Dead Girls

by R. L. Weeks

  DEAD GIRLS

  Copyright © 2019 by R. L. Weeks & Krystle Able

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, nor translated into a machine language, without the written permission of the publisher with the exception of brief quotations for the purpose of a review.

  Condition of sale

  This book was sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it was published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  The moral right of the author had been asserted.

  This was a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events and organizations was purely coincidental.

  First Edition

  ISBN: 9781699469477 (Paperback)

  Edited and Proofread by Novel Nurse Editing

  Cover Art by Dark Wish Designs

  Formatting and Typesetting by Dark Wish Designs

  Chapter One

  Pierce

  The most beautiful smiles hide the darkest secrets” was a saying my mother always had. She was surrounded by snakes in the disguise of wealthy husbands and their trophy wives on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, but it was home—our whole world—until today.

  Thunder boomed through the sky. Lightning followed shortly after, lighting up the room with a blue-purple flash. I was afraid. I tried not to show weakness to my little sister, Jackson, but she could tell something was wrong. I compulsively scratched at the scabs on the back of my hand and dug my nails in until the blood tinted my pink nail polish. I hissed and stared at the ceiling. I started to count the grooves in the paint, attempting to pass time without going insane.

  Jackson kicked a heart-shaped pillow onto the cream carpet in a show of defiance. “I hate how they just locked us up in here. No explanation.”

  I shrugged. “We just need to patient.”

  Patience was something I had plenty of. Jackson did not. She was the disobedient one, with a wild spirit and a recklessness that could only be surpassed by our cousin Laura, who spent an absurd amount of time here. Laura loved money and used her parents’ deaths as a reason to hang around my mom and dad in our apartment on Fifth Avenue. She was a parasite. Mom agreed, even though Laura was her niece. She and her sister had never gotten along. Dad felt bad for Laura though, and around here, Dad’s word was law.

  A jolt of terror pulsed through me when the door swung open. Mason, our dad’s head of security, looked at me. Worry had etched its way onto his expression, crowning his prominent jaw and thin lips. “Please, Mason,” I begged.

  He sighed and handed me an iPad. “Here.” Without another word, he left the room and closed the door behind him,

  He was a good guy, probably the only one I trusted out of our staff. Staring up at me in thick, black caps were the words:

  BILLIONAIRE GEORGE HARRISON ACCUSED OF EXTORTING MILLIONS IN PYRAMID SCHEMES.

  George Harrison, billionaire and CEO of Harrison Coffee, Harrison Industries, and Harrison Automobiles, has been exposed by several confirmed sources in what the New York Times is calling “the court case of the year” with charges of extorting millions from unsuspecting colleagues and clients using pyramid schemes.

  Unfortunately, we have yet to receive a statement from George Harrison or his wife. His children, Pierce and Jackson Harrison, were taken from their schools by the family’s security personnel as the allegations surfaced.

  I re-read the article while Jackson tried to read it over my shoulder. I pressed the home button, and the article disappeared before she could finish reading it.

  “What does it say?” She groaned, trying to snatch it out of my clammy hands. “Please, Pierce!”

  I pressed my lips together and held the iPad close to my stomach, keeping it away from her grip. “It’s nothing. Just another scandal.”

  “I saw Dad’s picture.”

  “A scandal about him,” I said slowly. “We’re in trouble.”

  I looked at the door, panic rushing through me. It made sense now, why they came to Jackson’s school and my college campus and pulled us from our classes… why we were rushed home without any indication as to what was happening, then hauled into my bedroom. Security stood outside my door—no escape, no explanation. We were used to that, no explanation. My dad had a traditional outlook. Children must be seen but not heard. He had no problem keeping us in the dark every time something blew up, but this wasn’t just another scandal about him allegedly paying for escorts. This was extortion of millions of dollars. It would bankrupt us, and since the federal government now has ground, they could search everything. God only knew what other secrets Dad was hiding. If the allegations were true, then he would be going away for a long time. Did I think they were true? I couldn’t be sure. He was a hard man to get to know, even as his daughter. I doubt anyone truly knew the real George Harrison… not even our mom.

  While I was distracted, Jackson had pulled the iPad from my hands and opened the article. I caved, letting her read it. I knew she wouldn’t stop until she had seen it.

  She paused, looked up from the screen, and stared at me blankly. The sparkle in her green eyes dimmed. She looked more like our dad than I did. She had inherited his eye color, his dark brown wavy hair, and his long nose. “This can’t be true,” she finally said, her voice going up an octave. “No. You watch. This is just like when that woman tried to accuse him of having sex with her and it turned out to be lies. Right, Pierce?”

  I leaned forward, then dug my nails into the side of my thumbs. I closed my eyes briefly, trying to find the right words. “We can’t know until the court case.”

  She looked mad. Her hair danced around her chest as she stood. She slammed the iPad down on my desk, cracking the screen, and looked at me with disbelief. “You can’t believe this!” she shouted. “It’s our dad, Pierce! He wouldn’t do that. He’s a good man!”

