What If

by Shirley Anne Edwards

  “We did find a journal in Pete’s backpack, but the one you’re describing wasn’t there. We can’t find his older journal anywhere. The one here”—he unzipped the bag and pulled out the journal I gave Pete on New Year’s Eve—“only has one entry, written the night he was murdered. Unfortunately, by him stopping to write in this, it gave the killer time to murder him. Would you like to see what he wrote?”

  Giving him the go ahead, I tried to digest what he’d just told me about Pete’s other journal. He carried it around everywhere. Did the killer take it?

  Donnelly pushed the open book toward me.

  “May I touch it?” I asked.

  He nodded. I could see some white powder around the edges, which was probably used for lifting off fingerprints. I touched the bottom of one page. Tears came to my eyes, and I wiped away at them away with the back of my hand.

  There was only one entry, started on the early morning of February fifteenth in big bold letters—

  2/15

  12:15 a.m.

  I LOVE WENDY “WONDER WOMAN” WYMAN!!!

  …. more to come later

  I brushed my fingers across his writing and closed my eyes.

  If only he hadn’t stopped to write in this journal, he might not have died. What if I’d never given him this journal on New Year’s Eve? Would he still be alive?

  “It’s all because I gave him this new journal and I wanted to have sex with him. All because we went to the boathouse in the first place where he left his stupid backpack. Now he’s dead.” I opened my eyes and stared at Donnelly.

  “Wendy, things happen for a reason. You weren’t the one to hit him with a paddle or push him to the ground where he hit his head and died. You weren’t the one to pull out a canoe and wrap Peter in plastic, tie rocks to him, and push him out of that canoe into the lake to watch him float to the bottom. Unless, you’re admitting to all these things?”

  I shook my head. “No, I didn’t do any of that. But someone else did. Someone who hated him or wanted him out of the way because he knew something. Or Pete got into a fight for some reason. The answer might be in his other journal that’s missing.”

  Without a word, Donnelly took the journal away, sliding it inside the backpack. “Exactly. We locate that journal and we may be one step closer to finding the killer. With the permission of your parents, we would like to fingerprint you and do DNA testing.”

  Dad pushed his finger through his hair. “In this case, I would like to refer to a lawyer to see what our options are.”

  Donnelly nodded. “You’re more than welcome to make the call here, or go home. I would like to do this as soon as possible in order to cross off Wendy as a suspect.”

  “But you said she may still be one because of her lack of alibi. Or is there something you’re not telling us?” Mom sounded insulted on my behalf.

  I would’ve laughed but could barely think. All I kept seeing was that journal entry of Pete’s.

  “Ma’am, there are some things we can’t say. That’s the way it is. Again, Wendy is not the exception here. The others we brought in for questioning were given the same consideration.”

  “I’m tired, Mommy,” I said, and she pulled me into her arms. She shot the detective an evil glare.

  “My daughter is not feeling well, which after the past few days you can understand. I would like to take her home if that’s okay with you?” She stood with me without waiting for an answer.

  “I’m not holding you here. Mr. Wyman, call a lawyer and let me know. Thank you to you, your wife, and Wendy for coming down. This really has helped a great deal.”

  Mom started to leave the room with me, but I stopped, turning around. “Detective, who will get Pete’s backpack and what’s inside when this is all over?”

  “His parents.”

  “Oh, yeah, silly me.”

  “Let’s go home, Wendy.” She pulled me out of the room.

  We didn’t wait for Dad, who kept talking to the detective. As we passed the desks, I saw another room surrounded by glass. Inside, Dylan and his dad sat with another man in a suit who opened a briefcase. Dylan looked up, and our eyes met. He didn’t smile, his stare blank.

  Clenching my fists, I kept moving, keeping my eyes on him, wanting him to squirm in his seat. He didn’t look away. When we reached the bank of elevators, I released all the pent up air I held.

