Dare You to Lie

by Amber Lynn Natusch

  My dad was nearly arrested showing Sheriff Higgins exactly what he thought of that rationale.

  So, knowing I wouldn’t likely get far with the police, I decided to eat shit with a smile and drive home with my new air-conditioning system. Heidi’s had been broken for years, so it wasn’t all bad. At least it wouldn’t be … until winter hit. Hopefully by then I’d have scraped together enough money to pay the deductible on my car insurance and get the windows replaced.

  But first I’d have to find a job.

  I drove through Jasperville, memories floating through my mind. Not all of them were bad. There was Mr. Matthew’s Ice Cream Shop, which my parents used to take me to after my youth league soccer games. The park where Garrett and I always played until it got dark. The vintage movie theater where I’d had my first kiss with Troy Jenkins in the back row. Each place put a smile on my face as I passed it. I hadn’t always resented the town. It had some redeeming qualities, though they seemed to dwindle as I aged.

  Then I drove by an all-too-familiar house, and my stroll down memory lane turned sour. The Millers’ house was a big Victorian on one of the original main streets in town. It was stunningly kept and was equally beautiful inside. I knew because I spent the greater part of my freshman year there. Their son had a thing for petite, feisty, blue-eyed blondes, and I seemed drawn to their prodigy football player, who was so good that he was on the starting varsity squad as a freshman. He was tall and gorgeous, with piercing green eyes framed by long black lashes and shaggy dark hair that never appeared to be “done” but always looked amazing. He was a dream come true.

  Until the day he wasn’t.

  Before my mind could wander too far down that dark path, I gathered that particular memory up, crumpled it into a tight ball, and stuffed it away in my brain where it wouldn’t easily be found again. After two and a half years, it still hurt too much to think about what he’d done. The knowledge that I would eventually cross paths with him at school was almost more than I could bear. Thankfully for me, I hadn’t seen him that day.

  But I knew that luck wouldn’t last forever.

  As if the universe wanted to remind me that I didn’t have any luck to start with, the gas light in my car came on. With a heavy sigh, I continued down the street to one of only three gas stations in town. When it had first opened, it was a small convenience store. Now it was an absolute monstrosity that boasted a fast-food chain inside. Just what Jasperville needed.

  I pulled into the lot and rolled up to the only open pump. Once I located my wallet inside my bag, I found I only had twenty-three dollars. I frowned, knowing that was all I had to get me through the week. My lunchtime options were going to get iffy by Friday.

  I took fifteen bucks out before tucking my wallet back into my bag. Food was optional. Taking the bus to school, however, was not; Gramps had been adamant about that. He knew it was just a sunny-colored mobile prison and could be equally brutal. I was all too amenable to his no-bus demands. Money spent on gas was a damn good investment, as far as I was concerned.

  Once I finished pumping the gas, I walked over to the mammoth building to pay for it. When I opened the door to enter, I almost slammed into a woman hurrying out. She looked up at me only seconds before we would have collided, and she startled to a halt.

  “I’m so sorry!” she said before her sharp eyes focused on precisely whom she’d almost barreled over. As soon as she realized who I was, she smiled. It was a huge, toothy smile that I’d known for the better part of my life. Meg was my mother’s best friend, and probably the only person in Jasperville County that still cared about her, other than Gramps and me.

  “Geez, lady! How about you pull your head out of your tight ass and watch where you’re going,” I said, returning her smile.

  “Because I like my head up my ass. It’s a better view than the one I have now.”

  With that snappy retort, she threw her arms around me and pulled me tight against her. Meg had never had any kids—never married, for that matter, either. She’d been the crazy aunt I’d never had by blood, and some of my most outrageous memories involved her.

  Ones I would never tell my mother about.

  “How are you, Ky?” she asked, ushering me back outside the building so we could talk. “I’m working on a crazy case right now and haven’t had a chance to come by and see you. Have you settled in?”

  “Yeah. As much as I can.”

  “And your mom?”

  I cringed at the question, not really knowing where to begin. How to tell her that my mom and dad fell apart during his trial—that her desperate need to be the center of attention had driven her into the arms of someone else. Someone in California. Meg didn’t want to know that my mom totally bailed one week after my father’s sentence was handed down. But it turned out that I didn’t have to say anything at all. Her lawyerly instincts took over, and she filtered my answer to find out what I hadn’t said.

  “Where is she, Ky?”

  “California … with Frank the engineer.”

  She muttered a string of swears under her breath before composing herself.

  “How long has that been going on?”

  “Longer than I’d like to know, I imagine.”

  Meg nodded, her expression tight.

  “Does Gramps know?”

  “Yes, but he doesn’t talk about it. He still tries to shelter me from it as best he can.”

  She looked thoughtful for a moment before replying. “Gramps is the best.”

  “He really is.”

  “So, tell me about school. How’s it going?” My lack of immediate response told her all she needed to know. “You’re miserable, aren’t you?” I nodded. “Ugh. I’m so sorry, Ky.”

  “My dismay at being in this town isn’t your honor to claim, I’m afraid. No need to be sorry.”

  “Damn, girl … that smart mouth of yours has only gotten worse, hasn’t it?”

