Down By The Water (17 page)

THIRTY

I followed Ty back out to the truck.

He turned the key in the ignition and the air conditioner blasted us with cool air. I twisted in my seat so that I was fully facing him.

“Well?”

“
Well, what?”

I motioned to the envelope. “Aren't you going to open it?”

He held it out to me. “I was going to let you do the honors.”

I shook my head vehemently. “No.”

He raised an eyebrow, puzzled. “No? Why not?”

I didn't say anything for a moment, just stared at the envelope he was holding. Part of me wanted to tear it open and devour every piece of information recorded on the sheets inside. But another part of me hesitated, worried over what I might find. What if there was more to my sister's disappearance than I realized? Ty had helped plant those seeds of doubt, especially with what had happened to Annie. But I couldn't help but wonder if the evidence Jorgenson had collected would cast me in a suspicious light. Clearly, he had his suspicions about me, but what if there was something that would cause Ty to think I was somehow responsible? The thin, unmarked envelope was like Pandora's box.

“I dunno,” I said, shifting my gaze to the dashboard. It was a little after ten and I realized we hadn't eaten anything yet. And I was starving.

He tapped the envelope against his thigh. “You want me to do it? To look?”

I hesitated, then nodded. He'd gone through all of the trouble to get it for me and the last thing I could do was tell him that I wanted to just forget it, toss it in the trash as though the file didn't exist.

“
You're sure?”

I took a deep breath. “Yes. Do it.”

I kept my eyes locked on the dashboard but I could hear his fingers peel back the flap of the envelope, could hear the rustle of papers as he pulled them out. He was silent as he rifled through them and suddenly the noise of the cold air blowing through the vents became too much.

“
What?” I asked. “What's in there?”

“
I don't know.” He sounded confused.

Reluctantly, I lifted my eyes from the dash and looked at him. He held a thin stack of paper in his hands, his eyes locked on the top sheet.

“What are you looking at?”

“
The report,” he said. “Jorgenson typed it up. He references the bruise. The bruise he told you about.”

I stiffened.

He tapped his finger on the paper.  “But he says in the report that it was small. No mention of shape, of it being a hand or whatever.”

“
Okay.” I waited.

“
Well, shouldn't he have written that down if that's what he thought it looked like?”

I took a deep breath and expelled it slowly. “I have no idea.”

He shuffled the papers, staring intently at the new top sheet. “When was she found?”

I frowned. “What? You know when she was found. You were there
—”

He cut me off. “No,” he said impatiently. “How long had she been missing before you found her?”

“Not quite 24 hours?” I said, more of a question than a statement as I tried to remember. My parents had been at the store when she'd gone missing and I knew it had been after lunch. We'd found her the next morning.

“
So the bruise was old.”

“
What?”

He waved the papers at me. “The bruise had to have been old. No way does a bruise show up that fast. Usually takes at least a day. Sometimes longer.”

“That's not always true,” I said. “Depends what kind it is. How it happens.”

Ty stared down at the paper. “I think it was old.”

“Well, we don't know that,” I said. “There's no way to prove how old the bruise was. Or what caused it.”

He shuffled through the papers one more time and I waited, watching his face intently as his body went rigid and his eyes widened

“I don't know that it matters,” he said, his voice soft. “Because I think we were right.”

“
What?” I asked, alarmed. “Right about what?”

He handed me the stack of papers, his eyes hard. “See for yourself. The bruise that Jorgenson told you about? The bruise he wrote about in his report, the bruise he accused you of giving to your sister? There isn't a single picture of it. At least not in the file.”

THIRTY ONE

The papers shook in my trembling hands. I didn't look down at them.

“
What are you saying?” I asked, my voice shaking as much as my hands.

Ty nodded at the file I was holding. “See for yourself. There isn't a single picture of this bruise. Nothing. All we have is Jorgenson's statement that there was one.”

I cast my eyes down at the papers clutched between my fingers. The first sheet was typed, one long paragraph that I soon realized was Jorgenson's report. My vision blurred when I saw Rosie's name and then my own mentioned in sentences that I was somehow incapable of reading. A tear splashed on to the page and I lifted my head, trying to stem the tide.

Ty reached out a hand, his palm flat against my thigh. “Hey. You alright?”

I tried to nod. “Yeah.”

