Two Sides to Every Murder, page 22
Andie’s been holding tight to my arm, but the moment Officer Knight aims that arrow at me, I feel her nails dig into my skin.
“Run,” she hisses. “I’ll make sure you get away. I’ll—”
I’m already shaking my head. “I’m not leaving you here!”
“Neither of you are going anywhere,” Officer Knight says. “Out here, now.”
Her voice doesn’t leave any room for argument. I feel my body obey, even as my head is screaming at me to go. Moving as slowly as I possibly can, I rise from my crouch and put one foot in front of the other, crossing the space to stand beside Reagan. Even moving as slowly as I am, this feels like it happens in an instant. It’s like time is glitching, rocketing forward when all I want in the world is for it stop, to slow, to reverse.
“Wait,” Andie says from the stairway. She looks at me, her expression ragged, then crosses the room to Officer Knight. “I’ll say I did it. I’ll admit to all of it, I swear. Just let them go. Please.”
I stare at Andie, shocked. I’ve never heard her like this before. She’s always been so composed. But now she sounds utterly destroyed.
Officer Knight studies us for a moment, seeming to consider this before she shakes her head. “I’m sorry, but no. Having this many witnesses is trouble. Eventually one of you will talk.”
“We won’t,” Andie says.
“Shut up,” Officer Knight snarls. She turns back to Reagan, seeming to have made her decision. “Does a double-murder suicide work for you?”
I look at Reagan, hating her, and that’s when I notice her eyelid twitch. I don’t think anyone else noticed it, but I have Reagan’s face, and I recognize that twitch because it happens to me, too. My eyelid twitches like that whenever I’m nervous.
Or when I’m lying.
Andie’s shoulders have slumped, and she’s crying silently. So she doesn’t see when Reagan glances at me. It’s just a subtle flick of her eyes, and I think I see her chin move a hair to the left, and then a hair to the right. She’s shaking her head. It’s such a small, nothing movement that my brain immediately starts explaining it away, telling me I imagined it, that it wasn’t real. But I know it was. It had to be.
It means: Don’t say a word.
I nod at her. It’s the same subtle movement, just the slightest incline of my chin, but I know that Reagan will see and understand what I’m telling her.
You can trust me.
Reagan looks back at Officer Knight. She steps forward and moves to the side, so that she’s standing directly in front of her. And then she sticks out her hand. “Shake on it.”
Officer Knight looks at her, skeptical, then holds out her hand, too. Their hands clasp—
I figure out Reagan’s plan a fraction of a second after she puts it into motion. It’s the way she angled herself to be directly in front of Officer Knight. From where I’m standing, I can see that this was intentional, that she’s lined up her body—and Officer Knight’s body—so that they’re right in front of the window.
I think of what Sawyer said this morning when he was telling us all the camp rules.
The most important rule is that you don’t go up in the old lighthouse. Some of the windows are broken, and it’s easy to fall…
I feel a catch in my throat when I figure it out.
Reagan grasps Officer Knight’s hand in her own, and then she jerks forward with a grunt, throwing her shoulder directly into her chest, knocking her off-balance.
I see an instant before she does it that it won’t work. Officer Knight is too broad, too steady, and Reagan’s my size—small and lightweight. She’s not going to be able to overpower her, even by taking her off guard. The second this information hits my brain, my body springs into motion. I’m crossing the tower, throwing my weight behind my sister’s.
Together, we do what neither one of us would’ve been able to do on our own: we knock Officer Knight off-balance. She takes a quick step backward, and the safety rail hits her just below the knees. I watch her legs buckle and her arms windmill. The bow and arrow clatter to the floor.
Her eyes go wide when she realizes that she’s not going to be able to regain her balance. There’s a slap as her body slams into the cardboard covering the broken window, and then the cardboard splits open—
And she falls.
26
Reagan
We climb down from the lighthouse together and, the whole time, I’m thinking to myself, She’s not going to be there, her body’s going to be gone, she’s still alive, she’s waiting for us. Like Officer Knight is a serial killer in a movie and this is the beginning of a franchise. Like I’m going to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, waiting for her to jump out from behind a bush.
But when we step out of the lighthouse and into the cool, woodsy night air, there she is, splayed, spread-eagled across the rocky shore of the lake, water tugging at her legs.
Dead.
I’m so relieved I almost start sobbing. It’s over. This nightmare is finally over.
The feeling only lasts a moment, long enough for me to remember leaving Jack in the woods. A little sob hiccups out of me.
“Jack,” I say, turning to Olivia. “He got shot. He…”
“We found him,” Olivia says quickly. “Hazel, too. They’re on their way to the hospital right now.”
I’m so relieved I want to scream. It takes everything I have to choke the emotion back down, and when I finally speak, my voice is quiet. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” Olivia says. Then, like an afterthought, she adds, “Family takes care of each other.”
“Right,” I say, taking her hand. “I think I always knew that.”
* * *
• • •
We called the police again before Olivia and Andie helped me climb down from the tower. We explained what happened with Officer Knight as best we could and asked them to send an ambulance and more officers. I have one arm around Andie’s shoulder and one around Olivia’s, still waiting for the cops to arrive when I see movement just past the trees. Not an ambulance or a police cruiser; a car.
