THIS IS SOMETHING I HAVE TO DO.
Just like what I did That Day was something I had to do.
He hasn’t been in school much. Maybe because he’s getting questioned by the police—I’m sure he’s not talking to anyone about that. He never went to class much before anyway. Why did I like him so much? Was it because of him, or because of Tabby?
I can name the things I like about Dallas. His smile and the way my name turns into a precious dollop when he says it. The certainty of his hands on my back. Beck was just a boy—someone I had gone to school with for most of our lives. Just a boy, always the one getting into trouble, dirty hands from playing outside and a mouth that liked to shock. Beck was just a boy, until there was a girl who decided he was something more, and then I saw him differently, too.
Maybe he’s like Tabby in a lot of ways. Smart. Calculating. Easily bored. She could have been sleeping with him the whole time she was with Mark. Today, I need to know, so I’m going to ask.
I take Mom’s car and drive to the woods after school. He’s sitting on the trunk of a fallen tree right near the south entrance. The leaves crunching under my feet are loud, and Beck turns around. He’s not wearing his leather jacket but an oversized hoodie. “You following me?”
“Hello to you, too. I’m not following you. This is a public place. Anyone can walk here.”
“Doesn’t look like you’re dressed for walking.” He hunches forward and his eyes skirt up my body. My shorts and crop top, his snail-slow gaze a warm trail. Tabby isn’t here and I’m dressing like her, in little ways. A slice of skin. More makeup. I’m not even sure why I’m doing it. Maybe so Beck would look at me the way he is now. We’re alone—no Tabby. I could touch him, or even kiss him, and see how he reacts.
I’m not sure if it’s the fear of rejection or the fear of betraying Tabby that stops me.
“What are the police asking you?” I blurt out. “Do they think you’re involved?” Were you involved?
“It’s just stupid shit.” He takes out a cigarette. “Same stuff they’re asking everyone. I’m not sure what they think, but I don’t really care. Besides, we’re all kind of involved, aren’t we?”
He knows. He knows what I did, and that he’s this involved because of me. My mouth goes dry.
“I guess we are. But they found your footprint. You were here that night.”
He swivels the heel of his boot into the ground. “I wasn’t here. Lots of people have these boots. They just want it to be me because it’s easy. They don’t want to think she was capable of doing it on her own.”
“You think she did it?” It’s something I haven’t even allowed myself to consider, because confronting that pitch-black place in Tabby would mean recognizing it in myself.
“No,” he says. “I don’t. But if she did, she wouldn’t need anyone’s help. We both know Tabby. That girl isn’t in the habit of letting people in.”
We’re both quiet, maybe both considering how far we were let into her orbit, and how much of us lingers there. Tabby and I used to crave the same things, and maybe it was only when she had something that it became worth wanting.
“Do you still love her?” I ask. “Was she cheating on Mark with you?”
He lights the cigarette and takes a long drag. “Maybe I never loved her at all. Maybe we just used each other, same as everyone else.”
He doesn’t answer the second question. I know he isn’t going to. And now I’m thinking about who I used, and who paid the ultimate price.
SHARP EDGES CRIME—
CUT TO THE TRUTH!
October 20, 2019
Tell me about the girls
By Oberon Halton
Everyone seems to think Tabby’s ex, Beck Rutherford, had something to do with Mark Forrester’s murder. Yes, they have a boot print, and yes, the guy seems a little bit dark. But what I’m wondering is, what about the girls closest to Tabby?
Sources at Coldcliff Heights High School reveal that Tabby didn’t have many friends—she mostly spent time with Elle Ross, whose summer party was the setting for the mysterious Beck-Mark altercation before Mark’s death. Where does Elle fit in all of this? Because you’re naive if you don’t think she fits somewhere. Best friends tell each other everything—what has Tabby told Elle?
Then there’s Tabby’s sister, Bridget. I’ve heard sibling loyalty runs deep. And Bridget runs, too. She broke out in her freshman year to get a silver medal in the Colorado State cross-country championship, and is predicted to win the event this year. Rumor has it she knows Queen Anne’s Woods better than anyone. So why is everyone focused on Beck Rutherford when there are two totally more plausible suspects right in front of their faces?