by Allie Gail
“Would you like to tell me what brought this on?” he finally asked quietly.
“Can’t you just answer the question?”
“Answer mine first. Then I will.”
“Fine. Let’s just say…someone was insinuating that you may have been the father of Jordan’s baby. And…other things.” More unspeakable things. I wet my lips nervously. How angry would he be when I told him where these allegations had originated?
“May I ask who it was that was making those accusations?”
I steeled myself. “Riley was at the theatre this afternoon running his mouth.”
He turned around to face me, eyes glittering coldly. “Was he now.”
“I told him you were with me that night.”
“And why would you do that? You know damn well I wasn’t.”
“Because he was…saying these things, Rob! He was - first he was all pissed off because I talked to Chief Landry, then he starts blaming you for what happened to your parents. Then he tries to convince me that you and Jordan were still hooking up. And I - I know that’s not true but I just want to know where you were that night! It’s not a difficult question to answer! Just give me a location - any location, please!”
The ice in his eyes began to thaw. Shaking his head with a sigh, he lowered himself onto the rug in front of the fireplace, stretching out on his side while resting his head on one arm. “C’mere. Lie down with me.”
After a moment’s hesitation I joined him on the plush rug, lying on my side so we were face to face, my back to the fire. He looked into my eyes while I waited for him to make everything all right again. I only prayed he wasn’t about to break my heart.
“I thought you weren’t going to talk to him anymore,” he softly admonished me.
“He was the one doing all the talking.”
“He wouldn’t waste his time talking if you weren’t listening. You have to learn to listen to the voice within yourself. That one never lies.” He pressed his free hand against my chest, leisurely moving his fingers around until he found my heartbeat. “I don’t want to know what Riley thinks. I want to know what this tells you. Does it see me as someone capable of murder? Is it afraid to trust me?”
“I trust you.” My response was automatic, but it was honest. Lying beside him, gazing into the depths of his soulful eyes, all I could feel was safe. Safe and undeniably secure. It was only when he wasn’t around that my mind was assailed with cruel doubts.
“But you want explanations.” His lips curved into an indulgent smile. “I can’t fault you for that. Just know that I’m not the villain here, Sara. Don’t you know he was only using me as a pawn to get back at you? In his mind, he probably believes you betrayed him by talking to the police. He was looking for a way to retaliate.”
While I couldn’t deny the truth in that, it still didn’t answer my question.
The fire crackled as the flames grew hotter against my back.
“Green Ridge Forest,” he said unexpectedly.
“What?”
“That’s where I was. You wanted to know, so I’m telling you.”
I remained silent, listening in rapt attention.
“Trent’s grandparents own some undeveloped acreage near Green Ridge Forest. They’ve never done anything with it - I don’t know why they hang on to it. You’d think they’d sell it or something. Anyway, I guess that’s beside the point. When I was about twelve, Trent’s dad took us out there so he could try out this pellet gun he got for his birthday. And the place just…I don’t know, stuck with me. It was only a few miles from where I lived at the time, so I got in the habit of hiking out there when I wanted to escape for a while. Or if I just needed a quiet place to think. I’d build a campfire and just sit out there for hours, listening to the night and looking at the stars. I felt less alone there than I did at home. It’s hard to explain.
“After I heard…what I heard that night, I just headed out there without thinking. I’ve always been bad about doing that. If there’s something I don’t want to deal with, my first impulse is to run. And the forest is usually where I wind up. It’s always been the only place I could find any peace. Only, this time there was no peace for me there.” Pausing, he propped himself up on an elbow.
“So that’s why you smelled like smoke - you had a fire going?” I watched the dancing flames mirrored in his eyes as he gazed over my shoulder into the hearth.