“
This is a good thing,” he said, his voice gentle.

“
How do you figure?” I asked bitterly. I wiped at my eyes. “It just means there's no evidence to refute what he says. I mean, if it's in the report, it's in the report. His word against mine.”

“
But he didn't document it,” Ty said. “He's been the sheriff for years, Lily. He knows how to document a case. If there was a bruise on your sister—a bruise he was concerned about—he would have photographed it. Another piece of evidence. Trust me. He does everything by the book.”

“
Maybe he forgot,” I said, knowing full well how ridiculous that reason sounded.

“
Or maybe it's like what we said,” he said. “Maybe he made the whole goddamn thing up.”

“
Or maybe your ex-girlfriend somehow forgot to copy that part of the file.”

Ty frowned. “No. She wouldn't do that.”

I looked at him. I could absolutely see Caroline doing something like that, especially if she'd had any idea how Ty felt about me prior to getting the file for him. I remembered how her disposition had changed when I'd grabbed Ty's hand and I'd chalked it up to her being surprised—and pissed—that I was laying claim to him. But maybe she'd already known. And maybe there hadn't been anything surprising about it.

“
She might have.”

He shook his head. “She wouldn't have.” He said it with authority and I didn't have the energy to argue with him about the honesty and trustworthiness of his ex-girlfriend.

“Okay.” I expelled a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. “So, now what?”

“
I don't know,” he admitted. “I wasn't exactly expecting this, you know?”

I did know. I'd been hesitant about getting the file in the first place but a small part of me had hoped we'd find something to redeem me, something that might prove or at least hint at the possibility that I was innocent, that the sheriff had no reason to suspect that what had happened to my sister had been anything more than an accident. But all we'd seemed to have discovered was either an incomplete file or some shoddy documentation of evidence on the sheriff's part. Or that he was fabricating a whole piece of his supposed investigation.

I shifted my gaze back to the papers in my hand. Slowly, I lifted the top page, trying to focus on the typewritten words.

Ty's grip tightened on my thigh. “You don't have to look at them” he said. “There are actually a couple of pages in there you probably shouldn't see.”

“Why?”

He hesitated. “There are...some photos. Not of the bruise,” he said quickly. “But...”

My throat closed up a little and I nodded, stopping him from saying anything more. Pictures. I knew what of.

My dead sister.

I thrust the papers back at him and he stuffed them back into the envelope.

“
I'm sorry,” he said. He tossed the envelope on to the floor of the cab.

I blinked a couple of times, like windshield wipers trying to clear the tears. “Not your fault,” I told him. “None of this is.”

He shifted in the seat, leaning his head against the headrest. “I scanned the papers. His report. It's word for word what he told me about the case. Minus the bruise, of course. And the statements he attributes to you match what you've told me.”

“
Okay.”

“
So, at least there's consistency.” His hand was still on my thigh and he gave me a gentle squeeze. “That's a good thing.”

I sighed. “There isn't anything good about this.”

He looked at me, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“
What I mean is we're no closer to figuring anything out. The sheriff still thinks I'm suspect number one. On a case that was ruled a fucking accident. And now he thinks I'm behind the latest accident at the resort. Like I'm some goddamn serial killer.”

Ty started to speak but I held up my hand.

“He's held out for years that my sister had a bruise on her back when I found her. When they took her to the hospital. Apparently, that's the piece of pivotal evidence he has, the thing he's clinging to that somehow makes me a murderer. So you get your ex-girlfriend to steal the file so we can see this bruise. Except there isn't a picture. There's nothing except Jorgenson's word that there
was
one on my sister.”

He opened his mouth again but I shot him a look and continued.

“You wanna know what I think?” I asked, my voice rising. “What I've just figured out?”

He raised his eyebrows and waited.

“I'm not the only one who was here when my sister died and who's here now. The whole Annie thing.” I shook my head, disgusted. “Jorgenson acts like I'm the common denominator. But guess what? There are a shitload of people here now who were also around when my sister died.” I narrowed my eyes. “Caroline. My sister. Your parents. The sheriff. And you.”

His fingers dug into my flesh. “What are you saying?”

“I'm just pointing out facts,” I said evenly. “The bruise may or may not have been there but all of us sure as shit were around for both 'accidents.'”

