Positively Morbid, page 9
“So I’m feeling pretty weird about Ryan and Adam dying the way they did right about now.”
Balderas nodded slowly and tilted her head. “I ran your name,” she said. “Or rather, Officer Connelly did. We didn’t see anything like that.”
There was a note of challenge in her voice. Parker supposed that sometimes people made up elaborate lies to feel involved with an investigation. But that wasn’t her.
“All that happened on the other side of the country,” Parker said. “And I changed my name, because I was sick and tired of being—” She stopped. She hadn’t planned to mention Britt, but if she was giving her real name, she had to, because it would come out, anyway.
Parker took a deep breath. “There was another murder, a third murder. When I was in high school. It was all over the papers and social media. Even though I was a minor, my name got out. I was a suspect for a little while.”
“I see,” Balderas said, sitting back in her chair. She tapped her pen thoughtfully against her cheek.
“I wanted you to know about Mrs. Gilford and my mother, because you’re going to find out, anyway. I mean, you would, wouldn’t you? You would have sent Officer Mays back to do more than a quick Google search, right? After Adam?”
“Yeah,” she said. “We would have figured it out. It is better coming from you. Thank you.”
“So, I’m kind of freaked out,” Parker said. “I mean, am I crazy? Or is this too much coincidence?”
Balderas grimaced. “I’m sorry you’ve come across so many deaths. And we will check all leads. But I will say, this burglary; it wouldn’t surprise me if it’s an addict looking for something quick and easy to sell. Your friend was an old man. Maybe they thought he would be easy to intimidate.”
Parker looked down at her hands twisting in her lap. She wanted to argue. Those cottages didn’t look like they had anything worth stealing, but she knew sometimes that made no difference. But what about Pepper? Thieves hated dogs.
She kept her mouth shut. It was true, it could have been a random burglary gone wrong, just like Ryan’s death could have happened for any number of reasons, the duct tape a coincidence. But Parker no longer believed it. Of course, she hadn’t told Balderas about the lavender incident. But the lavender didn’t count for anything, now that Calli had confessed.
Balderas seemed to read the trend of Parker’s thoughts. She sighed. “Do you think someone is targeting you by killing people around you?”
“I’m trying not to be paranoid. But I don’t know,” Parker said.
Balderas nodded. “Generally, crime’s a lot more straightforward. How could anyone have known that you’d be the one to find Adam Reese’s body, or even Ryan Bennett’s body last night? And those little cottages there, they get burglarized quite a bit, even though they look low end. They’re close to a couple of bars, and the beach access, and a few of them are vacation rentals, so they’re easy pickings for someone looking to grab a TV or some household goods. Generally no security.”
“You really think it might have been a random break in?”
“I don’t know yet, Parker. Or—what is your original name?”
“Corey. Coral Jantzen. Parker was my mum’s maiden name, and I borrowed the last name from a boy I liked in second grade. But call me Parker. I’ve gotten used to it. Corey was a different person.”
“Okay. Parker. I promise, we’ll keep an open mind. Have you talked to anyone else about this? Have you told your boss or a friend?”
“No! I mean, no, of course not. All I did was call 911!”
“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, about your past. It’s got to be really hard for you, finding a body, it’s got to bring up terrible memories. Do you have someone to talk to?” She regarded Parker with tired kindness.
Parker’s throat closed up, but she forced herself to answer. “It was all a long time ago. I’ve learned to cope.” She could hear the defensiveness in her voice.
“I have no doubt you’re good at coping. But my recommendation for you is to get some extra help. You just lost a friend.” She stood.
Parker stood up too, nonplussed. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected after sharing her past. More than mere acknowledgment, anyway. “What am I supposed to do?” she said.
“We’ll need you to make an official statement. Officer Mays will sit down with you now. If I have any further questions, I’ll let you know.”
“I can just go do my laundry after?” Parker asked.
“Sure, honey, if that’s what you want.” Balderas ushered her out.
