To make it worse, I had no idea if the backpack was in here. River could’ve thrown whatever she used to kill Devin anywhere in the city. But I wasn’t leaving. If anything, this was my first stop.
Seconds passed.
I sifted through broken desk parts, used school supplies, and clay.
The rank odor jammed my nostrils as my stomach did flip-flops. The forensics shows made what I was doing look easy. It wasn’t. I didn’t have the masks or suits to help prolong the search. My brave start to complete this mission was wavering.
After ten minutes had passed, I was done.
As I worked my way through the garbage, I slipped on a trash bag and landed on my back into the school supplies. I rolled onto my side and stood. On my way out, I noticed something in the back of the dumpster tucked away in a corner. A backpack. I scooped it up and looked inside.
Happiness filled me as I recognized the bottle I’d seen in my kitchen thanks to Mom and her love for cooking.
The first time I’d ever tasted a turkey cooked in peanut oil was when I was eleven years old. Devin and her family had come over for Thanksgiving. Devin couldn’t eat the turkey or the dressing.
I checked the bag for a name.
No name. No school work. Only the bottle.
Hoping the police would take what I’d found, I clasped the bag, hopped out of the dumpster and was soon in my car. The bottle was the key. Then a thought occurred to me: have I tampered with possible evidence? Damn. This idea was going nowhere.
I put my foot on the brake, pushed the engine start button and turned on the AC. Was I way off with my concerns about River? Devin told me when I arrived on set that night that the problems had started again. Why hadn’t the police arrested River? Had they already spoken to her and decided there was nothing else to worry about?
My body collapsed against the seat, mulling over reasons not to suspect River. Did I believe that she was responsible for killing Devin? Yes. Do fatal attractions exist? I believed so. When Devin tried blocking her online, River would create another account and start again. Then for River to come at Devin the night she died, it was all too coincidental.
It was hard to forget the horrible things River did to Devin. I remembered the posts—
I grabbed my phone and skimmed the screenshots Devin sent me:
You better break up with James. He doesn’t really want to be with you. He’s with you to make me jealous. Break up with him or else.
I headed over to Scatter and located River’s profile, craving to read any recent posts. One said:
Thinking of Devin’s family. She was a great actress. It’s sad to hear that someone would hurt her on purpose.
I zoomed in on the time: Saturday at 11:52 p.m. Shared 132 times.
No one could’ve known that Devin was murdered before the police. Unless it was the person, who did it.
I snapped a picture of the post.
Gotcha River.
Chapter 6
The Final Act
Darkness started to settle over the skies as I exited the ramp and onto a one-way street headed for the police station. A gentle breeze filled the car, tossing strands of my hair across my face. I signaled to get over in the next lane, preparing to turn two blocks ahead.
I checked my side mirror and merged.
Honk!
I swerved back into my lane and glanced over my shoulder, eyeing the music note decal on the window. A white car let off the gas, and I got over.
“Jerk. Stay out of my blind spot.”
I proceeded, waiting to turn.
I checked the mirror once more.
My heart thudded.
The white car’s engine roared as its windshield blurred the glass and barreled in my direction.
Slam.
The sudden impact propelled my Dart forward and into the truck in front of me.
Tires shrieked as the white car sped past on my left, weaving between other vehicles.
Pain zapped through my jaw.
Warm blood trickled from my nostril.
I grabbed a tissue and held it to my nose, observing the red drops that dotted the steering wheel and my dress. My costume for the play was ruined.
By the time I finished getting myself together, the driver of the truck was on his phone, standing at my side.
“Are you okay?” asked the driver, opening my door.
“I think so,” I said, getting out the car.
I circled my Dodge, taking in the damage. The front hood was smashed in, thanks to the guy’s hitch on his truck. A hit and run. Who’d do something so nuts?
Sirens whirred in the distance.
Half of me wanted to believe this was road rage. The other half knew it was intentional. And the white car. It seemed familiar. A lot of people have white cars. But not everyone had a music note on their window.
River.
After the paramedics had looked me over, they cleared me and stated that they’d like to take me to the hospital just to be sure. I declined.
When Officer Bloom arrived on the scene, he took my statement about the accident and collected the stuff I believed was tied to River.
Officer Bloom nodded and took notes. Not long after that, Detective Tanner invited me to sit in her vehicle and go over everything I’d told Officer Bloom.
“River Fuller was on our list. There just wasn’t enough evidence. We’ll take what you found and see what happens,” said Tanner. “What made you check the dumpster?”
“The video. River had left with the backpack only to return without it.”
“We checked the dumpster on Saturday. There wasn’t a backpack.”
I looked down at my messy clothes and flicked at a piece of spaghetti. “Maybe she put it in her car and waited.”
“Maybe,” said Tanner putting on her sunglasses. “It’s a good thing nothing happened to you. Next time you have a concern, just call the police.”
“I don’t want there to be a next time.” I got out and shut the door. “I just want to graduate, have a chance to mourn the loss of my best friend and get out of town.”
Officer Bloom signaled Tanner.