“Mm. There’s just something about a fire. Something about knowing you have control over something so potentially uncontrollable. Like I said before, it’s therapeutic.” Still mesmerized by the flames, he languidly began to comb through my hair with his fingers. “I stayed out there for the longest time, trying to decide what I should do. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized there was just no way I could let you go that easily. I came back fully prepared to forget anything that might have happened and put it behind us.”
“You would have forgiven me? Just like that?”
His eyes shifted from the fire to penetrate mine with their intensity. “I don’t think you have any idea what you mean to me, Sara. For the longest time it seemed like the whole fucking world was determined to beat me down. All I ever saw in myself was some worthless scapegoat, a bullseye for everyone else’s target practice. And then you came waltzing back into town and I knew, I just knew, you were destined to be the last blow. That one final push that would send me over the edge.
“But that push never came. Instead, you reminded me what it was to feel something. To want to open up and let someone in. To trust again. You literally picked me up and put me back together and every time I saw your smile and felt your touch I found one more reason to let go of the past. To forget all the rest. So, yes - you’re damn right I would have forgiven you. Just. Like. That.” With each of those last three words, he tapped my lips gently with his finger.
It was nearly inconceivable that he could find it in himself to have such unwavering faith in me. Never before in his wretched life had he been given one single reason to place his trust in anyone. Yet against all odds, he’d chosen to open his heart to me. How could I offer him anything less than my own enduring trust in return?
“I never meant to make it sound like I was accusing you of anything. I wasn’t implying…I just wanted…”
“You wanted clarification. I understand.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I’ll admit, the timing was pretty coincidental. Shit, I hope Riley doesn’t decide to take his whacked-out theory to the police. I’d have a hard time proving where I was that night.”
“You think he would?”
“If he thought for one second they’d take him seriously, he would. That guy would love nothing better than to take me down. I have to say though, I’m still not a hundred percent convinced he isn’t the one responsible.”
“His fingerprints weren’t on the lighter,” I pointed out. Not that I was trying to defend that asshole, but didn’t that kind of rule him out?
“What lighter?”
“The one Dana said the investigators found at the scene. I…guess I never mentioned that to you.”
Huffing a brief laugh, he reached up to rub his forehead. “And then I told you I chucked my lighter…God, no wonder you were starting to believe all that crap!”
“I never believed it,” I insisted.
“I’m happy to hear that.” He dropped his hand and smiled at me. “But just because they found someone’s lighter lying around doesn’t necessarily mean it was the one used to start the fire. The killer would have to be pretty damn stupid to leave it behind.”
“Dad thinks that friend of Riley’s, the one who provided the alibi, could have been covering up for him,” I reflected.
“True, he could have been paid off. I wouldn’t put it past Riley…or his parents.”
“But he must have been where he said he was at least part of the time. He told me he saw you getting gas across the street from the apartment co
mplex around ten o’clock. Or did he make that up?”
Rob’s face registered surprise before creasing into a frown. “No…no, I did stop to fill up at the Quickie Mart. Huh. I don’t know - I suppose he could have left right after that. There would have still been time.” He shook his head dismissively. “Whatever the case, I still don’t want you having any contact with him. If he shows up at the theatre again, I want you to call campus security - tell them he’s harassing you and needs to be escorted off the premises. Then call me. Okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed.
“I’m not kidding, Sara. You give me your word that you’ll do that.”
“You have my word - I’ll have him tossed out on his ass.” Somehow I didn’t think he’d come back though. I got the feeling he’d said all he wanted to say. “You’re going with me to the funeral tomorrow, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am. Two o’clock, right?”
“Right. Do you think he’ll show up there?”
“I would hope he has better sense than that.”
The fire popped and hissed, the enveloping heat working like a sedative. I began to feel drowsy, my eyelids drooping as they grew heavy. I snuggled closer to Rob, nestling my head just underneath his chin. His arm reached around my waist.
In a low voice I suggested, “Maybe it was an accident,” before succumbing to a yawn.
“Hm?” Rob sounded like he was getting sleepy himself.
