. Does he believe his dad? Is the sheriff even telling the truth? What the sheriff’s saying makes sense. If anyone knew what Felicia was up to, she’d probably try and get something more on them. Little did anyone expect she’d find out about something that would get her killed.

  “Why should I believe you?” Ryder asks.

  “Though I want you to believe me, I know you don’t trust me. But I had to tell you the truth.”

  For a minute, there’s only silence.

  “Okay, Dad,” Ryder finally says.

  “Excuse me, are you looking for someone?” A nurse comes up from behind me and I jump. She has a theater voice, stupidly loud and deafeningly beautiful. Someone my drama teacher would have adored. I instantly don’t like her, especially because she’s revealed I’m here.

  “No, I—” I try to keep my voice down, but before I can shoo her away, the door opens all the way and the sheriff stands there, glaring at me as though he expected this.

  “Hi, Sheriff.” I try to keep my voice steady. I gulp in fear.

  “Lake.” He gives me a curt nod and walks past me down the hall.

  I sigh in relief. That went better than I expected. I take a moment before I walk in. I need to be strong but calm, cool, and collected. It’s what the therapist I saw this morning said. I take a deep breath before I say to myself, fuck the psychobabble, and walk in. Ryder’s hooked up to some machines, while his leg stays elevated on top of a bunch of pillows. It’s in a dark gray cast. His hair’s a mess, sticking up in every direction, his eyes have dark circles under them, and he probably hasn’t had a real bath since Saturday morning, but he doesn’t smell. Even though he looks like crap, he’s still hot.

  “Took you long enough.” He gives me a sweet smile, dimples out and all.

  I give him the sassiest expression I can muster. “FYI, I was in the hospital, too.”

  “I know. I was attempting to give you a hard time, and yet you ruined it.” He pouts for a moment before he says, “Are they discharging you?”

  “Yeah. But before I left, I came to tell you something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Well, you really did help me a lot. I don’t think I ever would have found anything out if it wasn’t for your help.”

  “Nah, I think you would have. You just would have had to seduce Jessica.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

  I stick my tongue out in disgust. From what I’ve heard, the bitch is also at the hospital, in a separate wing, of course, and chained to her bed. “I don’t think I was equipped for that.”

  “I don’t think I would have liked to share you,” he says.

  I roll my eyes and fold my arms across my chest. “I’m not your property.”

  “I’m just saying that if it comes down to it, I’ll fight any mayor, or jealous bestie there is, to save you.”

  I’m overwhelmed with an emotion I’ve never experienced before. That’s a lie. I experienced this when I was ten and was told that Ryder wanted to give me a gift.

  I feel awkward and don’t know how to respond, so I just stammer, “Oh, okay.”

  He chuckles at my response. “So, what brings you here, Lake?”

  I attempt to stand up taller, as though I’m going to be deadly serious. “It’s about your payment. You know, that date I promised you.”

  His smile falters. “Right, my single date.”

  “Yeah.” I don’t like that he looks so put out by it. “I kind of have to refuse.”

  “I had a feeling you would say that,” he says dejectedly.

  “I don’t want a single date with you, Ryder.”

  “Yeah, I got that.”

  “I …” My nerves are getting the better of me. “I want more dates with you,” I stammer. “I—I want to spend more time getting to know you. I …” I stop myself and murmur in a quiet voice, “Kind of, sort of like you.”

  “What?”

  I whisper a little louder. “I said I kind of, sort of like you.”

  “Sorry, this injury has made my hearing bad. Can you speak up? You know, shouting would be more appropriate.”

  “I like you, you asshat!” I bellow. “There. Happy? Now the whole entire hospital knows that I like you.”

  I hear a few snickers from the hallway. My cheeks heat.

  His face splits into a merry grin. “Let it be known that, on this day, Lake Lewis confessed she likes me!” He pronounces it so loudly I want to slap him into Tuesday.