“My officers found River.”
I watched as Tanner left and called me a cab home.
On Thursday, the sunshine blared through the bay windows of the kitchen, giving me hope for a new day. The final hours for school were done and graduation day was on Sunday. I only wished Devin was here so we could hide in the tree house one last time and share the final plans for our future.
With River in jail, excitement about opening night was filled with mixed emotions. The school’s group page on Scatter had comments from students and teachers who showed their support.
The need to be alone without my parents had faded. It was good to have Dad and Mom back home and hear their complaints and lectures.
“Oliana, you’re moving too slow,” said Mom, walking into the kitchen. “You’re going to miss your show time.”
“It’s call time.” I sipped my coffee.
“Whatever. Just hurry.” Mom turned and left.
Today was our chance to support our children’s charity and hopefully spread a message about bullying.
I kicked myself into gear, thinking about what lay ahead for my future. Yesterday wasn’t something that I wanted to relive the rest of my life. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a way around it. They say the best thing for your heart is to forgive. Although you’ll never forget.
In my heart, I knew that forgiving the bio family that abandoned me in so many ways was going to be tough. Forgetting; never. Even in the short time since I’d learned what I had, it had changed me. My bio mom suffered. In the end, she killed a monster and herself to try and save me, her only daughter.
Others who knew allowed my mommy to be taken from me. I’d never get to hear her encouraging words to push forward and grow my acting skills. At least I know where I get my creative side. She could sing. And with every breath, I’d pursue my craving to become an actress.
A notification sounded on my phone. Reminder: Time to Take the Stage.
I grabbed my coffee and phone, checked the mirror and snapped a selfie of me in the green blouse and faded blue jeans. I’m wearing your favorite colors, Devin.
“Let’s go Oli,” said Dad.
Two hours later, I peeked through the curtains. The auditorium was packed, including the nosebleed seats.
Soon it was showtime. Except for a mistake by one actor which turned into a comical moment, everyone managed to keep up the pace, deliver perfect dialogue and put on a successful play.
At the end, a huge picture of Devin dropped from the ceiling, and we had a moment of silence.
I took the stage. “This play is in memory of my best friend Devin Worthy who played the character far better than I ever could have. Why? Because she was a victim of bullying. And she paid for it with her life. I’d like to thank the school administration for allowing us to host the play, here on the very stage where Devin lost her life.” I turned and looked at her picture. “Now you can perform at The Welton Auditorium anytime you like.
“This play wasn’t meant to scare, but to make others aware that online bullying is something that needs to be taken seriously. Also, thank you to all of those who attended. Your money will go directly to our B.B.B children’s charity. Which stands for Bruised. Battered. Bullied.”
A thunderous applause filled the auditorium.
“We’re all in this together. Thank you,” I said.
More applause. When the show was over, we took our bows and were even a part of an interview with the city newspaper.
After the crowd had cleared the auditorium, I went and helped finish cleaning up the set. Minutes later, the double doors to the auditorium opened, and a figure slipped through, closing the doors softly behind them.
“The show is over,” said Mr. C rising from his seat.
An older woman with a faint smile, dressed in a brown blouse and jeans approached the stage. Her beady eyes focused on me. “Oliana? You sure have turned into a beautiful young lady.”
“Do I know you?”
“I’m Linda. Your grandmother.”
Devin’s words, “Somethings are better left buried,” tumbled in my head.
The regrets had just become heavier.
Thank You
Thank you for reading Shadowed Seats.
Read more about the world of Oliana Mercer…
STAGED: OLIANA MERCER SERIES BOOK 2
Coming September 2017
Staged
It’s been two weeks since Oliana Mercer learned a horrible family secret and witnessed the death of her best friend. Two weeks of heartache, secrets, and lies. While Oliana wants to move on, graduation day is a turning point for her, but for the worse.
Austin wants Oliana to stay and not attend Reyersen Drama Academy, a relative from the past wants her forgiveness, the custody battle for her little brother moves forward…and then there’s James whose recent drug habit landed him in trouble. Now he’s missing. After a charred body, believed to be James is found in an alley a few blocks from the high school, Oliana receives a text from James’ phone.
When Oliana turns to the police for help, she is pulled into a conflict that makes her question whether to obey the law while fighting with the family who abandoned her.
Meet Ms. Ashton
When Marguerite Ashton was in her twenties, she took up acting but realized she preferred to work behind the camera, writing crime fiction. A few years later, she married an IT Geek and settled down with her role as wife, mom, and writer. Five kids later, she founded the Crime Writer’s Panel and began working with former law enforcement investigators to create; Criminal Lines Blog, an online library for crime writers who need help with their book research.
She’s a workaholic who hides in her writer’s attic, plotting out her next book and stalking Pinterest for the next avocado recipe.
A member of Sisters in Crime and Crime Writers’ Association, Marguerite grew up in Colorado. Now she’s happily living in Wisconsin and playing as much golf as possible.
You can find Marguerite at:
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Shadowed Seats: (Oliana Mercer series Book 1) Page 5