  She had always been closer to him than I was. She was daddy’s little girl, his little troublemaker, but he always depended on me to look after her, which was what I was doing now. I needed to prepare her. “Please, Jackson. Calm down.” I waved my hands downward and let out a long exhale. “I’m saying he’s innocent until proven otherwise. We have to be realistic here. We don’t have any of the facts.”

  She pointed her finger at me. “Faith, Pierce. We should have faith in the man who raised us. That’s what family does.”

  I didn’t reply because I couldn’t tell her why I couldn’t have faith in the man without spilling the secrets I promised to take to my grave.

  Somehow, the universe always put me in the middle of every dark path my dad had gone down. Whether it was gambling, whoring, or… other things, I always ended up stumbling across something incriminating or catching him in the act. It was disturbing, and those memories would haunt me forever. I couldn’t have them haunt Jackson too.

  A voice sounded from outside the door. “Code Red.” The guards ran down the hall, leaving our room unsupervised.

  Jackson raised her eyebrows at me. “Let’s go!”

  I bit my bottom lip. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea… They kept us up here for a reason.”

  “We need to talk to our parents,” she said, enunciating each word. “Now!”

  “We should wait for Mason.”

  “Are you serious?” Jackson rebuked. “You know they’ll just hide everything from us, like they always do.”

  I knew that was far from the truth, but I knew better than to argue
with her. “Mason will come back. We could get caught.”

  Jackson flicked her chocolate-brown hair over her shoulder and rolled her expressive green eyes. “I’m going now, with or without you.” She pushed the door open with more force than necessary and left.

  “Fuck!” I said as I followed her. I couldn’t let her deal with whatever was outside of the door alone.

  I followed her into the living room, a white, modern space with windows overlooking Central Park. Stars smattered the sky above. They were faint, hidden behind the flood of city lights, gray clouds, and grumbling weather.

  I hurried and caught up with Jackson. She had reached the glass elevator which went up to our parents’ apartment.

  “You’re going to get us into trouble!” I warned and pressed number three. I held my breath as the elevator whirred and took us up. With a ding, the doors opened. I followed Jackson out into our parents’ apartment, which was a luxurious mirror of ours.

  The world looked beautiful on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. It was also a lie, hidden by smoke and mirrors. The more money you had, things you possessed, and power you had, the more you got bored. My dad got bored a lot and looked elsewhere for pleasures to sedate the beast within. My mom was depressed but hid her feelings well by indulging in late-night champagne. They always needed something, and they never found real happiness.

  “Over there.” Jackson pointed at the bedroom doors. There was talking from inside, lots of it, and panic in their voices. We rounded the corner and were faced with a crime scene. Mason stood in front of the open door.

  He said something into his radio.

  Time slowed.

  Blood was splattered across Mom’s large dresser running along the left wall. Reflected in the mirror was my dad’s body, lying still and broken on the bed. Blood had been sprayed along the wall and headboard.

  Dizziness flooded me. I held my breath as I cast my eyes downward. On the carpet in front of her dresser, my mom’s body lay cold, unmoving. Her eyes were open but her gaze was empty, only reflecting the lightning flashes from outside the long window that ran the length of the far wall.

  Jackson dropped to her knees. Her scream rattled me; it shook all of us. One of the security personnel lifted her and held her as she cried.

  I was numb.

  My shock froze the scream lingering in my throat.

  The lilies on the mirrored dresser tinted the air with the smell of death, reminding me of the smell at my grandfather’s funeral two weeks prior—my mom’s dad. Her mom had died a long time ago. So had my dad’s dad. The only family we had left was Grandma and Laura. We never saw Grandma.

  “Pierce?” Mason snapped his fingers, bringing me back to my bloody reality. “You need to leave. This is a crime scene,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. I looked at Jackson and shuddered. The guard escorted her out of the room, then sat her on an armchair.

  I tore my gaze away and looked Mason straight in the eyes.

  “How bad is it? You can be honest with me.”

  He looked around the room at his security team, then patted my shoulder and turned me away. He leaned in. I could smell his cologne. It was powerful, heavy. “It looks like suicide.” He slowed his breathing. I could tell he was rattled. “There are lots of people outside, trying to get in. They’re angry, and your dad… They don’t know he’s dead, and they’re angry at you too. Both of you. They’ll take it out on anyone related to him right now. People lost a lot of money because of him.” He paused and looked around. “We’re going to get you out of here. The press will be trying to find you, to get a statement.”

  I pressed my eyelids shut tightly and held my breath for a few moments before opening them again. My heart hurt, but I couldn’t think about my grief, only Jackson. This scandal could destroy everything. If there was one thing people cared about here, it was money, and they were pissed. Now Dad was dead, after cowardly shooting himself and my mom, all so he didn’t have to deal with this. Instead he left us in the middle of this mess.