  I huff and turn away. “You know what, I take it back.”

  “I’m sorry, no takebacks.” Ryder’s singsong voice is out of tune. I begin to retreat. “But wait, don’t leave yet!”

  I stop and turn to face him. “What?”

  “Well, you like me, right?” He’s making such a cocky face it makes me hate him, even though I don’t hate him at all.

  “Yes …” I know my face is as bright as a toma
to.

  “And you know I like you.”

  “Your point?” The embarrassment’s killing me, but I move closer to his bedside.

  “So, does that mean this fake couple has been upgraded to legit lover status?”

  I want to murder him. “If you’re wondering if you can change your social media status to ‘in a relationship with Lake Lewis,’ you can, but I don’t have any social media accounts other than Twitter, so no one will truly take you seriously.”

  “Not if I convince my girlfriend to send out a mass tweet that she’s in love with me.” He leans his head in my direction until we’re face-to-face.

  “Not in your dreams, Frost,” I say, my eyes zeroed in on his lips. They look soft and thick, and I want to kiss him more than anything in this world. So, I do. I’ve been dehydrated and know my lips are probably cracked, but his are slightly wet and they soothe mine. The kiss lasts for just a moment, but it feels like an eternity before he pulls an inch away.

  “Damn, you kiss good,” he mutters against my lips.

  “I kiss well,” I correct, all breathy.

  “So straightlaced,” he teases.

  “Just grammatically correct.” I nibble on my lip and back up a step. Then I say, “When do you get out of the hospital?”

  “They said maybe a week,” he says. “You know, I was shot.”

  “I’m aware,” I say. “I’m grounded, but my dad told me we can have at least one real date since you helped me unmask the killer.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, so he told me that visiting you today was our date.”

  “What!”

  My phone buzzes, and I take a step back. “Oh, that’s my dad. He’s in the car waiting for me.”

  “Wait? Are you seriously going to leave me hanging? That was our date?” He’s raging mad.

  I let out a chuckle. “We are going to the same college. We’ll get to spend oodles of time together.”

  “True, but still—”

  “I have to go.”

  I step toward him again and peck his lips, but as I pull away, he grabs ahold of my shirt and his lips are on mine again. At first, it’s just closed mouth, but I decide to torture him by tempting him with a flick of my tongue. He moans and opens his mouth. We kiss for what feels like forever, but it’s only seconds before I pull away. I’m breathless, and so is he. His lips are red and swollen and I smirk at the thought that I did that.

  “I have to go.”

  “Is that it?” His put-out look makes me smile.

  I stop and tap my finger on my chin, like I have to think about it. Then I say, “For now.”

  He boos as I walk out of the room.

  Epilogue

  The tombstone reads: Felicia Craig, Beloved Daughter.

  “They couldn’t come up with anything else, huh?” I sigh. It’s sad, but I don’t know what else to expect.

  Ryder and I are at the cemetery, doing our last little visit before we head off to college. Dad wasn’t too happy when I announced that Ryder and I would not only be going to college together, but sharing an apartment, too, instead of staying in the dorms. Ryder’s dad wasn’t too pleased, either, but we assumed they’d get over it.

  “Well, what did you expect? Did you think they’d also write: whore, blackmailer, and crime solver?” Ryder asks.

  I roll my eyes. “You could have petitioned for something like, dear sister.”

  Ryder still has trouble coming to terms with everything that’s happened. We’ve talked about it sometimes, but after everything we’ve been through, I’m just glad our nightmares aren’t an every-night occurrence. It’s always the same for both of us. Mayor Craig shooting Ryder, me nearly being raped and murdered.

  Some would think we’d need therapy for the rest of our lives, but Ryder told me all he needs is me by his side. I said, “Aw, that’s gross.” He just laughed and then kissed me.

  But we do see therapists. We have to, even though Ryder doesn’t want to. Both of our parents decided together to sit us down and demand it. It’s helping, but it’s still hard to talk about it.

