What If

by Shirley Anne Edwards

  My stomach dropped to my knees.

  “Maybe he’s fishing and took the canoe out on the lake?” Dad asked, now appearing as worried as Mr. Preiss.

  Officer Jones tapped his mouth and gave me another strange look. Did he know I lied?

  “Every morning at five we do a drive-by near the lake. One of my guys noticed the empty car but assumed the owner of the vehicle was out fishing, even though it’s early in the season. Since the lake hasn’t frozen over, it didn’t really concern us. But, when we did another drive-by at nine, the car was still there. The officer approached the vehicle and scouted the perimeter of the lake to see if anyone was out on it. Then—”

  All of a sudden, another officer came running over, speaking on a walkie talkie.

  “Let’s get some guys down there to search the area. If we need to, we’ll drag the lake.” He huffed as he reached us. He was much older than my dad, and his stomach hung over his pants.

  My own stomach cramped, and my hands trembled. Dad put his arm around me, and Mr. Preiss turned when his wife called out his name.

  Mom joined us. “I just got off the phone with Sarah. What’s going on? Pete’s missing?”

  The two officers whispered off to the side. Mr. Preiss stood next to his wife on the sidewalk. She seemed like she was ready to burst into tears.

  “Mom, Dad, what’s going on?” Goose bumps appeared on my arms.

  Officer Jones came back over to us frowning. “Apparently, the boathouse that’s always been locked in the past isn’t now, and blood has been found on the scene, in and around the building.”

  I covered my mouth, and my mind went blank.

  “Mr. Preiss, would you please come with us down to the lake?”

  He nodded then whispered to his wife again.

  Mom was as dazed as I was. “Can you tell us—?”

  “Sorry, ma’am. This is an ongoing investigation. Originally, we thought it was just some kids fooling around, but now with blood found and the boathouse broken into, that has changed.”

  “What? Dad.” I grabbed his arm, and he pulled me in closer.

  The two officers left without another word, Mr. Preiss walking with them. Mrs. Preiss watched while they drove away. Mom went to her, curving her arm around the woman’s waist. My whole body went numb. Pete had to be okay.

  “Dad, they don’t think Pete’s hurt?”

  He gave me a hug. “Shh. Let’s not jump to any conclusions. Pete’s a good kid. You saw him go into his house. Why would he drive to the lake so late at night?”

  I hugged Dad, hoping Pete was found safe. If not, things would become very complicated.

  ***

  My hands shook. I’d bitten off all my nails. My manicure was ruined, and I think I tore out a few strands from twirling my hair too hard. I kept calling Pete’s cell, but it went straight to voicemail.

  If something happened to him, it would be my fault.

  I made him drive with me to help Pam.

  I made him go to the lake.

  I made him be with me at the boathouse.

  This could not be happening. I had visions of him hurt somewhere, passed out under a tree, or worse—drowned and at the bottom of the lake.

  My palms sweated. I kept wiping them on my pajama bottoms. I should have taken a shower and gotten dressed, but I didn’t feel up to it. I wasn’t hungry either. All I did was pace, hoping the police returned with word about Pete.

  Mom kept Mrs. Preiss company while they waited for Pete or his dad to call.

  I phoned Pam, but it went to her voicemail “Hey, it’s Wendy. Call me back. We need to talk about last night. I’m not mad. I need to talk to someone. Uh…something scary has happened. Please, call me.” The anger I had for her left, replaced with fear.

  I sat on the loveseat in the TV room with my cell, waiting for it to ring.

  The front door opened.

  I stood. “Have you heard anything?”

  Dad shook his head. “Tom hasn’t called to update Sarah. Your mom is trying to keep her calm.”

  “It’s been hours. I don’t understand.” I checked the clock. It was almost four.

  “Did Pete say anything at all that sounded strange? Maybe he decided to take a trip somewhere today and didn’t want anyone to know?”

  “No. He would have left a message for his parents if he did. He’s responsible like that.”

  “I know. This whole situation is just very odd.”