“It could have been an argument that got out of hand. Maybe the person didn’t mean to kill her.”
His arm tightened protectively around me. “Doesn’t make her any less dead.”
That was true. But it was easier to try and convince myself that it wasn’t a premeditated act. That there wasn’t a coldblooded murderer walking freely around our small town.
“Guess we should’ve gotten here earlier.”
Unbuttoning my blazer, I nodded to Dana in agreement. Even though it was a fairly large church, there was standing room only. The pews were crammed to capacity and we were packed shoulder to shoulder in the very back. Me, Rob, Trent, Dana, Doug, Melanie, Colin and Staci in addition to a sea of familiar faces. Today Staci wasn’t scrambling to be the center of attention. Dressed in a demure wool skirt and black sweater, she stood quietly clutching Colin’s arm. For once she had nothing to say.
“I knew I shouldn’t have worn heels,” Melanie complained in a whisper, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
Doug leaned forward a bit to quietly ask, “Which ones are her parents?”
“First row, the couple closest to the center aisle,” Rob told him.
I’d seen them once before, at the homecoming game. Jordan’s mother was a dainty little woman with ebony hair cropped in a short pixie style. Her father was obviously the source of the striking auburn locks. He was a burly, hulking Irishman with a tangled copper mane and thick, shaggy eyebrows. He had a brutish sort of look about him. I remember thinking when I first saw him that he’d look right at home in an Irish pub, throwing back whisky and starting bar fights just for sport.
Right now, however, he just looked broken.
“I don’t see any of Riley’s family here,” Colin whispered.
“What’d you expect?” Trent hissed back.
I glanced up at Rob, and he looked down at me with warm eyes. His hand touched the small of my back gently.
It was a closed casket service, of course, but there were framed photos scattered around up front, offering a limited glimpse into her brief life. I couldn’t see them very clearly from where I stood. The one most prominently displayed was her homecoming picture, the one they’d used on the news. Her smiling image was propped among the mixed arrangement of white flowers blanketing her coffin.
The minister approached the pulpit. Silence fell over the congregation.
I wondered, suddenly, if she was wearing her necklace.
They say life goes on, and I guess when you’re young it has a tendency to go on a lot faster.
Friday at school, it was like nothing had ever happened. Business as usual. Six days since the murder, the funeral behind us, we all just wanted to go on with our lives. Yes, we. I was no different. I’d had my fill of the depressing stuff just like everyone else. We needed to put it behind us, to move forward with laughter and optimism again. Resume our everyday routines with a sense of normalcy.
For us, normalcy was Colin Hayes taking bets on whether he’d snort root beer up his nose at the lunch table. (He ended up collecting $4.75 and a massive migraine.)
Colin: Fuuuuuuck!
Trent: (laughing) Dumbass! Told you not to do it, didn’t I?
Doug: Man, that’s gotta sting! Does it hurt?
Colin: Ow…ow…ow…shit, that burns!
Rob: Twenty bucks says you can’t drink the whole can that way.
Colin: Screw that!
Dana: (looking at me) Are we the only halfway intelligent people at this table?
Me: I’d say so.
Rob: Here’s some pepper. Why don’t you try that next?
Me: Don’t encourage him!
Trent: Hey Doug, remember that time in fourth grade…
Doug: Shut up.
Trent: Remember what we dared you to do…
Doug: Shut. Up!
Me: No, I wanna hear this. What did you dare him to do?
Doug: Don’t you tell them. I’ll kick your skinny ass, so help me…!
Trent: You remember a girl named Brittany Kowalski?
Me: Um…I think so. Wasn’t she the one nobody liked because she was always telling on people for stuff?
Trent: That’s the one. Well, this one day we’re in the cafeteria, right, trying to think of something we can do to get back at her for being such a suck-up…and Jason Lee has one of those little plastic pudding cups in his lunch, you know? So we all dare Doug to go out in the hallway and hide in the janitor’s closet. ’Cause in the meantime we were gonna figure out a way to get Brittany to go open the closet door and Doug was gonna jump out and throw the pudding on her.