  Dylan knew something. I would find out his secrets. All of them.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I sniffed the pillow. Pete’s scent covered it, or so I let myself believe. I needed something tangible to hold onto, and the pillow Pete used to lay his head on was the only thing I had left of him. I didn’t have a sweater or even a sock of his to hold. I didn’t even have his journal, the one that was missing or had been taken, where he’d written down all his dreams and desires. That was the key to solving his murder. I needed to find it.

  Big fat raindrops fell outside my bedroom window. Again I didn’t go to school. I couldn’t. I needed to mourn alone with no one around giving me those pitiful looks. I couldn’t handle that.

  My door creaked open, and I clutched the pillow tighter, pressing my face into it, wishing it was Pete’s chest I touched, smelled, kissed….

  Someone sat on my bed. “Wendy, come downstairs and eat something.” Mom had stayed home from work again, and she shook my shoulder. “You’ve barely had anything in days. I know you’re hurting, but I don’t want you passing out or have to send you to the hospital.”

  “When do you think Pete’s funeral will be?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Think it will be one of those Jewish funerals? Will they wear those beanie things on their heads and step on broken glass?”

  She let out a shaky sigh. “Wendy.”

  I continued watching the rain fall. I flexed my hand and moved it closer to my face. It hurt from where I’d cut it. The Band-Aid wouldn’t stick and did nothing to protect the broken skin. If I cared, I would’ve replaced it, but I didn’t. “Mom, leave me alone. I’ll come down later. I just want to lie here a little while longer.”

  She played with my hair. “Honey, you can’t remain in bed forever.”

  “I know. It’s just…I feel closest to him here.”

  She didn’t respond but continued touching my head.

  “Are you angry at me about Pete sneaking up here at night and sleeping with me? We didn’t do anything you wouldn’t approve of.”

  “I wouldn’t approve of him spending the night even if you didn’t do anything.”

  “I know. Why do you think I kept it from you for so long?”

  “What else have you kept from me?”

  I didn’t answer and closed my eyes, pushing my face farther into the pillow.

  She sighed and got up. “I’ll be downstairs.”

  “Give me a few minutes. I’ll come down and eat something.” I needed my strength for later. I planned on making an unannounced visit to someone’s house.

  I opened my eyes. Mom stood in my doorway with a sad smile on her face. “When your father gets home tonight, we’re having a family meeting.”

  “Did he talk to Uncle Bob?” I sat up and brushed my hair away from my face. I really needed to take a shower.

  “He’s going to talk to him today. I want you to think about going to school tomorrow. It may be good for you. Some of your friends have been calling and asking about you.”

  Susie, Jess, and Christina had called. The biggest surprise was from Megan, who’d left a few texts. I didn’t answer them. The one person I waited to return my call never did.

  “Maybe.” I shrugged and yawned. “After I eat, would it be okay if I went to the park. That’s where Pete loved to be.”

  She peered out the window. “It’s raining too hard.” She left the room.

  I knew she was disappointed. If I were in her shoes, I would feel the same way. Of course, having a daughter as a possible murder suspect didn’t help things either.

  Getting out
of bed, I went to my dresser and picked up the picture of me and Pete at the beach. I placed my fingers on the glass protecting it then sat on the bed and held the photo to my chest.

  “Oh, Pete, I miss you so much,” I whispered, listening to see if he would respond. I only heard the drizzle of the rain. I lay down again, this time holding both the picture and the pillow. I needed a few more minutes to pull myself together. Then I would go and see one of the people who might have had a hand in his death.

  ***

  It was cold and rainy, but I wouldn’t be deterred from my mission. I ate lunch and talked with Mom, acting like my life wasn’t falling to pieces. As she drifted off on the couch, exhausted from the lack of sleep, I asked her if I could go out. She mumbled yes and went off into dream land. I hoped she didn’t have any nightmares. I didn’t have them. I’d barely slept since I was living one.

