The Good Girl

by Barritt, Christy

  His words made me shiver. I took another sip of my now lukewarm latte. “Are there any other suspects?”

  Bryce shrugged and leaned back stiffly. “The police checked out a couple of leads, but nothing came of them. Some people think it was a random crime. Nothing was stolen from the house, though.”

  “But it could have been random. Sick people do sick things all the time. Random things. I hear about them every day on the news. Serial killers. Psychos. Loonies.”

  “Some people think that maybe it was a client of Danielle’s, someone who’d received a vision into their future that they didn’t like.”

  “But you say it’s Jeremy.”

  He shrugged. “He had motive, means, and opportunity. You tell me who else has all three of those?”

  Chapter 20

  I stared at Cooper’s house as I pulled the Hummer up to the curb between our houses. Was he inside working? Did he hate me? Was he still reeling from his revelation last night that I was even more messed up than he’d given me credit for?

  I tried to pretend like I didn’t care, but I did.

  I stepped out of the car, and my skin pricked. My gaze swung upward. My neighbor stood at his window, binoculars in hand. He ducked when he spotted me. Chills crept over me. Not again. Just what was that man up to?

  It was already six o’clock when I walked inside. It was hard to believe I’d spent the whole day as an amateur sleuth. And again I had to face this awful house alone. The thought of the neighbor across the street keeping an eye on me sent another army of imaginary spiders crawling over my skin.

  I let Gaga out into the backyard, careful to stay inside just in case Cooper was outside. I didn’t want to face him. I seemed destined to ruin anything good in my life, and I had no one to blame but myself. I stayed at the back window, staring at the backyard where darkness was beginning its entrance into the sky. That meant the Creepy Hours were getting closer. Already anxiety began to set in. What would happen tonight, and how would I handle it?

  My doorbell rang. Apparently, no one in St. Paul believed in calling before stopping by. That had been my experience so far, at least. For a brief moment, my heart fluttered with the hope that it might be Cooper. Maybe we could talk and make things right.

  When I jerked the door open, Candy and Mark stood on the other side. “Hey Maui!” Candy barged inside, Mark behind her. “We’re taking you out tonight. You’ve been cooped up in this house alone for too long.”

  If she only knew about where I’d been and what I’d discovered…

  “We want to show you a little bit of the Twin Cities.” Mark winked.

  I shook my head, knowing exactly where this was going. “I’m not going to a rave.”

  “It’s not a rave. It’s a social gathering, and it’s going to be a blast.” Candy looked me up and down. Was that a sneer? I thought we’d come farther in our friendship. “Go on. Get dressed.”

  “I am dressed.” Black shorts and a T-shirt.

  Candy grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the hallway. “Let’s go raid Lana’s closet.”

  Fifteen minutes later, I was wearing a skirt and a burgundy shirt that hugged my skin a little more than I was used to. Candy had wanted me to wear a skin-tight shirt with a plunging V in the front, but I’d refused. I looked in the mirror, and the result wasn’t too bad. A little edgier than I usually liked, but the outfit was still modest enough.

  “Tell me about this party,” I said as we walked back into the living room.

  I had a feeling today Candy was more of chocolate-covered grasshopper—something some people would consider a delicacy but that most would consider crazy. “It’s going to be a blast. You’ll see.”

  I also had a feeling that Candy’s idea of a blast and mine were totally different.

  Bad Girls Rule #10: Seize the party.

  Mark let out a low whistle when we walked into the room. “You look hot.”

  My cheeks heated. “Thanks...I think.”

  “Don’t tell your sister I told you this, but you might even be prettier than she is.”

  I’d never heard that one before. I knew I looked decent, but Lana had always been the strikingly gorgeous one. Her looks had gotten her in trouble on more than one occasion, but they’d also opened up some amazing opportunities.

  We climbed into Mark’s lime-green Jeep. The first thing I noticed were the crystals hanging from the rearview mirror. Crystals? I hadn’t taken Mark as the type.

