Don't Say a Word (Strangers Series) (21 page)

CHAPTER 36

BETWEEN THE INVESTIGATING officers and Bitty, a lot had been uncovered, Carrie thought. The only thing they hadn’t figured out yet was the truth.

The police station smelled like the Child Advocacy Center . . . of coffee and lemon disinfectant. Carrie sat, soaked, her clothes clinging to her, in the small room she’d been told to wait in. She’d draped thin blankets over her shoulders and lap but was still shivering.

She was finally going to tell the truth. Keeping the secrets had been ripping her apart. She’d made the decisions she’d made because Zoe meant everything to her . . . and she’d been trying to please and protect her. She also thought she was saving Zoe’s life. But now she realized that it was unlikely Zoe could be saved.

Something inside her sister was very broken.

The door opened and the young police officer who’d given her the blankets poked his head in. “Sure you don’t want something to drink? We have Dr Pepper and Coke.”

“No, thank you.”

“All right then,” he said. “The detective will be here any minute.”

“Thank you.”

The door closed again.

She stared at the scars on her wrists.
The truth will set you free,
she told herself.
The truth will set you free . . .

Zoe was going to lose her mind when she found out, but Carrie had to be okay with that. Still, it would be difficult. She had loved Zoe more than anything all her life. All, except for the last few weeks: since their parents had died.

Because Zoe had changed.

During the weeks at the Callahans’, Carrie had tried to see the Zoe she’d once adored, not the Zoe she’d become. But Carrie was frightened of Zoe now. Not for herself, but for Allie, Bitty, and Sammy, because she now knew exactly what Zoe was capable of.

For weeks, she’d watched as the lies just spilled out of Zoe’s mouth so effortlessly.
How long had she been lying like this?
All along, and she just hadn’t noticed? Or just since that night?

It didn’t really matter now. She could never forgive her. The bond they’d once shared had been shattered beyond repair. For as long as she lived, Carrie would always remember Zoe’s coldness that night in the bathroom as she lay bleeding on the floor.

You know how freaking selfish that was? Did you even stop to think about me?

Yes—and that’s where Carrie had gone wrong.

Zoe didn’t love her at all. Zoe didn’t know how to love. Not a healthy love, at least. Her love was obsessive, selfish.

Dangerous.

Hearing footsteps approach, Carrie bravely lifted her head and took a deep breath.

The door opened and Detective Lambert walked in. Allie walked in behind him, her face a mixture of surprise and concern. Seeing her, Carrie shuddered. She tried to be strong, to keep it together. But her face crumpled.

Allie crossed the room and knelt beside her. She took her hands.

“What’s going on, Carrie? Why are you here?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she choked out.

“What are you sorry for?” Allie asked, her beautiful gray eyes as kind as always. But they were also red and swollen.

Carrie knew she was to blame. She shook harder. “You shouldn’t be so nice to me. I don’t deserve it.”

Allie cocked her head. She studied her, a questioning look in her eyes. “Yes you do,” she said, but she sounded uncertain.

The door clicked open and her caseworker appeared. Then right behind her, the forensic therapist, Renee, and Sergeant Davis.

Detective Lambert sat down, and said softly: “Carrie, I’m going to have a short talk with Renee, then she’ll be in here to talk with you, okay?”

Carrie shook her head. “No . . . I can’t . . . I can’t wait. I need to tell you now.” Her eyes swung back to Allie’s.

“Is this about Johnny, Carrie?” Detective Lambert asked.

Carrie listened to the low-pitched hum of the fluorescent lights above her. Tears clouded her eyes as she tried to get the words out, but they were stuck in her throat. “Part of it.”

“It’s okay, Carrie. Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay,” Allie said.

She shook her head. “No. It isn’t.”

Carrie wasn’t sure where to start, so she just began talking. “I didn’t want to make her mad,” she said. “I
never . . .
wanted to make her mad.”

Sammy waited for Zoe in his mommy’s bed. When she came back she was wearing boots and holding a cup and a syringe. She kept pushing at, squishing, crushing, something at the bottom of the cup with the syringe. She looked like she was in a big hurry.

“You spilling on Mommy’s bed,” he said.

She didn’t seem to hear him. She just kept crushing. And spilling.

“You spilling, I said.”