  I grabbed a black, bulky hoodie sweatshirt, slapped on a red baseball cap, and strode through the park. I didn’t ride my bike. It would rust. Taking a walk, even in the drizzling rain, would feel good. I headed down the path that would take me around to the opposite side of the park where Pam lived. I didn’t look at the big hill Pete used to ride down dangerously. I would just start crying again, and I needed to be cool and composed for what I had to do next.

  The Collins’ house was dead. I cringed at my bad choice of words, but when I climbed their front steps, the place appeared deserted. There were no cars in the driveway. It could be that Pam’s parents were at work, or she may possibly be at school. I didn’t think she was. By this point, word probably had gotten around about her involvement with Pete’s murder, her relationship with Anthony, and her pregnancy.

  Ringing the doorbell, I waited to see if someone would answer. Her older brother and sister were still away at college and wouldn’t be home for another few weeks for spring break.

  What if his murder was still unsolved by then?

  The door opened. Rain dripped down my face. Pam stood there in her pajamas with her hair up in a clip. She had a blanket wrapped around her and looked like she’d just woken up.

  “We need to talk, Pamela.”

  I expected her to slam the door in my face, but she left it open and ambled off. I entered her house, ready for a confrontation and some much needed answers.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked after we entered her bedroom.

  She sat on her bed, and I claimed one of her desk chairs. I unzipped my wet sweatshirt, took off my hat, and fluffed out my damp hair.

  “Nice frizz you got there, Wyman. You can put your things next to the radiator to dry.”

  I laid them on a trunk close to the bed.

  She rubbed her stomach then leaned against some pillows. “Physically, I’m okay. In other ways, not so much.”

  “Why haven’t you returned any of my calls? How could you not tell me you were screwing Anthony? Why would you lie and say it was Pete?” My voice broke and tears lodged in my throat.

  “Wendy, I’m so ashamed. I never meant to hurt you or Pe—um…I guess I’m paying for it.”

  I pulled my hair back and tugged on it. “At least you’re still alive.”

  She peered down at her lap.

  “I need to know what happened after Pete and I left you. Apparently, I’m the only one with an unreliable alibi. Did Anthony really spend the night with you? I know you too well, so I can tell if you’re lying. Right now, he seems to be the only one I can think of who hated him and wanted to hurt him.”

  She kept staring down at her lap. “While Dylan, you, and Pete argued, I went to find a telephone booth. I was going to call Susie or Christina for help, but Anthony said he would help me. After you two left, Dylan and Toby drove away together. They left Anthony there. I guess because he went to search for me. I don’t know why he didn’t go with them, but he said he wanted to be with me. I think it was a little past ten. We went to the Starbucks to talk and stayed there for another hour or so, and then he came home with me. Mom and Dad didn’t notice when I snuck him upstairs because they were down in the basement, watching the big screen. Anthony stayed with me the whole night, I promise you. We talked and didn’t sleep—”

  “What did you two talk about?”

  She lifted her face, tears in her eyes. “About my pregnancy. I took the test last week. I’m a little over thirteen weeks.”

  “Anthony must have shit his pants.” I moved to sit on the edge of her bed.

  “He was at first, but we were careless. I was on birth control, and we thought it would be enough, because all the other times we were with one another…we didn’t think about using anything else….” Her face turned beet red.

  I rolled my eyes. “How stupid could you be? Because of this—”

  “Don’t start, Wendy!” Standing, she pointed her finger in my face. “You think because I cheated on Toby with Anthony I’m to blame for what happened to Pete? Anthony didn’t do it!”

  “All right calm down. I’m emotional also. I lost my best friend and the boy—the man I loved to somebody who didn’t care and ended his life. And I don’t know why. What am I supposed to think? Anthony hated Pete. The last time they were together was that day in the hall—”

  All of the sudden, a thought hit me.

  “Oh shit. He knew about you and Anthony.”