  “Can we go to the lake?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. If it’s a crime—”

  I sat down again, stunned. “What do you mean if it’s a crime?”

  Dad wiped the sweat off his face with his arm. He’d been busy doing yard work. “I don’t want to scare you, but this talk of blood makes me think it might be one.”

  I jumped up. “Take that back!”

  “Wendy, calm down.” He eased me onto the sofa again and sat next to me.

  Even though he was sweaty, I place my head on his shoulder and wrapped my arms around him. “Daddy, I’m so scared. I don’t want to think anything bad has happened to Pete.”

  “You and me both.” He held me and kissed the top of my head. We sat like that for a while until the front door opened.

  Mom walked in, pale and rattled.

  Releasing me, Dad went to her. “What’s wrong, Marie?”

  She pushed back her hair, her hands shaking. “Um, a detective came over. He said they’re going to drag the lake. It appears like there may have been a fight. There’s blood all over the canoe and on the floorboards. I…oh, Greg.” She grabbed Dad and hid her face in his chest.

  The room spun. I couldn’t breathe.

  ***

  The police were at Pete’s house again, talking to his parents, telling them they’d found him dead, drowned in the lake.

  It was almost midnight. Twenty-four hours from the last time I saw Pete, where he kissed me, said he loved me, and would only be gone a few minutes until he returned to me.

  I never told him I loved him before he left.

  I sat under my window and sobbed. My whole body hurt. I couldn’t stop the pain. I wanted Pete! He couldn’t be dead. He just couldn’t.

  The police had told Pete’s parents they’d found his body in middle of the lake, bundled in plastic with rocks tied around his body to make him sink to the bottom.

  Someone had killed my precious Pete.

  WHY?

  I rocked back and forth, alone. I didn’t want anyone to touch me, no hugs or whispers in my ear of sorry or it would be all right. He should be here, climbing into my bedroom window to hold me while I slept, pressing his mouth against my ear and telling me he was okay, alive.

  But he slept, all alone, on a slab of metal in the town morgue to be cut open like a fish and gutted.

  This was all my fault. If I’d gone with Pete when he drove to the lake again, he would still be alive. I could have kept kissing him, seduced him until he was so exhausted he would have waited until the next morning to return for his stupid backpack.

  But he didn’t. Because he left, and I let him, I had killed him.

  I dropped my face against my knees and shook. I wanted to scream and yell.

  The police hadn’t come to question me yet. But they would. I was the last one, besides his killer, to see him alive. They would find out what happened at the parking lot and the fight that had occurred. How we went to the boathouse and…. Oh God.

  How was I going to do this? Mom and Dad would never look at me the same way again. They would be disgusted, upset their daughter was no longer pure.

  They would blame me!

  It hurt. Oh, how it hurt. My Peter! My love and best friend was gone.

  I must stop crying and tell the truth.

  I needed to go downstairs and tell my parents what I knew. It would be the hardest thing I’d ever done. I’d kept so many secrets from them. They would finally know how he had snuck in to my bedroom at night and what I’d done with him at the l
ake.

  Hitting the back of my head against the wall, I clutched one of my stuffed animals to my chest. I was so scared. What if the person who killed Pete wanted to kill me? My legs almost folded when I stood. My teeth chattered. I stared at my reflection in my mirror. My eyes were bloodshot and my face red. I pulled my hair into a clip, my hands shaking. I looked horrible. I looked like death.

  I changed from my pajamas into jeans and a T-shirt and threw on an old, beat-up sweatshirt. My locket was safely hidden under my shirt.

  I opened my bedroom door and crept down the hall. Stopping at the top of the stairs, I took a deep breath, but more tears dripped down my cheeks. I wanted to sit in the hall and cry until there were no more tears inside me. But I couldn’t. Pete wouldn’t want me to sit there like a cry baby.

  I could feel him all around me, in my bedroom, standing next to me. My nose tingled, and I’d swear I felt his nose brush against mine.