Chapter Eight
Parker left a witness statement with Officer Mays and refused a ride home. It was getting dark, but she needed air and motion and solitude. At the main road, she waited for the crosswalk, numbly watching cars full of people out for Saturday night fun whiz past.
Was Adam’s mother or sister or daughter getting the bad news now? Did he have a brother, a cousin, a son? She knew none of that, only that if he had family, he hadn’t mentioned them in their few conversations. She’d appreciated how he never pried into her life; she hadn’t noticed how little he shared of himself.
And what about Pepper? Could she keep him out of the animal shelter? Mouse was gentle, quiet, and apartment-friendly by nature, which was fortunate because Parker’s dog-training skills were nil, beyond knowing consistency and rewards were good. What that translated to when you were trying to calm a thirty-pound bundle of Pepper, she had no idea. Maybe Mouse could do the training.
If Marta learned Parker was harboring another dog, it would be a strike against her. Marta had turned on her so quickly when Calli lied, and just because she was currently happy with Parker’s eagerness to please didn’t mean she’d give her the benefit of the doubt moving forward.
As Parker neared Tyler Bettering, her steps slowed. She couldn’t think about laundry when Adam had just been killed. But her laundry still needed doing. It was going to sit there in her car, getting funkier with each passing hour, until she did it.
Adam had been a fixture of the beach. His death engendered a bone-deep angst in Parker that she could not define or settle with. Beyond that, memories of Mrs. Gilford were bubbling up, not just the horror of finding her body but the things Parker had loved about her: her exotic seashells, her homemade gingersnaps, her crotchety cat. Her kind and patient voice, gone from Parker’s life and the world too soon.
Breathe, Parker told herself. Grief is normal.
She’d had the chance to know them both. It was something to be grateful for.
Bile rose, and she swallowed down acid. She stopped where she was on the sidewalk and tilted her head back to look at the overcast sky, pulling in a long breath until her lungs ached. Was her whole life going to be like this? Desperately clinging to rote positivity while lives crumbled around her?
She pushed that line of thought away. She wasn’t going to veer off course again by sabotaging her own efforts to become happier. Leaning toward positivity was a mindset choice, not denial. And all this darkness was not her whole life. It was just a really crappy couple of days for her. For Ryan and Adam…it had been an ending.
Screw the laundry. Parker would take Pepper and Mouse for a long run on the beach—or at least a long walk. She wasn’t sure what Pepper’s capabilities were. On the way home, she’d pick up dinner, and they could all cuddle on the couch, and Parker would light candles for Adam and Ryan. And for her mother, and Mrs. Gilford, and Britt, too. All of the dead who had been on her mind.
Laundry could wait until tomorrow.
It seemed like an excellent plan until she noticed the guy leaning against a truck parked a few doors down from TBI’s side entrance. Her heart jumped before she consciously recognized him.
It was Jess. Jesse Wyatt Harper, Parker’s friend, and her late best friend’s ex-boyfriend. The guy she’d fallen in love with and stayed in love with, despite everything, before, during, and after Britt’s disappearance. In the warped mirror of the investigation, the relationship had looked suspicious to the cops, to the news media, eventually even to their friends. But neither had cared, because it was real and everything else stank of bullshit.
Neither cared, to a point.
“Jess,” she said aloud, succeeding in a tone of perfect neutrality.
He straightened, slipping his phone in his pocket, and faced her. Uneven light from the windows of the Institute and the streetlight above picked out the angles of his face. He looked older, which was only fair, since it had been eight years. He’d settled into his looks, becoming more handsome. Parker stopped herself from running a hand through her wind-blown hair.
“Corey,” he said, and held out his arms. His grandfather’s wedding band still glittered on the ring finger of his right hand, in honor of the man who’d raised him.
“I don’t go by that name anymore,” she said, but gave him a quick, awkward hug anyway.
“Oh, right, you told me that,” he said. “What is it, again?”