Zoe set the cup on his mommy’s dresser. “Don’t worry. I’ll clean that up in a little while.”

“What in the cup?”

“Medicine,” she said. “
Yummy
medicine. I’ll be right back,” she said and rushed out of the room again. Seconds later, she was back, her hands full of gummy worms. She threw them on the bed in front of him. He reached for one, and she slapped his hand away.

“Hey!” he said, his hand stinging.

“You have to take your medicine first. You know that.”

His eyes locked on the colorful worms.

She picked up the cup and filled the syringe. Then she pressed the syringe to his lips. “Go ahead. Make sure to drink it all.”

He did. It tasted like orange juice and something bitter, like the orange peel he had tasted once. It was a big yucky taste. Not tasty at all.

“Focus, Sammy,” Zoe said.

He got it all down, then reached for the gummy worms again. She pushed them away. “No, you’re not done.” She swirled the medicine around in the cup and eyed it. “You have one more to drink.”

Sammy noticed something poking out of Zoe’s pocket. Grammy’s cell phone in its green case.

“Why you got Grammy’s phone?”

Zoe ignored him and handed him another syringe filled with medicine. As he tried to get the next syringe down, Sammy stared at Zoe and noticed all the sunshine—every bit of it—had gone from her eyes. Now they reminded him of the fish he caught with his mommy at the lake. It made him sad to see those fish flopping around in the ice chest. It was fun to catch them, but it was sad to know they were going to die when they—

“
Focus,
Sammy,” Zoe barked, making him jump. He felt some of the medicine trickle onto his chin. “Drink the rest of it, dammit. C’mon, hurry.”

“You say a bad word,” he said.

She rolled her eyes.

Even though he wondered why she was in such a big rush, he did as he was told. When he was done, his tummy suddenly felt very full. He cupped his hands to it and heard it gurgle. As he reached for the worms again, Zoe shoved them to the floor.

“No fair! I dranked all my medicine!”

Zoe turned her back to do something, and he noticed she’d left one gummy worm clinging to the end of the bed. A red-green one. His favorite. He grabbed it and held it tight.

His stomach gurgled again. It was starting to hurt.

He wanted his mommy.

“I no feel good. I . . . need Mommy.”

Zoe turned around. “Well, you’re not
getting
your damn mommy,” she snapped, looking mean again. Even meaner than before.

“I think I have to go potty.”

“You don’t have time for that.” She picked him up, her dark hair brushing his cheek. With his head above her shoulder, he could smell the scent of his mommy’s shampoo. It was a sweet tangerine smell. But Zoe also smelled like stinky sweat.

Breathing hard, she dashed out of the room and into the living room. With every one of her steps, he felt the medicine slosh around in his tummy, and he felt even sicker.

Zoe went to the sliding glass door and slid it open. She stepped outside and the freezing air made him shiver.

“But I no have coat on,” he said. “Or shoes.” He was just in his Spider-Man pajamas. “Where we going?”

But she didn’t answer him.

His tummy gurgled again. A bigger, more painful, gurgle.

He moaned as he bounced up and down in her arms, across the yard, her shoes making sucking sounds in the wet grass with every step.

She was heading to the woods.

CHAPTER 37

THE INTERVIEW ROOM was silent, which only made Carrie feel more uncomfortable.

“You didn’t want to make who mad, Carrie?” Allie asked. “Your mother?

Carrie shook her head, then stared down at her wrists. “No. Zoe.”

Everyone in the room waited with bated breath. The silence in the room was deafening. Carrie knew that once she told them, she wouldn’t be able to take the words back . . . and that scared her.

But she had to tell them.

She
had
to.

Finally, she took a deep breath, then let it out. “Johnny came by the other morning,” she started. “Zoe told him you had gone to the supermarket with Sammy.”

Allie nodded for her to go on.

“And he said he’d wait outside for you.”

Carrie finally managed to get the words out. She told them how she’d been on the couch in the living room when Johnny had stopped by. And how she’d managed to catch most of their conversation, before retreating to the bedroom to lie down. Bitty hadn’t been feeling well and was taking a nap, so Carrie saw it as an excuse to go to sleep, too. Sleeping, when she could manage to do it, was the only time her mind could relax. But she wasn’t in her bedroom for a minute when the bedroom door slammed open.