  “’Fraid so.”

  Her eyes twinkled with delight.

  “I couldn’t be prouder.” She glanced down at her watch and frowned. “I’m sorry to do this, Ky, but I have to run. I have a meeting in twenty minutes. Are you doing all right otherwise? Do you need anything?”

  “Other than a transfer to another high school and a job, no. I’m good.”

  She laughed—a knowing, bitter laugh that let me know that maybe Meg hadn’t enjoyed high school any more than I did.

  “I can’t help with the school BS, but I might be able to help with the job. We need a part-time assistant at the office. You’d be a glorified gopher, but if you don’t mind coffee runs and filing, it would be a great gig. Pays a hell of a lot better than working at a place like this.” She jerked her thumb to the massive building behind me and laughed.

  “That’d be really great, Meg. Thanks.”

  “Sure thing, kid. Come by some time this week and I’ll show you around. We can get the paperwork started then.”

  “I really appreciate it. I’ll see you soon.”

  She looked me over once more, then gave me a goodbye hug. I could see the tears welling in her eyes as she let me go and walked away without a word. Meg was more worried about my mom and me than she wanted to let on.

  After I gassed up, instead of heading straight down Church Street, I veered off onto the exit ramp and headed east to Logan Hill Prison. I hadn’t had a chance to actually see my dad since he was incarcerated—we only talked a couple of times on the phone—so I was excited to finally get the chance. And terrified, too.

  The thirty-minute drive went by quickly, and my anticipation grew with every mile. I was familiar with the prison because Gramps had worked there as a correctional officer as long as I could remember. Now past his prime, he worked in a less stressful part of the facility, but he was still dealing with convicts on a daily basis. Gramps was the kind of guy that everyone just liked. I assumed the people imprisoned in Logan Hill weren’t any different in that regard. For whatever reason, they never seemed to give him any trouble—o
r at least none that he ever let on about.

  I parked in visitor parking and went through all the necessary steps to gain access not only to the building but also, eventually, my father. Security took a while to get through. By the time they had things all sorted to their liking, I was brought—sans backpack—to the visiting area. It was just like I’d seen in movies: a long line of cubbies, each separated by a thick piece of Plexiglas, and phones hanging on the wall of each cubicle. An officer escorted me to a chair, and a minute later my father was brought in.

  The initial shock of seeing him was hard to get past. It was also hard to mask my expression. Wearing his orange jumpsuit, with two guards leading him toward me, reality set in. He was really in prison.

  He wasn’t coming home.

  Under the circumstances, I expected to see a change in him. A tiredness. Resignation. But none of those things had tarnished him yet. Instead, he stood tall and proud, his sturdy frame still holding strong against his situation. Even the black ring around his eye didn’t faze him. But it sure as hell worried me.

  When he sat down across from me, he gave me the smile he always did. The one that begged mischief to find us. Judging by the size of that shiner and the way my day had gone, mischief already had. I picked up the phone beside me, and he mirrored the gesture, putting the receiver to his ear.

  “Hi, Daddy.”

  “How’s my girl? How was school? Was today your first day back?” I nodded. “That good, huh?” His expression darkened. “I guess two and a half years away wasn’t long enough. I’m so sorry, baby girl. I wish there was a way to fix this for you.”

  “As if I need your help,” I said, feigning annoyance. “I owned that place from the second I walked in.”

  “Kinda like I did?” he countered. His sarcasm was duly noted.

  “With less punching, yes. Probably a lot like that. But I did manage to come out of it with only two threats of bodily harm and no front windows in my car, so I think I won.”

  Without skipping a beat, his interrogation began.

  “Who threatened you?”

  “Some girl in my gym class who was just being a bitch. Technically she threatened the girl next to me, but I took it personally.”

  “Who else?” he asked. I sighed, not really wanting to tell him who it was. That would only lead to deeper questions I didn’t feel like answering. I should have kept my damn mouth shut about it in the first place.

  “Donovan Shipman. You remember him?”

  My dad’s face flushed with anger.

  “Threatened how?”

  “Long story short, he wants to kick my ass because I wouldn’t let him kick his girlfriend’s.”

  His eyes widened as he exhaled heavily, leaning back in his chair.

  “Kylene, that’s serious stuff. I don’t want you messing around with him directly. You need to go to Principal Thompson. If you know for a fact that’s going on, someone needs to protect that girl. Her parents need to be brought in. His too. Possibly Sheriff Higgins, if there’s physical proof—not that he’d know what to do with it.…”

  “There is proof. I saw four striped bruises on her arms. But she’s in love. It’s a classic case of emotional abuse, low self-esteem—the total package.”

  “I want you to listen to me, Kylene. This girl needs help, but she needs an army of it, not an army of you, understand? I don’t want you confronting him again.”

  “No problem there. You should see him now—he is jacked. Like huge.”

  “Then what were you thinking, going after someone like that, Ky?”

  “I couldn’t just watch him go after her, Dad. He had her pinned in the cab of his truck. I heard her cry out even with the windows shut. She’s small and weak and scared. What was I supposed to do?”

  “Call for help?”