  Immediately my muscles tightened. Did he know Miss Mystic? I mentally shook my head. No, I was reading too much into things. Mark had no connection to any of the craziness around me. Still, I felt shaken and trapped as we pulled away from the curb.

  I glanced back at Cooper’s place and saw him step out of the front door. For some reason, my heart panged with unexpected sadness. Spending time with Cooper seemed much more appealing than partying.

  I was just one big mess. I didn’t know what I wanted or who I was, and, for that reason, I was enough to drive myself crazy. At moments, I thought I wanted love. But not love like Peter’s love. He’d fled like a frightened cat at the first sign of danger.

  I thought I’d loved that man. He’d made my heart race and made me feel like I was the most special woman in the world. Then the going had gotten tough and he’d skedaddled from my life. When love was wonderful, it was wonderful. But when it was awful, it was awful. Would I ever be ready to take the good with the bad again? I didn’t know.

  Candy rambled in the front seat, all while looking at her phone and reading Facebook status updates aloud. I found myself liking Candy more and more as I got to know her better. Sure, our worldviews were entirely different, but her total disregard for the opinion of others was like a breath of fresh air.

  I caught Mark looking at me from the front seat, and heat rushed to my cheeks. He laughed and looked back at the road. Why would someone like Mark be interested in me? It just didn’t make sense. It was both flattering and unnerving.

  If I were to truly do the opposite of whatever I would normally do, then I’d let my hair down. I’d give Mark a chance. I’d try to actually have fun.

  We pulled up to a large house located on what had to be ten acres on the banks of the Mississippi. Forget Jersey Shore. This was Mississippi River Shore. As we stepped out of the car, I could hear the music and crowd inside the house. My muscles tightened, and my heart pumped harder. I shouldn’t be here.

  I should have driven. That way I could turn around right now and go back home, just as everything inside me screamed to do.

  I couldn’t move from my spot on the grass. Instead, I watched as adults acted like teenagers and chased one another around the house. Whenever the door opened, music poured out. I could only imagine what was going on inside.

  Mark’s hand went to my back. His presence was overwhelming. So why didn’t I feel safe like I did with Cooper? “Let’s go.”

  “I...” I put on brakes.

  Candy did her head tilt. “It’s going to be fun. Live a little. No one’s going to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

  A moment of temporary relief came over me. Right. I could still make choices.

  But, at once, I imagined being with Cooper, running errands and chatting. Most people would consider it boring. But I found comfort in the thought. I wasn’t a party kind of girl, and I had to face the fact that I never would be.

  Sometimes you could take a girl out of the church, but you couldn’t take the church out of the girl.

  I was swept inside the massive house and immediately stopped in my tracks. The overhead lights were off and flashing lights were in their place, electronic music blared, people danced and drank and made-out. The place reeked of body odor and alcohol.

  I looked back at Candy and shouted, “This isn’t a rave?”

  “Not officially.” She grinned and grabbed my hand. “Come on. Mark and I will show you the ropes.”

  She pulled me into a sea of people and turned toward me. “Let�
��s dance.” She threw her hands in the air and began moving with the music.

  I stood there and stared at her. I really was a party pooper, wasn’t I?

  “Dance!” She grabbed my arms and waved them in the air, all while my hands hung limply at my wrists. What had I gotten myself into? This was not my thing, and I couldn’t even pretend like it was. I guess if I was a cool Christian, I could come here, blend in and witness. But I wasn’t. Likely, I’d never be.

  “I don’t really dance.” Well, sometimes I danced when no one was looking, but it was never pretty when I did. Mostly I did jazz hands and the two-step. Occasionally I might throw in the sprinkler, but only when I wanted to feel like a complete dork.

  She continued to flop my hands in the air. “Just move a little.”

  “No thanks.”

  “Come on.”

  She wasn’t going to give up, was she? I rolled my eyes and bounced a little.

  Candy did her head tilt again. “That’s pathetic, Tara.”

  I nodded, not in the least bit ashamed of my lack of coordination. “I know.”