“Parker. My mom’s maiden name, as you so astutely remembered.”
“Right.” He smiled. “I’ll try to adjust. It’s great to see you.”
She swallowed. “You got here fast. I didn’t think you’d make it until tomorrow evening.”
“Yeah, I didn’t stop for much. I’m starving, actually. I didn’t have lunch and now it’s almost dinner time.”
He paused, obviously waiting for her to take the hint. Instead, she said, “I need to take the dogs for a walk. Do you want to meet me after? There are plenty of places to grab a bite around here. You can just text me where you end up.”
His face shuttered. “Um, no. I’ll eat later. I’d rather come with you if that’s okay. What I have to say is important.”
She opened her mouth, trying to figure out a way to turn him down. She didn’t need anything else on her plate right now. The wind was low, the tide was low, and starry purple sky showed through holes in the clouds. It was the balm her soul needed, that and watching the cavorting of the dogs.
But he was right. It was probably best just to get it over with. “Fine. Where are you staying?”
“I figured there’d be a hotel room around. There were plenty of vacancy signs.” He shrugged. “Do you think I should figure that out now?”
“No, I just didn’t want to break the bad news that I have no space later, when you’re even more exhausted. I live at the resort where I work, but my apartment’s pretty small, and I share it with a dog. Come on up, we’ve got to get them, anyway.”
He followed her through the staff entrance, and they climbed the four flights of stairs. “How many dogs did you say?”
“I’m taking care of an extra dog for a friend who died. It’s temporary,” she said quietly, knowing how thin the doors were. Chances were her fellow staff members were out and about on this unexpectedly free Saturday night, but you never could tell.
Pepper heard them coming. His yips echoed down the stairwell, and Parker bit her lip. “Pepper, hush,” she called in a semi-whisper, but he didn’t stop. She took the stairs two at a time.
Pepper leaped from the back of the loveseat when Parker opened the door and scrambled toward her. Parker lifted him into her arms, where he switched from yipping to licking. She looked into his soft brown eyes, wondering what was going on in his doggie brain. Did he know his person was gone forever?
Mouse ambled over to investigate Jess, who stepped in and closed the door. Parker could feel him studying the small space, the lack of decoration beyond the hotel-like decor that had come with the place.
“What’s your name?” he said, as he scratched Mouse’s jaw.
“Mouse, Pepper, this is Jess,” Parker said.
“Good to meet you both. I’m guessing the peppy one is Pepper? Even though the other one is more pepper-colored?”
“You got it. Mouse is named for her temperament, as in quiet-as-a.”
Now that Pepper had calmed, Parker put him down, and he joined the new-person-greeting-party until Jess rose to his feet.
“You look the same,” he said. “I mean, a little older. A little wiser. But pretty much the same.”
Wiser, calmer, and more compassionate, Parker thought. She hoped. “We’ve both aged almost a decade,” she said. “And I’m guessing it wasn’t the easiest decade for either of us.”
“No.”
She sighed. “Okay. Give me a couple minutes to put on something a little warmer for the beach. Then we’ll take these two for walkies, and you can tell me whatever’s so important.”
She immediately regretted saying walkies. Mouse disdained baby-talk, but Pepper was all about it and the yipping began again.
****
Ten minutes later, they left by the outside stairs. Jess took deep breaths of brisk salt air and looked out to the horizon, where the ocean was darker than the sky. Parker had grabbed a flashlight to navigate the stairs, but there was enough ambient light that they should be fine without it on the beach.
Just last night, Ryan had died at the bottom of this cliff, but the crime scene tape was already gone and most of the driftwood that had hidden the body had been scattered. No one, living or dead, lay in wait in the under-stair cave, and her shoulders relaxed as they reached the sand.
They turned south. There were no other beach walkers in sight, but Parker wasn’t sure how well Pepper would listen in the presence of temptation, so she kept him leashed although Mouse ran free.
