Down By The Water (19 page)

THIRTY FIVE

A surprise was waiting for me the next morning.

Sheriff Jorgenson was perched on the loveseat in the Reilly's living room, his hat resting on his knee. He looked up when he saw me.

“Lily.”

I nodded cooly, trying to hide my surprise. “Sheriff.”

I'd returned from the Phillips' campsite the previous afternoon and immediately stripped out of my clothes and into Mary's borrowed bathing suit. Ty had joined me and we'd spent the rest of the day at the pool, an uneasy silence between us as we purposely avoided talking about the file or our conversations in the truck. We'd eaten dinner with his parents and Jenna, alternating between silence and stilted conversations, and I'd quickly disappeared afterward, holing myself up in the guest bedroom. Even my sister hadn't bothered to follow me upstairs and I imagined she'd drifted off to spend the night with Sven.

I glanced around the living room and down the hall toward the dining room. It was early—not even nine o'clock—but the house was silent and I wondered where Ty and his parents were.

“Looking for someone?” the sheriff asked.

I returned my gaze to him. “No.”

His knee bounced as he looked me up and down, his expression shrewd.

“
Why are you here?” I asked.

A thin smile appeared. “I'm here to see you.”

“I've already given you my statement,” I told him.

“
I have a few more questions for you.”

I crossed my arms. I knew it was a defensive posture but I couldn't help it. “I already told you. You have more questions you want to ask, I'm getting a lawyer.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You think you need a lawyer? That's interesting.”

The way he said it made my skin crawl and my pulse quicken. “I think I need a lawyer to prevent you from harassing me, Sheriff.”

His knee stilled and his mouth curved into a frown. “Hmm. From what I hear, I'm not the one doing the harassing.”

My pulse sped up and I could feel my heart beat against my ribs. “Excuse me?”

He nodded, his steely gaze locked on me. “You heard me. Looks like you've been asking questions. Questions that are making people uncomfortable.”

“
What the hell are you talking about?” I tried to keep my voice steady but I could hear how I sounded, the pitch of my voice high even to my own ears. “Who said that?”

He answered my question with one of his own. “Why are you asking questions?”

“Who did you talk to?”

Jorgenson stared at me, his expression hard. “I'm the one asking the questions here.”

I took a step back, out of the living room and into the hallway. “I'm not answering them,” I told him. “Not without a lawyer.”

Before he could say another word, I raced back up the stairs and into the guest room. I willed myself to close the door softly, to not let it slam shut and crash against the frame. I sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to calm down.

Who had he spoken to? Had Caroline gone to him and told him we'd requested the file? Or had he somehow found out on his own? Or maybe Cheryl had contacted him, had told him I'd asked to see Annie. I shook my head. I didn't think she would do that. But maybe her husband had seen me, had overheard us talking. Maybe he'd gotten in touch with the sheriff.

My sisters words echoed again and my whole body trembled, the adrenaline and fear coursing through me.

There was a knock at my door and I bolted off the bed. Had he followed me upstairs? Was he ready to arrest me and haul me into his office for questioning?

“
Lily?” It wasn't the sheriff's voice. It was Colin Reilly. Ty's father.

I pushed up from the bed and crossed the room, opening the door for Ty's dad. He was dressed in a navy blue polo and a pair of khakis and I thought once again how much he looked like his son. I eyed him warily. I wasn't in the mood for another fight.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

I forced my head to nod up and down. “Yeah.”

He jerked his head toward the hallway and the stairs that led to the living room. “You sure? I just ran into the sheriff. Said he was here to talk to you.”

I left the bedroom door open and walked back to the bed, flopping down on the comforter. “He was. He just left.”

“I gathered as much.” He stepped into the room just a bit and leaned against the wall. “He looked a little unhappy. Upset.”

I felt a twinge of satisfaction. “Did he?”

“Muttered something about him being the one to ask questions around here.”

I couldn't hide my smile but I did manage to keep my mouth shut and not say anything in response.

“I'm not looking for trouble with the sheriff,” Colin said to me, frowning. “If he has questions for you, I expect you to answer them.”

I bristled. “I am. I did.”

He stared at me, his hazel eyes so very much like his son's. But there was something missing. Tenderness. Concern. His eyes were hard, almost unfeeling.

“
You gotta understand something about the sheriff,” he said. He chewed his lower lip for a moment. “He doesn't take no for an answer.”