“
You think I had something to do with your sister's death?” His voice was incredulous. “And with Annie? You think I'd do something to hurt her?”

I could hear the hurt in his voice and I hated myself for causing it. But something wasn't adding up. A lot of things weren't adding up. There were too many coincidences, too many similarities to what happened to my sister and what happened to Annie. Even with Ty insinuating that there might be more beneath the surface, I'd tried to hold on to the belief that both incidents had been what they appeared to be at face value. Accidents. But I wasn't so sure anymore.

And I wasn't the only common denominator anymore, either.

“
I don't know what to think,” I told him. “But I know one thing. I'm the victim here. Just like my sister and just like Annie. And I'm going to find out just what the hell is going on.”

THIRTY TWO

We drove back to the campground in silence. I'd finished with my outburst and Ty had lifted his hand off of me as if my leg had suddenly caught fire. He'd gripped the steering wheel with both hands, his knuckles white and I'd stared out the window, paralyzed by the words I'd just spoken.

I chewed on my lip and had half a dozen half-formed apologies on my tongue but I couldn't bring myself to say any of them. I felt bad that I'd hurt his feelings but I was also unnerved by what we'd found. Or, rather, what we hadn't found. And I was anxious about my own revelation, realizing just how many people could have been involved if what had happened had really been foul play as opposed to an accident.

Ty pulled into the driveway and the tires skidded on the gravel as he braked hard. He killed the engine. I reached for the door handle and Ty stayed still, his hands back on the steering wheel, still holding on tight, his eyes staring straight ahead.

“
Thank you,” I offered feebly. “For taking me. For getting the file.”

He turned to look at me and I pulled back, surprised at the anger etched into his features. “Don't thank me.”

“Ty—”

He shook his head. “No. Don't thank me. Hell, don't even talk to me.”

“What?”

“
If you think I did something to hurt your sister.” A muscle in his jaw twitched and he swallowed before speaking again. “To hurt Annie...” He took a deep breath. “How could you even think that? After everything that's happened? How?”

“
I...I don't think that,” I muttered.

“
Yeah,” he said. “You do. You lumped me in with your round up of suspects. Because we were all around when both things happened.”

“
I don't think of you as a suspect,” I protested.

His eyes were dark with anger. “Bullshit.”

“I don't,” I said. I stared at the door handle, wishing it would open and I could somehow be transported to anywhere other than where I was sitting. “I was angry. Upset. I mean, why am I the only one under suspicion when all of us were here?”

“
Look at me,” he commanded.

Reluctantly, I lifted my eyes back to his.

“I didn't kill your sister. I didn't lure her away from your tent.” His voice was thick with revulsion. “And I didn't hurt Annie.”

I nodded quickly. “I believe you.” And I did. Or at least I wanted to believe him.

“I'll admit, I was pissed when I found out about you.” His grip loosened and he drummed his fingers on the vinyl fabric that encased the wheel. “But that was because I felt like you lied to me. You know? But after that? After you explained everything to me? I've been your biggest ally. Your biggest supporter. I've been the one to ask questions, to try to get to the bottom of things. Even when you didn't want to. You really think I'd be doing all that if I was trying to cover up something I'd done?” He shook his head in disgust.

I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. I felt like a fool. And a bitch. All he'd done was try to help and I'd thrown wild accusations in his face, accusations I had no right to make.

“I'm sorry,” I whispered. I lifted my hand from the door handle and hesitated before reaching out to touch his leg. He flinched and I drew back, hurt and embarrassed.

“
I'm just trying to help,” he said softly. “That's all I want to do. I just want to help.”

“
I know,” I said. I felt the sting of tears again but these weren't for my sister. “And I'm sorry.”

“
Let me help you,” he said. He looked at me and the anger in his eyes was gone. His gaze burned into me, full of intensity and longing and another emotion I wasn't prepared for, an emotion I didn't deserve.

“
Please,” he said, his voice raw. “Just let me help you.”

The tears spilled on to my cheeks just as he reached for me. He crushed me against his chest, his arms tightening like a vise around me. He buried his face in my hair and I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him tightly to me.

I didn't speak, just held him.

I was still confused and I still had more questions than answers but I realized then that I had something else, too. Something I didn't expect and something I wasn't sure I deserved.

I had Ty.