  At least she dropped my hands. Two women came up to talk to her. I tapped her on the shoulder. “I’m going to mingle.”

  Candy’s eyes widened, but she nodded. I stepped away, overwhelmed by the crowds around me. What had I gotten myself into? This might be how the other half lived, but it wasn’t how I lived. My faith in God or lack of faith didn’t matter. This just wasn’t me.

  I pushed my way through the crowd, the music so loud that I could hardly think. The music was doing more than make my head spin—it was starting to give me a headache, and I’d only been here for ten minutes so far. This was going to be a long evening. I thought of calling Cooper to come get me despite not seeing eye to eye. Except I had no idea where I was.

  I found a place against the wall, away from some of the crowds that flooded the interior. I’d bet the place looked nice minus the party scene. I felt like a high schooler who’d snuck off to a party at my friend’s house while her parents were out of town. Weren’t these people a little too old for that?

  This was totally Lana’s scene, wasn’t it? She’d fit right in, dancing and drinking with the best of them. She had no regrets while all I seemed to have was regrets. I’d have an easier time trying to make sense of the book of Revelation than I would making sense of myself.

  I was determined to make changes in my life but finding those changes much harder to come by, especially since my conscience was involved.

  “Not your scene?”

  I looked up and saw Mark staring at me. He was good looking. Way good looking, and he obviously knew it. For some reason, he seemed to have his sights set on me. I didn’t seem like his type unless he liked women who were hard to get. His attention was flattering, but that was all. I shook my head and shouted, “Not my scene.”

  He nodded toward the crowd. “It can be fun. You just gotta let down your guard.”

  “I’m not good at letting down my guard.”

  “I could show you.” Blue and red lights from the disco ball on the ceiling flashed on his face while a techno dance version of “Call Me Maybe” played overhead.

  I shook my head. “I’m going to pass on that one. Thanks, though.”

  “How about if I get you a drink then? We can go outside and talk. Get away from some of this noise.”

  Mark? Go outside and talk? Surprisingly sensitive, but maybe I’d misread the man. “I’d like that. I just want a soda, though.”

  He winked. “You got it.”

  I drew in a deep breath. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad if I could just get away from this pulsating music and the sea of people inside the home. Mark appeared a moment later and handed me a plastic cup. His hand wrapped around my elbow, and he led me out the door and onto a massive paved patio, complete with lighted fountains and a pool—which was also crowded with people.

  We kept walking until we were past the crowds there. Instead, we perched on a ledge with a bird’s eye view of the river. I could still hear the music behind me, but my heart beat much slower out here. Crickets sang their nighttime song and calmed my racing heart some.

  “So you’re nothing like your sister, are you?” Mark took a sip of his drink. His watch slipped down, and a tattoo on his wrist became visible. I thought they were called a “third eye,” the mystical symbol associated with New Age.

  Crystals and a third eye? What did that mean?

  I snapped back to our conversation. “No, Lana and I are nothing alike.”

  “Lana...she’s hard to keep up with. She’s one crazy chick.”

  I smiled, thinking about my sister. “Yeah, she is.”

  “You guys get along?”

  “Surprisingly, yes. We disagree on most lifestyle issues, but we’re still sisters. We’re there for each other when no one else is.” She’d been there for me after the Peter fiasco, and I’d been there for her during hangovers, breakups, and after foolish things she’d done on camera. Lana had a tendency to grieve and then be done with it. I, on the other hand, had a hard time shaking things off. No amount of praying or self-help books had changed that, so I’d simply accepted that trait for what it was—a trait that I needed to make the best of.

  I took a sip of my drink and nearly spit the liquid out. “What is this?”

  “Diet Pepsi.”

  “Is that all?”

  He smiled, a telltale sign. “Maybe.”

  “I said no alcohol.”

  “Just a little won’t hurt.”

  Was he right? Why did I always fall to the extremes? And, even if drinking alcohol wasn’t wrong in itself, was it wrong to go against my conscience, which screamed, “Don’t do it!”? I didn’t know. Living with black and white answers was much easier than living with the unknowns. I took another sip.