“
I answered his questions,” I told him. “I have nothing else to say to him.”

“
I'm sure you did.” He paused. “Your sister.”

I stared at him, confused. “My sister?”

He nodded. “Your sister. That case. It's the only one he hasn't closed. Decades in law enforcement and hers is the only one.”

“
That's because there is no case,” I said bitterly. “It was an accident.” But the word sounded hollow, untrue, even to my own ears. The seeds of doubt that Ty had planted were blossoming.

“
The sheriff doesn't think so,” Colin said. “It's his only open case. Has been his only open case for the past ten years. All the others? He's closed them. But not Rosie's.”

“
Well, maybe he needs to reclassify it. As an
accident
.” I tried to say the word more forcefully, with more conviction.

“
Maybe,” he said. He stared at me. “But you remember that. Maybe that'll help you see why he's dug into this. Why he's dug into you. He told me something the other day. The day of the accident.”

“
What?”

Colin Reilly chewed his lip again, his eyes on me. “He told me he's not giving up. He's closing this case once and for all. And he's not letting you leave town until he does.”

THIRTY SIX

“Get up.”

My sister was sprawled out on Mary's bed, still fully dressed. The smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol hung like a curtain in the room.

“Jenna!”

She rolled over and opened one eye. “Stop yelling at me.”

“Get. Up.”

She curled into a fetal position. “I don't want to.”

I crossed the room and sat down on the bed. I shook her leg. “Come on.”

She moaned and brushed at the hair plastered to her face. She opened her eyes again. “What do you want?”

“I need a ride.”

She yawned, then winced.

“What's wrong?” I asked her, my irritation giving way to concern.

“
My head is fucking pounding,” she muttered, closing her eyes again. “And you won't shut your mouth.”

I rolled my eyes in disgust. There was nothing wrong with her other than a massive hangover. “I need a ride,” I repeated. “Unless you're too drunk to drive.”

“Where's lover boy?” she asked.

I frowned. I didn't know where Ty was. I hadn't seen him since the night before, when we'd all had our awkward dinner together.

“I don't know,” I said. “Probably out doing rounds.”

She yawned again and I pulled back. Her breath reeked of tequila.

“Jesus, Jenna,” I said, disgusted. “You take a bath in a bottle of booze?”

My comment earned a half-smile from my sister. “Almost. Sven likes to lick it off of me.”

I rolled my eyes again. “Too much information.”

It took a considerable amount of effort but she propped herself up on her elbow. “A ride.” She blinked a couple of times, like she was trying to unstick her eyelids. “Where to?”

“I want to check on my car.”

She smiled fully this time. “It's not done.”

“How do you know?”

“
Because I'm sleeping with your mechanic.” She dropped her elbow and her head flopped back on to the bed. “And because I've been keeping him pretty busy.”

I tried to stem my irritation. “Well, I'd at least like a report. See where we're at.”

She flipped on to her stomach. “What does it matter? If it isn't ready, it isn't ready.”

I knew she was right. But I was on edge and I wasn't in the mood to listen to logic or reason. My conversation with the sheriff had set me off and the follow-up visit with Ty's dad had only made matters worse. I felt trapped—not just by circumstance but, based on what had happened that morning, by design, too.

And, like a caged animal, I wanted out.

“
Give me the keys,” I said. “I'll drive myself.”

Jenna snorted. “Shut up. I'll drive you.” Her voice was muffled. “Just give me a minute.”

“I really don't think you should be driving,” I said. “Pretty sure you're still drunk.”

She lifted a hand and raised her middle finger. “And I'm pretty sure you could just call Sven and get an update.”

Even in her half-drunken stupor, she made a good point. I could just pick up the phone. But the house was beginning to feel like a prison, the walls closing in on me. I needed to get out, needed to know that I could still leave when I wanted to. I knew a phone call would get me the answers to the questions I had. But I needed more than answers.

I needed to get the hell out of there. Even if it was just for a little while.

I pinched the back of my sister's leg and she jerked in response. “What the fuck?”

“
Five minutes,” I told her. I stood up and padded across the room, standing in front of the dresser. Jenna's purse sat on top of it and I unzipped it and rummaged around inside. A pack of cigarettes, a tube of lipstick, an opened—and empty—condom wrapper and, finally, a set of car keys. I closed my fingers  around them. “Five minutes and I'm leaving. With or without you.”