  Mason looked at me, his gaze pointed. “We’re sending you to Washington to stay with your grandmother. She’s the only family you have left.”

  “Why can’t I stay here? I’m old enough. I can look after Jackson.”

  He leaned in closer. The line in between his eyebrows deepened. “You won’t have any money or a place to live. Your father’s assets will be frozen, and until the legal side is investigated with everything he is being accused of and then the will executed, you won’t have access to any money. That could take months. Years even.” He paused for a moment. “Jackson’s legal guardian, per your father’s will, is your grandmother. I don’t know why, but she would be better off there for now. Until this has all blown over, and the targets are off your backs, and you have money again, you should go with her.” He put his finger up to stop my argument. “It’s not worth fighting this right now, Pierce. Get settled in Washington, and once you have your trusts and your inheritance released, you can figure out what you want to do then. Jackson will be eighteen in a year. It’s not too long to wait.”

  Everything he’d said made sense, which aggravated me. I loved my independence, and I certainly didn’t want to go live with our estranged grandmother, but he was right. We didn’t really have a choice. I hadn’t even thought about my trust fund being frozen too. How could Dad have gotten us into such a mess? How could he do this to his own daughters?

  “Thank you, Mason. For everything,” I said quickly and touched his hand.

  “I’ll always be grateful for everything you’ve done for us.”

  I walked into the living room and touched Jackson’s shoulder. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her nose was running. I looked at the man standing guard next to her. “We need to go, Jackie.”

  The man didn’t say anything as I led Jackson away, but his gaze was fixated on us. Once we rounded the corner and were out of sight, I placed my hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “Listen to me carefully. Things are going to get bad for us if we stay here. All Dad’s assets have been frozen. We need to go stay with Grandma until this whole thing blows over. We don’t want to face everyone he screwed over, or the press. Once we get our inheritance and trusts back, we can leave there, okay? But for now, we need to go. I can’t believe he did this to us.”

  She sniffed. “If he did…”

  “He did! I’m sorry but you need to open your eyes to this. He’s lying dead because he shot himself and Mom. He wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t guilty and knew he was going to spend the rest of his life in jail.”

  “No, no he wouldn’t have done that. Something else happened. He’d have never taken his own life!” she stated, her voice breaking.

  I pressed the elevator button and was sweating profusely by the time it rolled up. “The police will want to talk to us first,” I said, avoiding her denial. “After that, we can fly to Washington.”

  “On the jet?”

  I shook my head. “Commercial.”

  She looked horrified.

  “We don’t have a choice. Everything we own is frozen.”

  She was paler than usual, and her brown eyes looked almost gray in that lighting.

  I stroked her neck with my thumb, which I always did when Jackson was upset. “Jackie,” I said softly, using the nickname I only used when I needed to give her bad news. “I know you’re confused right now, so am I, and sad, but we need to go, okay? Once the police get here, we leave. We can’t be here right now while all this is going on.”

  The sound of muffled talking traveled through the ceiling into the apartment.

  She finally relented. “Okay.”

  After giving our statements and avoiding the press, we reached the airport. My heart was racing, and my hands were trembling. So much had happened that day. I caught my sister’s scared gaze, then straightened my spine. I had to remain calm… for her. I touched her shoulder gently. “We’re going to be okay.”

  Tears filled her eyes, but she didn’t
reply.

  Chapter Two

  Jackson

  Leaves rustled around us as we propped our suitcases against the large cast-iron gate. I looked around for an intercom but couldn’t see one. Pierce pushed the gate, which creaked open. What was the point in such a big gate if anyone could simply open it?

  We both walked a little up the driveaway. We looked at the manor and gulped simultaneously. Vines strangled the house in a death grip, weaving in and out of cracks. Each rickety brick sat on top of another, towering the house high into the sky with several floors. It sat nestled in the center of an overgrown garden. Standing proudly in front of the worn steps was a weathered, stone fountain. Moss-filled water lay still surrounding the statue of a naked woman.

  I turned to my sister and looked at her with wild eyes. “It doesn’t look like anyone even lives here.”

  She looked the house up and down, scanning it. She was always like that, Pierce. She would take everything in slowly. She had no impulse to react. In fact, I can’t remember a time when she was impulsive. Steady, calm, careful… those were the words I would use to describe her. Her hair was bright red and poker straight, not even one hair was out of place. She was taller than me too, around five foot seven. I was barely toppling the five-foot mark. She reminded me of a graceful swan. Always composed. She fit into the family well. I never did.

  Something caught my eye in the top right window. I could barely make it out. A figure of white moved past the curtain. I shook my head and blinked twice. “We should go in,” I said wearily.

  The plane ride had been awful. I couldn’t get any sleep. The image of my parents lying in their room, dead, floated in and out of my numb brain. I could hardly process a thing. One minute I was crying, the next I was okay again. It was strange. I felt so lost.

  Pierce bit her bottom lip, looking at the doors of the house cautiously. “Okay. Let’s go.”