  “There were four other football players standing around doing nothing. I was the only cavalry.”

  “You were in over your head, kiddo.”

  “Right, but at least I’m trained, thanks to you and Kru Tyson.”

  “Not for a fight with someone that big.” He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the counter, his eyes practically burning holes in the glass between us. “I think it’s best if you just steer clear of him, okay?”

  “Okay, Dad.”

  “That’s my girl. Now tell me something far less frightening about your day.”

  I grimaced dramatically, forcing a laugh from my father.

  “I made a new friend. I did it in the most unconventional way possible, but I did it. She’s new—Canadian, witty, a bit socially awkward—and a whiz with the academic stuff.”

  “An asset.”

  “Exactly. And she helped save my ass from Donovan by taking a photo or video of him as he was threatening me. She emailed it to herself before he could get to her phone.”

  “Quick on her feet,” my father mused. “She’s a keeper.”

  “Yep. Totally.”

  “Well, that’s good. Anything else?”

  “I saw Garrett.…”

  My father’s expression became instantly sympathetic. It was clear that he didn’t quite know what to say to that. He’d known how close we were. He didn’t understand why we’d drifted apart. Obviously he was aware that I wanted to distance myself from all things that reminded me of Jasperville, but he knew how much I loved Garrett. I think he assumed Garrett would be the exception.

  “How is young Mr. Higgins?”

  I smiled.

  “Amazing. It was so great to see him, Dad. It’s like we were never apart.”

  “Just fell back into your old roles?”

  “Exactly!”

  “Those are the good ones, Kylene. Friends like those are the kind you have for life.”

  “I literally ran into him leaving the front office.”

  “Tell me he isn’t getting sent to Principal Thompson this early in the year.”

  “I have no clue,” I said, and laughed. “He was so derailed when he saw me that he just walked out.”

  “Well, I’m glad you have a couple friendly faces at school to count on.”

  “I do. No worries there.” My laughter died off as I wondered about my dad’s situation—if he had any friendlies to count on yet. “How about you? How are you making out?”

  “Pretty well.”

  I wanted to believe him. Wanted to hold tight to the notion that we didn’t have to talk about what was so plainly going on. That we wouldn’t have to talk about his trial, or the fact that Mom was gone, or that the bruise on his face meant that he had been put in with the general population. Because if we did talk about those things, it made them more real. And I needed to pretend they weren’t, sometimes. All the time, if I could muster that level of denial.

  I took a deep breath, then faced reality. “Your shiner says otherwise, Dad. Let’s not pretend I can’t see it.”

  He leaned back away from the window again, as if the extra few feet would somehow minimize the mark on his face or the danger it represented.

  “It seems as though there’s been a mix-up with my paperwork. Until it’s resolved, I’ll be in with the general population.”

  Gen pop … I swallowed hard at the thought.

  “Mix-up, my ass, Dad! Someone is trying to get to you!”

  “Kylene, now is not the time for an overactive imagination.”

  “Don’t patronize me. I’m not being ridiculous right now, and you know it!”

  “It’s a clerical error. They happen all the time. I should be good to go in a day or so.”

  My heart hammered against my chest. He was putting up a good front—a great one, in fact—but I knew it was all an act for my benefit. He didn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth any more than I did. He was worried. I wanted so much in that moment to be brave, to live the lie right along with him, but my fear wouldn’t let me. Instead, it penetrated my defenses, letting my terror bleed through to the surface. If my pale, slack expression hadn’t been enough to alert my father to my
state, the tears forming in my eyes were.

  “It’s my fault, Daddy. I should have lied. It’s all my fault—”

  “Kylene Marie Danners, you listen to me right now,” he said, standing to lean forward until his face nearly pressed the glass. “None of this is your fault, do you understand? None of it. Whatever happens from here on out, I need you to know that.”

  “Sit down, Danners!” a guard shouted from the far side of the room. When my father didn’t comply, too all consumed with getting through to me, the officer approached. “I said, sit down!”

  “Daddy,” I cried. “Sit down. Please.”

  “Say you understand.”

  “I understand! I understand! Now sit down!”

  My father sat just before the guard reached him and put his baton back into his belt. I exhaled heavily, wiping the tears from my face.

  “Time’s up, Danners,” the guard said, hauling my father up from the seat he’d just sat down in.

  “I’ll come see you tomorrow, if I can. After school.”

  “I’d like that,” he replied with a smile.

  The guard grabbed the phone from my father, slamming it down in the cradle.

  “I love you!” I yelled, hoping that maybe he’d understand. When he mouthed the words back, I knew he did.

  I watched as he disappeared, my heart in my throat. I wondered what shape he would be in when I came to visit him the next day. I wondered if his paperwork would be found and filed. Then I wondered if it would matter at all.

  There was no need to separate him from the real criminals in Logan Hill if he was dead.

  With that grim truth firmly planted in my mind, I made my way out of Logan Hill Prison and back to my car. Heidi looked like I felt. Shattered and broken.

  Losing my dad wasn’t an option. Not by a long shot. In light of that knowledge, I made a call on my phone, then sped down the road. I needed to meet with someone who could help me get started with my investigation. I needed my dad’s old partner.