THIRTY SEVEN

Jenna sat in the passenger seat, her head thrown back against the head rest, sunglasses shielding her eyes. I backed Kyle's car out of the driveway and steered it toward the road leading out of the resort.

“
I don't even know if he'll be there,” she said.

“
Sven?”

She nodded. “Why wouldn't he be?”

“Because I just dropped him off...” Her voice trailed off as she turned her head to look at the clock on the dashboard. “Three hours ago.”

I shook my head. “Jesus.”

“I know. It was a late night.” She leaned her head back again and smiled. “Again.”

“
Not what I meant.” I waited for a lull in traffic and pulled out onto the highway. “You drove home drunk.”

She didn't say anything.

“Not cool,” I said, hoping she could hear the disgust and disapproval in my voice.

“
I know, I know,” she mumbled.

“
This isn't even your car,” I pointed out. “And what if you'd gotten arrested? Jorgenson already has it in for one of us. Imagine what he'd do to you if you were hauled in for a DUI.”

My eyes were on the road but I still saw her shiver. She didn't like the sheriff any more than I did.

“I know,” she repeated. “It won't happen again.”

“
Damn right it won't.”

We flew past the rows of cornfields, their stalks shimmering like gold in the morning light. A semi truck barreled past us going the opposite direction and Kyle's car shimmied a little. I wondered if we'd be bringing it in to Sven, too.

“What has you so rattled?” my sister asked.

A dozen sarcastic responses were on the tip of my tongue. She knew everything that had gone down over the last few days; why wouldn't I still be frazzled by everything that had happened? I was ready to light into her, to ask her if the alcohol had killed off all the brain cells in her head, but I forced myself to stop. She wasn't the most responsible of people but I was pretty sure I knew what she was doing with Sven and with the heavy drinking.

She was looking for a way to forget.

“
Same old, same old,” I said instead.

“
Is this about the courthouse chick? The girlfriend?”

“
Ex-girlfriend,” I corrected.

She waved her hand at me. “Whatever. Is that what this is all about?”

“No.”

“
You never really told me what went down. What you found out from her.”

The town of Pelican Lake came into view and I immediately slowed down in anticipation of the lower speed limit. I hadn't told my sister about it. About the file. About the bruise. About the lack of evidence. I hadn't told her anything.

“What do you remember about that day?” I asked.

“
What day?”

“
The day Rosie died.”

I felt her stiffen. “What do you mean?”

“You know,” I said. We passed the ice cream stand. The windows were shuttered and a large Closed sign hung in the window. “What do you remember? About her disappearing.”

She was quiet for a minute. “Not much. I was in my tent. Just hanging out. I didn't know anything until you came screaming back into the camp site.”

“Rosie never came in for Candyland?” I tried to remember if Jenna and I had ever had this conversation before. Some memories were crystal clear and some were murky. This was one of the murky ones.

“
No,” she said, shaking her head. “I never saw her.”

“
But you must have heard her,” I said. I flicked the blinker and pulled into the turn lane on the highway, waiting for a car to pass before I crossed the road and pulled into the parking lot of Sven's shop.

“
Nope.”

“
But—”

“
I was listening to music,” she said. “Remember? I had my headphones on. I couldn't have heard anything.”

I did remember. But I knew Rosie had gone for the game. That was the part that didn't make sense. She'd been so insistent about playing it. Why had she never gone into the tent to get it?

“And she didn't come in?” I switched off the ignition and turned in my seat so I was fully facing my sister. “You're sure?”

Jenna stared at me, her eyes hard. “I know what I know, Lily. Rosie never stepped foot in that tent. The last time I saw her, she was with you. The last time I saw her alive, anyway.”

I flinched. Her words stung, regardless of whether she meant them to or not.

She reached for the door handle and pushed her door open. “Why are you asking? Why now?”

I didn't want to tell her. I didn't want to say that I thought of everyone as a suspect. At least all of the people who'd been in Pelican Lake ten years ago and who were here now.

And that, by default, she was included on that list.

I followed her lead and got out of the car, too. “No reason,” I said.

“
I'm on your side, Lily,” she said. “My story is the same now as it's always been. I promise.”

I stared at my half-drunk sister. She looked a little like death warmed over, her hair a tangled mess, her make-up smudged and smeared. She might be fucked up—in more ways than one—but I knew one thing. I knew she was telling me the truth.

“I know,” I said. I tried to smile but I couldn't. “Now let's go figure out what's going on with my car so we can get the hell out of here.”