  “I wish that, wherever Felicia is, she knows we got him,” Ryder says with all seriousness.

  I wrap my arms around him and lean in. I hold on to him for a while as we just stare down at her grave.

  “I may have hated her for years, but I have to hand it to Felicia. She came through for me,” I state.

  Though I hated Felicia, I’m grateful she helped me solve the mystery of who killed my mom, and in return, I helped bring her own murderer to justice. I’m also grateful that, because of all of this, I have Ryder. I know it sounds gross, but I really do care for him. All right, I love the jerk-wad, and when I first told him that, he teased me for a week straight.

  “We better hit the road,” Ryder says as he pulls away from me. He kneels down, gazing at her grave for another moment before he takes a rock out of his pocket and places it on her grave. Then he says, “Thanks.” He stands and sighs. “I’ll meet you by the car.”

  I nod as he stalks off to the car that’s packed to the brim with stuff we’ll be furnishing our new apartment with. Living with Ryder is going to be strange, but for the last few months, we’ve been spending a lot of time at my house, and sometimes it’s hard to make sure Dad never catches Ryder sneaking out in the morning.

  I gaze down at the grave. We’ve already visited my mom’s, which isn’t too far from here, and I already cried like a baby. This is our last stop.

  “You know,” I say, even though Felicia can’t hear me. “I really did hate you for the longest time … but I’m thankful for your help. I’m sorry you had to die for everything to come out.” I pause. It’s harder than I thought. “I’m sorry your dad killed you … and that he did it because you were doing something for Ryder and me …” I bite my lip. “You could have told me you loved me. That you were gay. You could have told me, and I would have accepted you. Though I couldn’t return your feelings, I wouldn’t have abandoned you. You were my best friend. I loved you. I know your father’s true motive was to separate us, but you gave in. I get that you wanted his approval for everything, that you thought only he could ever love you … but that wasn’t true.” A single tear rains down my cheek. “I loved you. Maybe it was a sisterly kind of love for me, but I never would have abandoned you. You pushed me away with the thought that you couldn’t let me near you. But at the same time, you wouldn’t let anyone else near me, too. You were a bitch to me for years, but you came through. I just want to thank you.”

  I don’t realize how badly I’m crying until I notice the top of my shirt is damp from tears. “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “Lake! Let’s go!” Ryder shouts.

  “Goodbye, Felicia.” I kneel down and kiss my hand, then press it to her headstone.

  After another moment, I wipe my eyes and head back to the car—where my new life is waiting.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  There are many people that I’d like to thank for helping me make this book possible.

  First, I’d like to thank Jamie Evans and Max for doing a fantastic job editing this book. Their insights helped the story meet its potential.

  I’d like to thank Eileen for doing a thorough proofreading of the story and being one of its first fans.

  I would also like to thank TJM Cover Designs for all their hard work. The book looks wonderful and I’m so pleased with everything you’ve come up with to make this book look amazing.

  Thank you, Ashley, my first teen reader, and Erica who gave me feedback on how teenagers can actually relate to the story.

  Also, thank you, Mikey for your support and suggestions on escalating the drama and making things totally extra.

  I’d also like to thank my dear friends Frank and Nicole for being my big supporters and encouraging me go for it, and publish this book.

  Ther
e are three other people that made an impact on me publishing this novel. Thank you, mom and dad, for always being super supportive of me and my dreams.

  And last but not least, I’d like to thank Jacob, without whom this book would never exist. You have always believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Ames B. Winterbourne is a thirty-something writer who lives in Los Angeles with her high school sweetheart husband and two spoiled kittens. She has a bachelor’s degree in Creative Writing from CSUN and has taken courses at UCLA Extension for fiction. When she’s not writing, she’s either watching The Golden Girls, drinking large quantities of caffeine, reading fantastical romances, or spending time with her family and cats (mostly the cats).