Olivia says, “Who is that?”
I follow her gaze. It looks like Jack’s dad’s car, but the tall, thin figure in the driver’s seat doesn’t look like Henry. I frown into the darkness just beyond the headlights, trying to make sense of the dark, messy hair, the sharp shoulders…
My stomach drops.
“Oh crap,” I mutter, hobbling away from Andie and Olivia.
It’s my mom.
I feel a jolt go through me. I’m not ready to face her. I’m not ready to hear what she has to say about everything I learned tonight, all the secrets she’s been hiding from me for the past sixteen years. But it seems that I don’t have a choice because Lori Knight has barely even pulled the truck to a complete stop before she throws the driver’s side open and leaps out.
I thought seeing her would feel different, but it doesn’t. She’s still the mom I’ve known my whole life, the only mom I’ve ever known. Tall and thin, her gray hair dyed so dark it’s almost black, wearing a soft, threadbare flannel that I already know will smell like burnt gas station coffee and the oranges she eats every morning for breakfast. My mom.
I’m not ready for this.
Lori slams the door closed. The road she drove up twists around the eastern side of the lighthouse, and Officer Knight’s body lies to the west, so she doesn’t see her, but her eyes sweep warily over Andie and Olivia. I see the moment she recognizes my twin, her sharp inhale, the flickering of her eyelids.
Her gaze moves back to me. “Reagan,” she says. There’s a breathlessness to her ordinarily soft voice. I start to hobble toward her, but she crosses the clearing and sweeps me into a bone-crushing hug before I can take more than two steps. “You have no idea how worried I was. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Mom,” I moan against her flannel.
“I was so worried about you,” she says again, squeezing me tighter. I don’t remember how many times she’s held me like this, crushing me to her like I was the most important thing in her world. A lump forms in my throat.
Then, releasing me, she adds in a low, urgent whisper, “We have to go, it isn’t safe—”
“It’s okay, Lori,” Andie says, coming up to us. Her eyes flick from me to my mom. I go still, watching them watch each other. My mom breathes a soft swear word and closes her eyes, tears already trailing down her cheeks.
When she finally opens them and looks at me, all she says is “Does this mean you know the truth?”
I stare at her, my eyes blurring. I’d been telling myself there had to be another explanation, that my mom never would’ve kidnapped me. I’m her daughter. I don’t know who I am if I’m not her daughter.
But all it takes is one look at her face, the resignation in the lines around her mouth, the way she’s looking at me so intently, wanting to make sure I’m okay. It tells me everything. The woman who took care of me, who nurtured me for sixteen years, who raised me, she’s not who I thought she was. She’s not my mom.
“No—” I say, my voice breaking. I want to unknow this. “Mom, no, it’s not true, tell me it’s not…”
But I can’t make any more words come, and I trail off, my voice cracking too badly to continue. Second chance, I think. Fresh start. Finally, I understand what she was saying, all this time.
“We can’t stay here, Reagan,” My mom—no, not my mom, my grandma—grabs both my shoulders, so I have no choice but to look at her. “I’ll tell you everything, we just—”
“I’m not going anywhere until I know the truth,” I snap, pulling away from her.
Mom swallows. “I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you for months now,” she says in a low, urgent voice. “Ever since that stupid podcast came out. You deserve to know the truth, and you deserve more than this.” She motions around her, as though to indicate the camp, her history, every horrible thing that’s happened to us in the last year. “More than a life on the run.”
I’m shaking my head, tears falling freely down my cheeks. “I don’t understand,” I say. My voice is choked, raspy. “Did you just…take me?”
“I was taking you to the hospital,” she explains. “You weren’t breathing right when you were born. You didn’t cry, and we were worried there was something wrong with your lungs, so I told Andie I’d take you to the hospital while she waited here with your sister.
“But then, when I got down from the lighthouse, I saw Officer Knight kneeling over Gia’s body. I didn’t understand what I was looking at. It was surreal and…well, I think I must’ve been in shock. I asked her what happened and—I’ll always remember this part exactly—Karly looked at me and said, like she didn’t even hear me, ‘Lori, what did you do?’ ”
“That’s when I looked down and saw that she was holding Jacob’s bow and that horrible mask. And I realized what she’d done, and that she was going to try and make sure I took the blame.”
“Mom,” I breathe, shocked.
“And then you started crying.” Mom smiles a little, remembering. “I don’t think Karly realized I was holding a newborn until you started screaming like that. Jacob must’ve told her about the babies because she seemed to realize right away that you were Matthew’s. She stood and sort of reached for her gun and I—” Mom closes her eyes, like the memory is too much for her. “I still have nightmares about that moment, how she reached for her gun like that. That’s the most terrified I’ve ever been in my life. I knew she was going to kill you, just like she killed Gia. All I could think about was getting you away from her. I didn’t know what she was capable of. She’d already killed one little girl and…” Her grip on my arms tightens, still afraid, even now. “Reagan, I was so scared for you.”