Jess remained quiet. Possible conversation starters ran through Parker’s mind, but most of them sounded angry or bitter. Finally she said, “So, I’m really surprised to see you. I can’t believe there’s anything important left to say that couldn’t have been better said years ago. What are you doing here, Jess?”
She’d tried to forgive him. She’d tried to forgive herself. When she thought of them as kids caught up in Britt’s horrible death, she felt compassion for them both, but a layer of resentment remained under the surface. He hadn’t stood by her when she needed him.
He raised his eyes from his feet with a pained look. “Corey. Parker. I know it’s you.”
****
Parker halted and stared at Jess. This was it. This was the betrayal she’d been reeling from for years, said face to face for the first time.
At the end of his leash, Pepper jerked to a stop with a squeal before sitting disconsolately at her feet. Parker ignored him.
“You really believe that?” she asked, voice surprisingly calm. For a while, she and Jess had been the number one suspects in Britt’s death, at least according to the less scrupulous corners of the internet. It made a good story—Britt and Jess had a volatile on-again, off-again relationship. Britt refused to believe it was over—and suddenly she was gone and Jess and Corey were together every moment. It wasn’t what actually happened, but it was believable, and apparently there were various social media photos that convinced people they knew the truth better than the police. Corey’s ‘triumphant’ smile. Jess’s ‘hostile’ eyes.
They hadn’t kidnapped or killed her, of course, not together and not separately. They had both loved her. Until one last interview, Corey believed Jess knew that as well as she did.
Jess said, “Parker, just tell me. You’ve been sending the letters, the postcards. I already know.”
It was so far from what she was expecting, she barely managed a single word. “What?”
His jaw tightened visibly, fighting down whatever retort was about to come out. Finally he said, “Please, don’t play dumb. It has to be you. I don’t know why you’re doing it, but it’s time to stop.”
Parker shook her head. “I’m serious, Jess. Whatever you’re talking about, it wasn’t me. I have literally no idea what you mean.”
He studied her face. “It has to be you,” he repeated desperately. “I didn’t think you would do something like that, and I resisted believing it for a long time. I guess you’re punishing me, or working out your own issues. I don’t know. But it’s got to stop.”
Parker grimaced. Yes, she had issues, and she’d done plenty of stupid things to work them out, but sending letters to Jess was not one of them.
Before she could respond, Pepper pulled on the leash with such abandon that his eyes bugged out. Parker took pity and started walking. The breeze blew lightly, cooling the heat in her cheeks.
Finally she said, “I really didn’t send you anything. I haven’t kept track of you since I left. I didn’t want to know what you were up to. At first I wanted you to come after me, and beg me to come back. But I gave up on you a long time ago.”
He was silent. When she looked over, his head was bowed, hands in his pockets.
Parker asked, “Were they postmarked from Oregon? Is that why you thought—?”
“No! They talked about our relationship. Personal stuff.”
“What do you mean?”
“‘Your kisses were sweet but your heart was black,’ that kind of thing.”
Parker snorted. “What the heck? That doesn’t sound like anything I would ever say. It sounds like someone didn’t want to believe you were innocent. We got used to that a long time ago, remember? Why would you think that was me?”
“‘Your kisses were sweet?’ It has to be someone I kissed. Someone who thinks I wronged them. And Britt is dead, so that leaves you. All this time, I’ve been sure it was you.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. You haven’t kissed anyone since I left? I find that a little hard to believe.”
“I’ve had relationships, but nothing serious. You and Britt…I haven’t had any other relationships nearly as intense. On purpose.”
Parker met his eyes. “You know my handwriting,” she reminded him. “And they can’t be in my handwriting, because they’re not from me.”
“No, they’re in block letters. Even the postcards. But, Parker, they mention where we used to meet. What we used to get up to.”
What they used to get up to…wandering in the woods at night, looking for signs of Britt in the last place they’d seen her—and also delighting in their desire for each other. In the woods, in the shed behind the elementary school, in Jess’s truck.