Dana: What flavor was it?
Doug: (rolling his eyes) Chocolate. What else.
Trent: Okay, so we’re all trying to convince Brittany she needs to go look in the janitor’s closet, telling her we found some kittens in there and all kinds of stupid bullshit like that, and of course she’s not buying it. But in the meantime, the assistant principal - you remember Mrs. Hightower, we always laughed at her because her name was Hightower and she was about four foot six - anyway, she comes bebopping along looking for a roll of paper towels.
Me: (giggling) Oh, no…
Trent: Oh, yeah. She gets chocolate pudding splattered all down the front of her dress. Wait - that’s not even the best part…
Doug: Man, do you really have to tell this story?
Trent: (starting to laugh) So Doug freaks out when he sees what he’s done and he just takes off. He runs away and hides and nobody can find him. For like two hours he’s missing. Half the teachers in school are looking for him. They call his parents and everything.
Me: Where was he?
Trent: You wanna tell ’em your brilliant hiding spot, Dougie?
Doug: (sighing) The dumpster behind the cafeteria. I didn’t think anyone would ever look there.
Trent: (doubling over in hysterics) One of the cafeteria ladies throws…oh God, I can’t even…she throws a bag of garbage on his head and he pops up outta there and scares her so bad she starts screaming…
Rob: I remember that! Didn’t you get suspended?
Doug: Three days, dude. My parents were pissed.
Colin: Only you, Doug.
Doug: Hey. I’m not the one who was just sucking root beer up my nose, was I?
Colin: Whatever happened to Brittany anyway?
Trent: (still laughing) She probably crawled up some teacher’s ass and got stuck there.
Me: I think she moved away around fifth or sixth grade.
Dana: See, Doug - this is what happens when you listen
to Trent.
Doug: I can’t eat chocolate pudding to this day without thinking about the look on Mrs. Hightower’s face…she did not like me after that. Every time I saw her in the hall she’d give me this dirty look.
Rob: She was probably a butterscotch woman.
Colin: Whaddaya say for old times’ sake I bring a pudding cup tomorrow and -
Everyone: NO!!
28
We’d just completed Friday’s run of Waltz of the Snowflakes when I felt Erik’s elbow nudging me in the ribs. “Hey, isn’t that Hot Lips over there?”
I looked down to see Rob seated in the front row of the auditorium, waiting patiently for me to finish up. He lifted one hand and waggled his fingers with a grin.
“Oh my gosh, is it six already? I gotta go - I’m supposed to be somewhere at six-thirty.” Bourréeing my way downstage, I sat on the edge of the platform and slid off instead of bothering with the stairs. “Hey, schmexy,” I greeted Rob, plopping down beside him to remove my pointe shoes.
“Hey, Twinkle Toes. Lookin’ good.”
“You haven’t been waiting long, have you?” I winced while trying to maneuver my sore toes into a pair of sneakers. A new blister had formed, courtesy of all the extra practice. Peachy. Reaching up, I unclipped my hair and shook it out.
“Nah, just a couple minutes. Are you ready to go?”
“Yep. Just one sec.” I tried to catch Miss Andrews’ attention by signaling with an arm. “I’m leaving now!” I called when she looked my way.
“One o’clock tomorrow - complete run-through, don’t forget!” she reminded me.
Waving bye to Erik, I wriggled into my coat before grabbing my duffel bag and following Rob out into the bitterly cold night. To my surprise, the few random flakes from the day before had called in for reinforcements. Snow was drifting slowly to the ground in a haze of white.
“I thought it was supposed to snow last night,” I remarked. My breath hung in the air as I lifted my face to the sky. The soft flakes kissed my eyelashes and cheeks, dissolving into cold wetness as soon as they discovered warmth.