Tears pool in the corners of my eyes. I don’t want to cry, not until I hear the rest of her story, but my body doesn’t listen. I blink, hard, trying to hold myself together. “Did…did you take me to the hospital?”
Mom shakes her head. “By the time I got you to the car it was clear that your lungs were fine. And I remember thinking that she’d be able to find you at the hospital, that I needed to hide you, so I took you to Henry’s instead. I didn’t find out that she’d already killed Jacob and Matthew until much later that night.” Her voice cracks, and she closes her eyes, tears leaking down her cheeks. “I knew then that I’d made the right decision. She was a monster. I had to keep you hidden, no matter what.”
“Why didn’t you tell someone about her?” I want to know. “You could have stopped her.”
“I didn’t know how,” Mom admits. “They found my DNA on Jacob’s bow, and they were saying the blood at the top of the lighthouse was a match for Matthew’s. Everything was pointing to me. I realized Karly must’ve planted it, that she’d twisted all the evidence so it looked like I did it. It felt like I had two choices. I could either stay and fight the charges, or I could take you far away from that woman and protect you.” Mom opens her eyes, smiling at me. “And I chose you. I never regretted it for a second. You were my second chance at having a family, my fresh start. I knew I was going to have to tell you everything eventually, but I didn’t know how…I didn’t know how to give you up.”
“You don’t have to give me up. You’re my mom.” As soon as I say the words, I realize they’re true. It doesn’t matter what our biology is. She’s the only mom I’ve ever known.
She pulls me close, hugging me tight. “There’s so much of him in you, so much of my Matthew. I’ve always loved you like a daughter. You have to understand that.”
I open my mouth, but it takes me a moment to find the right words. Just a few hours ago everything had seemed so simple. But so much is different now. Everything I thought I knew is tumbling around inside my head, arranging and rearranging itself until I don’t know what’s true anymore.
My mom isn’t really my mom. She lied to me my whole life. Matthew wasn’t my brother; he was my father. There’s so much pain and loss in this clearing that it’s almost too much to bear.
I came here to learn the truth, but the truth was so much more complicated than I ever thought it could be. Maybe family’s like that, too.
I pull back, planning to tell my mom all of this. The lights interrupt me. They’re red and blue and flashing: police lights. The cops have come. Finally.
My mom swivels toward the trees, fear seeming to completely take over her. “I have to go,” she says, swallowing hard. “Before they get here. They can’t find me—”
“Lori, no,” Andie says, turning to her. “I know I’m sixteen years too late, but I’m going to make this right. I’m prepared to come forward and tell the cops everything I know about what happened the night of the murders.”
Mom looks confused. “But Karly—”
“She’s dead,” I say. I shift to the side, pulling my mom around so that she can finally see Officer Knight’s body, still splayed across the rocky shore below the lighthouse. “She fell from the top of the lighthouse. She can’t hurt us anymore.”
Mom’s still staring at Officer Knight, shocked and horrified, when I say the words I’ve been dreaming of saying for the last year. “We don’t have to run anymore. We finally know the truth.”
Three
Months
Later...
27
Olivia
Reagan stands in front of the mirror hanging from the back of my closet, every item of clothing I own spread in heaps on the floor around her. She stares at a reflection that looks just like my own, and then she adjusts the hem of her shirt so it doesn’t bunch around her waist.
My twin sister.
I can’t stop thinking those words. Even now, three months after I first learned of her existence, they’re still so surreal.
Reagan turns to me, frowning. “What do you think about this?” She motions to her loose-fitting, white tank top and ripped jeans.
I tilt my head, trying to decide how to put this. It’s still a little tricky to figure out how to talk to her. We’re not completely comfortable around each other yet. We’re still feeling each other out, trying to figure out when we need to be tactful and when it’s okay to just tell the truth, even if it comes off as mean.
“Well…it depends,” I say after a moment.
Her eyebrows disappear beneath a swoop of bangs. “On…?”
“On whether or not you’re trying to look like a serial killer’s daughter who spent the last year living in a truck, or if that’s unintentional.”
Reagan snatches a flip-flop off the floor and throws it at me, but she’s laughing, so I guess I chose right. She must not be trying to hit me because the shoe smacks into the wall behind me, a good two feet from my head.
“I’m pretty sure that joke isn’t funny yet,” she says, turning back to her reflection. She’s wrong; it totally is.
There’s cool wind coming in through the open window, carrying the smell of the fireplace, reminding me it’s almost autumn. It’s a sunny day at the beginning of September, the first day of senior year, a whole summer since the night at Camp Lost Lake when my whole life blew apart and then came back together in a different and, arguably, more interesting way.
Things aren’t back to normal, but they’re probably as close as they’re ever going to get again. Lori’s hired a lawyer and is in the process of fighting the Camp Lost Lake murder charges. We’re all a little nervous about what’s going to happen—the case against her is very strong, and the fact that she ran doesn’t look great. But because of the new evidence being submitted, Andie’s eyewitness testimony, Gia’s camera footage, and Reagan’s statement about her encounter with Officer Knight, the lawyer thinks she has a fantastic shot at having the charges dropped