  Each step I took creaked on the old floorboards. My heart pounded in my ears, my head throbbing, ready to explode.

  When I reached the bottom, my parents’ voices came from the back. I went into the kitchen. They sat at the table, holding mugs.

  “Oh, honey!” Mom wrapped me in a hug, and I cried into her neck. I let out loud, deep sobs until I started hiccupping. “Here, sit. Let me make you some tea.”

  She moved me over to the chair, but I remained standing, hugging myself.

  “I can’t sit. I need…I have to tell you both something. You’re going to be so angry with me.”

  Dad tried to pull me into his embrace, but I held up my hand to stop him.

  “I’ve been lying. I didn’t tell the complete truth about last night. I think I need to talk to the police.”

  Mom and Dad rose with stunned expressions on their faces.

  “I have to tell them how I killed Pete,” I said through my tears.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  It was almost one in the morning when we made our way over to the Preiss house. Two police cars were parked in front, and the lights were on all over the house. Mom and Dad stood on each side of me, and one of them rang the doorbell. A dark-skinned man close to my dad’s age wearing a black suit answered.

  “Hi. We’re the Wymans, the next door neighbors. Our daughter, Wendy, may have some information in regard to Pete’s death.” Dad’s voice broke off, and he coughed.

  The man opened the door and gave us a kind smile. “Come on in. I’m Detective Erik Donnelly, in charge of the case.”

  With Mom clutching my hand, we entered the living room. Mr. and Mrs. Preiss sat on the couch with another man in a dark suit and a uniformed police officer. Mrs. Preiss cried into a tissue while her husband comforted her by patting her back. When we stepped into the room, they all focused on me.

  The detective smiled at me again. I tried to return the gesture, but couldn’t. I gazed at Pete’s mother and tears came to my eyes.

  “Oh, sweetie!” She held out her arms for me.

  I let go of my mom’s hand, flew over to Sarah’s side, and we hugged.

  “I’m sorry.” I pressed my face into her chest.

  She kissed the top of my head. “It’s okay. Pete would want you here.”

  I glanced back at my parents. They stood there with their arms around one another. Mom seemed like she might be sick. I’d only told her how Pete and I went to the parking lot, but not what had happened after. I thought it would be better if I told everyone in the same room, even if it went bad for me.

  I moved away, wiped my hands on my jeans, and sat on the rocking chair. Detective Donnelly shared a look with the other man who was next to Pete’s father. He held a pen and pad.

  “Wendy, what is it? Do you have some information you want to share with us?”

  I nodded and gazed down at my lap. Mom moved in closer, sitting on the edge of the love seat.

  “Yes, I do. I have to get it off my chest.”

  Donnelly went into the other room and grabbed two chairs from the dining room table. One for my dad, the other for him to sit on.

  “Let’s get comfortable, shall we?” He sat next to me.

  “Wendy, what’s this about?” Mr. Preiss asked.

  I pressed my hands together and peered up at Dad. He nodded at me. Mom placed her hand on my knee.

  “The last time I saw Pete wasn’t when he dropped me off at my house for the night. About thirty minutes later, he climbed through my bedroom window.”

  “That would be close to midnight?” the detective asked.

  I nodded. Mom’s hand shook as she covered her mouth.

  “Was this the first time Pete did something like this?” Donnelly crossed his leg over his knee.

  “The first time he climbed into my bedroom window?”

  “Yes.”

  “No. He’s been doing it since we’ve been eight.” I wouldn’t look up. I didn’t want to see the shocked faces, so I kept focused on the floor, near the area rug where it hadn’t been vacuumed in a long time.

  “Wendy?”

  I blinked and looked out of the corner of my eye at the detective. “He stayed with me almost every night. I couldn’t sleep without him. But last night, he remembered he left his backpack at the boathouse and went to go get it.”

  “The boathouse? You were there earlier?”

  “Yeah. We needed to get away and talk.”

  “Why did you need to talk there? What about?”