  She nodded and sank onto the bed. She wiped her eyes. “Anthony and I really tried to keep it a secret, but we could hardly keep our hands off each other. There were times he would pull me into the boys’ bathroom, you know, the one in the corner on the third floor? No one ever goes in there. But then, right before Thanksgiving, while Anthony and I were…the door opened and in walked Pete. I think he was more surprised at finding us together than we were by being caught by him.”

  “I guess he thought you and Toby would be in there and not Anthony.”

  “It was something else. He stared at Anthony weird. Anthony lost it and went to attack Pete, but I held him back. Pete ran out of there, and I was able to calm Anthony down. I told him I would take care of Pete and not to worry about it. I followed Pete home from school and saw him taking his bike out for a ride. I found him in the park and acted as if I was just passing through. We talked, and he said I didn’t have to worry. He would keep things between me and Anthony a secret. Anthony didn’t believe him and became really angry. It got so bad that Anthony cornered him at school. Well, you were there that day. That’s why I ran down the staircase.”

  I covered my mouth. She’d conveniently left out how Pete had first found her crying at the park. For now, I wouldn’t bring that up. “I had no idea. I thought you just came upon them fighting again. I’m so stupid!” I hit my leg hard.

  “After that, I made sure Anthony stayed away from Pete. It became very stressful, lying to Toby, keeping Anthony happy, and making sure Pete didn’t tell anyone.”

  “I bet you were,” I said in a dry tone.

  She frowned. “I wish I could make things better. I want to go back to the way things were, like in the summer.”

  “But we can’t. You’re certainly paying for it now. What are you going to do?” I refused to mother her. I wanted her to see my anger, my rage.

  “By the end of school, I’ll be into my second trimester. I’m going to try and keep it quiet. Only the police know. I think my parents are going to talk to Anthony’s dad.”

  “Good luck there. His dad is always working. Too bad his mother’s out of the picture.”

  “Wendy—” She reached out to touch my arm, but I pulled away and stood.

  “Don’t touch me.” I held up my hands “I’m not in a good place right now. Someone we may know killed Pete. Do you have any idea who it could be? Maybe you fell asleep and Anthony snuck—”

  “Stop right there! I didn’t fall asleep, and I’m not covering for him. We were up all night talking like you and I are now. He went home around eight the next morning. He didn’t kill him. Or maybe you think I did, that’s why you’re staring at me like I’m scum.”


  I crossed my arms. “The only reason I know you didn’t do it yourself is because you aren’t strong enough to pull a body into a canoe and row out to the middle of the lake. Unless, you had help?”

  Pam trembled in anger. “You bitch. You actually think I killed Pete? That Anthony and I teamed up together to murder him. You’re so off base!”

  “You’re not the person I’ve been wrong about. Can’t you see the damage you’ve done? You whored around on your boyfriend and got knocked up by some asshole with anger management issues,” I shouted.

  “GET OUT!” She lifted her hand to slap me.

  Grasping her wrists, I pushed her on the bed. She rolled to her side, held her wrist to her chest, and cried. “Leave me alone!” She sobbed into her pillow.

  “Just remember, you’re alive and Pete’s not. Someone bashed his head in and threw his body into the lake like garbage. Remember that while you moan and groan over what you did to get to this point. You had everything. A perfect life, and now you’re a mess, a pathetic little girl.”

  “You don’t know nothin’,” she said through her tears, and pounded the bed with her fists.

  I grabbed my things and left without another word. Pam’s cries echoed in my ears as I left her house and into the rain that no longer was a drizzle, but a full-blown storm.

  ***

  I sat in the park on the cement bleachers near the track. The rain poured, leaving me shivering. I stayed there until it grew dark. My parents would be worried sick. For all they knew, the killer could’ve found me and finished me off.

  A car pulled into the parking lot behind me. When the door opened and shut, I turned. Dad was there, wearing his trench coat and holding an umbrella. He walked to where I sat and held the umbrella over my head.