Sitting up in the bed, Carrie watched Zoe rush in, her eyes wild. She crossed the room and threw open the closet door. Then she hurried out of the room, the stuffed bear in her hands.

Her heart pounding, Carrie slipped out of the bed and followed her. She heard her tell Johnny that Piglet had just run off into the woods and asked him to help find her. A moment later, Carrie watched them disappear into the woods together. She remembered her breath catching because she knew what Zoe was planning to do. And how guilty she felt later when she discovered she actually went through with it.

Carrie felt Allie’s hand go limp inside her own.

“Are you saying Zoe killed Johnny?” Detective Lambert asked.

Carrie nodded. “Yes.”

“She has a gun?” Allie asked, her face white.

Carrie nodded again. The gun was inside the stuffed bear. There was a deep pocket in its tummy, a zipper down its back. Plenty of room for the gun and silencer. Their father had a silencer for all of his handguns, because one of his favorite hobbies had been shooting wild pigs, and doing so in the manner he had wasn’t exactly legal. Zoe had been convinced that if the gun was hidden anywhere else, or buried in the woods, it would be found. But who would check a stuffed teddy bear? At least that had been her logic. “Yes. In the stuffed bear.”

Allie’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh my God.”

Suddenly something occurred to Carrie. “Where’s Sammy? Is he here?”

Allie shook her head. “No, he’s at home with Bitty and Zoe.”

Carrie knew Zoe would be pissed when she found out her sister had left again. She’d be afraid that Carrie was going to tell. And what would that lead her to do? Carrie hadn’t thought about that until now.

“Why, Carrie? Tell me. You’re frightening me,” Allie said.

“I don’t think Sammy should be around Zoe right now,” Carrie said. “She’s jealous of him, and she’s going to be so angry when she finds out I left—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Detective Lambert was already out of his chair, ushering her and Allie out of the room and barking orders for everyone to follow him to the Callahans’ house.

Within seconds, Allie, Detective Lambert, and Carrie were in the detective’s vehicle, leaving the station, police sirens screaming above them. Everything felt more surreal to Allie by the minute. Nausea swept through her body at the possibility that Sammy could be in danger.

“There was a police car at the house when I left,” Allie said.

“The patrolman had to leave before shift change. His wife was involved in a car accident during the height of the storm. His relief is on his way to your house now.”

Allie’s fingers were shaking so badly, she kept pressing the wrong saved numbers on her keypad, trying to reach Bitty. When she finally got the number right, her calls immediately went to voice mail.

Beside her, Detective Lambert barked orders through his police radio . . .
Not sure what we’ll be dealing with . . . County Road 447 . . . Paramedics . . . Stat.

A cool sensation crawled through Allie’s body as she stared out the side window at clusters of trees.

“Are you okay?” Detective Lambert asked.

She shook her head no, and conjured up Sammy’s handsome little face in her mind’s eye. The feeling of his little arms wrapped tightly around her. “Mommy’s almost home,” she said quietly, hoping he was sitting safely on the couch with Bitty, playing a game or playing with his minifigures.

That their rushing to the house was just a precaution—unwarranted fear.

Her thoughts flew to Zoe killing Johnny. She could hardly believe it. Yes, Zoe was clingy . . . maybe even a little obsessed.

Yes,
definitely
obsessed.

And confused—yes, that, too. But she was also a very sweet and helpful girl.

How could she possibly be so dangerous? And if she was, how could Allie not have seen it?

And she’d left Sammy with her.

Oh my God. If anything happens—

She didn’t let her thoughts go there.
If you think a thought long enough, and with enough emotion . . .
She stared out the front window. Rain was falling in sprinkles. She was functioning on her last spurts of adrenaline. But she had to keep going until she knew Sammy was safe.

In the distance, she heard the wails of other sirens. Detective Lambert placed a hand on top of hers and squeezed as though trying to offer assurance. But he didn’t offer up any words.

Is it because he can’t . . . because he thinks something bad has happened? That Sammy might not be okay?

The three minutes they’d been in the car had felt like hours.

Finally they pulled off the paved road onto the dirt one.

Carrie sat in the backseat of the police car, staring through the bars. She had more to tell them. Much more.

