Fear is a gymnast somersaulting up and down my bones.
My only chance to avoid further questioning from the police – and I’ve been down that road, so I know I don’t want to go down it again – is to make this young officer not want to look into me at all, and hope I get lucky.
‘I’m staying with my grandparents for the summer,’ I tell him, like I have nothing to hide. I give details about their address and how long they’ve had a summer home here without him needing to ask.
‘I’ve been meaning to come and spend time with them forever but, see, I’m from the East Coast? Manhattan?’ I make it a question, as if he’s never heard of New York City, and put a hand on my hip and wave the other in the air. ‘And I have friends who always have amazing stuff – I mean, like, amazing stuff – to do all summer, and so I’ve been really, really bad about my grandparents, you know? They’re not going to be around forever –’ I duck my head down as if even mentioning death is somehow impolite – ‘and finally I realized what was important in my life, you know? Because, for me, my family is way more important than going to the Hamptons. In the long run, anyway. Although you do meet the best people there – not that this isn’t great too, but the Hamptons are on a different level, you know?’
I see him deflate after I turn stupid and chatty, like the thrill is gone now that I’m no longer a challenge. I keep going, telling him about how Aura-Blue and Mila invited me to join them volunteering at the shelter, and of course I was excited for the opportunity to help people less fortunate. Oh, and by the way, did the young officer know Aura-Blue? Her grandfather was the local sheriff for years. No? What a shame.
By the time I’m done with Officer Longmire, he can’t wait to disentangle himself from the self-important asshole who obviously couldn’t be hiding anything because she didn’t stop talking about her meaningless life for a solid fifteen minutes.
‘I really hope you find out what happened to Sandy,’ I say as Officer Longmire tries for a third time to break away from me. I lower my voice like Grandma does when she’s talking about druggies. ‘Was it an overdose?’
‘There’s no indication of that as of right now,’ the officer replies, desperate to get away from me.
‘Really?’ My voice solidifies from the breathy, girly tone I’ve adopted, as I’m momentarily shocked back into my real self. ‘Then how did she die?’
Longmire closes off. ‘We’re still looking into it,’ he replies.
‘Is there a connection between Sandy and the woman from out of state??
?
His face freezes. I rock back on my heels, his answer implicit, and the officer realizes his mistake.
‘There’s no official connection between the deaths of Sandy Crosby and Chelsea Oliver at this time,’ he says curtly. So, yeah, there definitely is. ‘Let Maria know I stopped by and that I’ll be back to speak to the rest of the staff.’
‘Oh, certainly, Officer. Maria will be here tomorrow morning,’ I say in that chirping, girly voice again.
After Officer Longmire leaves, Gina seems to magically appear out of thin air.
‘You’re good,’ she tells me. ‘Talking a whole lotta nothing.’
I smile at Gina with narrowed eyes. ‘Hiding in the office?’ I ask in return. Gina’s completely plucked and redrawn-in eyebrows make her look permanently surprised. People without their real eyebrows are harder to read, I realize.
‘I don’t talk to police,’ she tells me. She looks away, and I feel the sadness in her more than hear it or see it. ‘But I do hope they find whoever murdered Sandy.’
‘He never said mur—’ I start to say, but Gina’s eye-roll stops me.
‘Be careful out in those woods,’ she warns. ‘Some crazy bastards out there.’
I sputter for a moment, surprised.
‘Like who?’ I call after her.
‘Like Dr Goodnight,’ she says over her shoulder. The way she says it makes me laugh nervously.
She’s joking. Is she joking? Dr Goodnight sounds like a mattress store. Or a Stephen King novel. I think it is a Stephen King novel – no, wait, that’s Doctor Sleep. Whatever. She’s definitely trying to get me to bite, saying ‘Dr Goodnight’ in a low, ominous voice. I shake my head in frustration and go to my station to start work.
Rachel’s there. Waiting for me. She’s stretched out over my chopping block, dripping blood. I shut my eyes tight, and when I open them again, she’s gone, but a girl in a hospital gown lies on the floor. I never saw Zlata’s body, I think in an offhand way. It’s not that my ghosts are coming for me. They never left. I knew they were there, but the drugs made it so I couldn’t see them. Couldn’t deal with them. Now I don’t have much of a choice.
But Zlata is dead, and I know what I see is not really her. Since this is not the right time or place, I banish the image, pick up my knife, and start slicing peppers long and thin for fajitas.
Maria arrives and calls us all to the circle. At the end of Serenity Prayer, Gina decides to share something.
‘The police stopped by. Found out Sandy was killed. It wasn’t no OD,’ Gina says out of the side of her mouth.
A low rumble goes around the circle. Breaths puff in and out of Gina, and her voice comes out strangled so she doesn’t shout.