  “Isn’t it weird being here and not knowing anyone?”

  It was the number one reason I liked it here, actually. “No, not really.”

  “Sometimes it’s good to be anonymous, huh?”

  I nodded. “It sure is. You don’t seem like the type who would understand that.” I wasn’t sure why Cooper had told me to stay away from Mark. He seemed like nothing but a gentleman. I took another sip of my drink, trying to follow my new rules. Bad Girls Rule #10: Being sensible does not translate into being fun.

  “I have my moments of understanding.” He ran his finger across my cheek. “You’re really beautiful, you know.”

  His touch seemed so foreign...and so forward. I didn’t quite know how to react, so I took another sip of my drink. “Thank you.”

  “You’re like one of those women who’s a trophy wife.”

  I’d been called a lot of things before but never a trophy wife. I wasn’t sure what to think about that. I’d been up on a pedestal before, but I didn’t like it. I’d much rather be at someone’s level. Even the mention of being a trophy made tension build in me. Sometimes I just didn’t want people to have expectations of me.

  My thoughts drifted back to Cooper. I wondered what he was doing. Why was I thinking about him when I was here with a handsome man who seemed to be enjoying my company? I didn’t feel judged around Mark. Could it be because he had no standards?

  I resisted a sigh, frustrated at myself and my inability to stop thinking. Instead, I took another sip of my drink. My head was beginning to feel fuzzy and warm. What had he put in it?

  Mark leaned over until I looked him in the eye. “Listen, I know this isn’t your thing, Tara. If you want, I’ll drive you home.”

  Home? I could go home? That sounded lovely. As my head spun some more, it sounded even more than lovely. I put the cup on the ledge, needing to stop drinking, but I was afraid the damage had already been done. I hadn’t been sure how my body would handle alcohol but now I knew—not well. “I’d love to go home. Thanks Mark. What about Candy?”

  “I’ll text her. She’ll find a way home. Believe me.”

  I nodded. “Okay then. Thank you. I appreciate it.”


  Maybe my impressions of people were totally wrong. When would I ever learn?

  Chapter 21

  Mark pulled up in front of my house and walked me to the front door. I supposed that tonight hadn’t been too bad. I mean, sure, I’d felt like a fish out of water. I’d had one too many drinks—only one drink for that matter, but I had no tolerance for alcohol. I’d listened to music that glorified activities I’d at one time been adamantly against. I embraced a hedonist lifestyle that I’d told people would only leave them empty.

  But what if I was wrong? What if we only get one chance at happiness and had to make the best of it? You only live once, wasn’t that the saying?

  On second thought, maybe I should wait until this alcohol was out of my system before I made any big life decisions like that.

  Mark stopped by the front door, the light from the porch illuminating his hair. Not like it had Cooper’s, though. Cooper had appeared to have a halo while Mark...I wasn’t sure what the light did for him. I was surprised he’d even been gentleman enough to walk me to the door, but maybe I’d pegged him wrong. He’d been nothing but considerate.

  “It was fun tonight.” He stepped closer, and his hands went around my waist.

  My throat felt dry. Maybe walking me to the door wasn’t so much the act of a gentleman as it was the act of someone who wanted something.

  “Thanks for driving me home.”

  His eyes had a smoldering look about them as he leaned into me. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  Invite him in? Was he crazy? Not with the way my head was spinning. What had he put in my drink exactly? I’d assumed it had been a shot of some kind of alcohol. Now I didn’t know. “It’s a mess inside.”

  He kissed my neck, and his hands began traveling places where they were unwelcome. “I don’t care.”

  I tried to take a step back but couldn’t. He was too close, and I was too pressed up against the door. “I do.”

  “Come on, Tara. Don’t be a prude.”

  A prude? Like I’d never been called that before.

  That may have been the lifestyle I was trying to forget, but one couldn’t shrug off their conscious like a winter coat. Some things took time, and everything in me said no.