“I think I know why you’ve been so sick,” she said to Allie, wanting to free herself of as many secrets as she could.

Detective Lambert glanced at her though the rearview mirror.

“I think Zoe’s been drugging you,” Carrie said.

“Drugging?” the detective asked. “What do you mean?”

Allie turned in her seat.

“I didn’t see her do it, but I think she emptied out your antidepressant capsules and filled them with something else. With the pills our mother used to give us to make us sleep a long time. They’re called Xanax.”

“Why would she do that?” the detective asked.

“I think she wanted Allie to need her. She did it to our mother last year for the same reason. She took the little beads out without her knowing. The beads were supposed to make her happier, and when she took them out, she got really depressed. And the Xanax made her so tired she could barely get up some days.

“When she was sad and tired, she’d let Zoe help her do things. I think Zoe felt if she helped her enough that our mother might change her mind and love her again. And I’m pretty sure that’s what she’s been doing to you.”

“Why do you think that?” the detective asked.

“Because I found beads in the bathroom. The beads that are supposed to be in the antidepressant. If you open the capsules too quickly, they spill out really fast. But unless someone’s been opening the capsules, you never even see the beads.” Seeing the tears in Allie’s eyes, she swallowed hard. “I would’ve said something sooner, but I didn’t know,” Carrie said. “I didn’t realize until today.”

Carrie noticed how the detective kept shooting looks at Allie. He seemed more concerned about Allie’s suspected poisoning than her admission that Zoe had killed Johnny. He seemed to care about her. Carrie knew she’d never have anyone care about her after all of this. The realization made her feel even lonelier.

All she’d had was Zoe and her father.

Now she had neither of them.

The Night Before the Murders

It was the first time in weeks that Zoe seemed somewhat like her old self. Not quite, but close enough to make Carrie relax a little.

As always, they were hanging out in Zoe’s bedroom. Zoe sat painting her fingernails with pink glittery polish and watched
Modern Family
on the iPad. Carrie was on the other side of the bed, reading a book.

“Shit!” Zoe suddenly said, scrambling off the bed. “She’s going to kill me.”

“Huh? What happened?”

Carrie looked over and saw that Zoe had spilled some polish on the comforter.

“Crap. Want me to get some nail polish remover?”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll get it.”

Zoe hurried out of the room. About twenty minutes later, the door flew open. Zoe was wide-eyed. She hurried to the bed, breathing hard.

“What happened?”

“Mother’s planning . . . she’s planning . . .” she started, then stopped to take a breath. “She wants to run away with Gary and take us with them! She wants to take us away from
Dad,
” she shrieked. “She’s serious, Carrie! They’re making plans right now!” Zoe looked hysterical.

Carrie clamped her hand to her sister’s mouth. “Shh. They’ll hear you.” She took her hand from her sister’s mouth. “Calm down. You’re not making any sense.”

“They’re going to take off and bring us with them!”

“What? Who said that?”

“Mother! And Gary!”

Carrie stared at her sister, her stomach suddenly aching.

She watched Zoe pace. The news was unsettling. But even more distressing at the moment was how upset Zoe was. Carrie couldn’t stand for her sister to feel bad. Carrie felt a weird tightness in her chest. She’d heard that was a sign of a heart attack. She’d felt it before, but this was the worst yet. Could twelve-year-olds get heart attacks? She would have to Google it, she thought, her pulse racing. “Calm down,” Carrie said.

But Zoe was too amped to calm down. Tears streaking her face, she stopped pacing. “And she’s going to give Gary all of Dad’s money so they can keep it for themselves.”

“What? Are you sure about all of this, Zoe?”

Zoe stared at her. “Do you think I’d make something like this up?”

“No, I mean—”

“Then why would you even ask such a thing?”

“Sorry,” Carrie said.

Zoe paced for a very long time, refusing to talk. She just kept muttering to herself, and shaking her head.

Carrie was definitely going to throw up.

Zoe finally turned. “Dad would take us if Mother wasn’t around? She’s lying when she says he won’t take us, right?”

“I don’t know.”

“We need to do something,” Zoe said.

“Like what?”

Zoe seemed to study her. After several seconds, she leaned over to whisper something in her ear . . . something that would change everything for both of them forever.

As soon as the words were out, Carrie raced for the bathroom and vomited.