  I unclenched my hands. They were white and throbbed from me holding them too tightly. “Because of the fight. At the dance, I got a call from my friend Pam. She sounded so upset. She and her boyfriend, Toby, had an argument, and she wanted me to come pick her up at the supermarket. Pete drove me to Williams’ Foods, where he works…worked. She and Toby were fighting in the parking lot, and Toby’s cousin, Dylan, and his friend, Anthony, stood watching. I wanted to help her get away from Toby, but then it came out why he was so upset. She had been cheating on him with Pete!”

  I started to cry again. Mom rubbed my back. I closed my eyes as tears fell down my cheeks.

  “We know about the events at the supermarket last night. Your friends are being questioned also. I want to know what else went on from your point of view.”

  “Because a cop came along, we had to go or we would’ve gotten in trouble. Dylan wanted me to go with him because he doesn’t like Pete. Of course he didn’t want me to go with Dylan because.…”

  Detective Donnelly bent closer. “Because?”

  “Because he didn’t like Dylan. I was dating both of them, and…I know it makes me sound like such a slut.” I couldn’t stop shaking.

  “Detective, my daughter is very upset,” Mom said. “Can’t this keep until tomorrow morning?”

  “I think it’s better if we hear this all now, don’t you agree, Detective?” Mr. Preiss moved off the couch.

  “Wendy, would you like to continue?”

  I peered up at him. “If I don’t, you’ll take me down to the police station?”

  He nodded.

  Dad started to speak, but I interrupted him. “It’s okay, Dad. I need to tell them what I know.”

  “Go on, Wendy,” Donnelly encouraged.

  All eyes were on me. Mrs. Preiss had stopped crying and tore apart her tissue.

  “I went with Pete. I didn’t believe he would cheat on me with Pam. A few weeks ago…no maybe longer, she told me she was cheating on Toby, but she wouldn’t say who it was. I knew deep in my heart it wasn’t Pete. We have…always had a bond. He wouldn’t do that to me. He knew something about Pam and what she was hiding. I think he knew who she was fooling around with. We both like the lake, so we went there to talk.”

  “You could have gone home,” the detective said. “Wasn’t Pete’s house empty?”

  I shrugged. “He wanted to go to the lake. So we went. We talked about things.”

  “What things? Did you stay in the car?”

  I shook my head. “No. It was too warm in the car, and I was angry. I wanted to g
o for a walk, but he was cold. He had the keys to the boathouse on him. We went inside and talked for a while.”

  “What did you talk about?” Detective Donnelly eased back in his chair. It squeaked.

  “I asked him if he knew who Pam was with and why she’d lie and say it was him. He denied it.”

  “Really? You talked for what, two hours or so before you went home?”

  I shrugged again and pushed a few pieces of hair behind my ears.

  “Wendy, is that all you did? Your face has become an interesting shade of red,” the detective said in a kind voice.

  I looked up at Mom. She gave me a shaky smile and kept rubbing my back for support.

  There must come a time in every teenager’s life when their parents finally realize their child was no longer that sweet, innocent baby they gave birth to. What I was about to say would shock everyone in the room.

  I leaned forward in the chair and bent near the detective. Our faces were so close they almost touched.

  “I guess you have all that technology they have on those shows like CSI and Law and Order? You found blood in the boathouse and will use a strobe light or something else like that to pick up other fluids?”

  “You’re a smart woman, Wendy. Those are one of the things we do at a crime scene.”

  I nodded and shook my head in understanding. “We didn’t talk the whole time. He didn’t want to and kept skirting around my questions and seemed scared. He said anyone could overhear us. I almost ran out, but he grabbed me and started to kiss me so I would forget and.…”

  “And what, Wendy?”

  I turned and met my father’s eyes. His were wet, and he gazed at me in such a way that made me want to crawl into his lap and rock like I used to do when I was little and I thought there was a monster in my closet.

  The room was silent as everyone waited for me to continue.

  “We lay down on the raft under the window and we.…” I couldn’t say it.

  “Had sex?”

  I sneered at the detective. “No! We made love. It was the first time for both of us.”