Emily
She was going to do it. This afternoon while Jared and her father were out and there was no one to stop her. She’d told Shara her plan after Language Arts, and when she couldn’t argue Emily out of it, she sighed and made Emily promise to at least keep in touch and let her know how things went. “I get it. You have to know,” Shara had said. And that was it exactly. She had to know.
Heading out now, she typed to Shara, keeping her promise. Wish me luck.
She didn’t really believe in luck, but she did believe in thinking good thoughts. If you put out negativity into the world, that was what you got back. If you were hit with it yourself—and it didn’t get much worse than your mother murdered and your father suspected—you absorbed it. Radiated it like something radioactive, poisoning people around you. She didn’t want to do that. She hoped Shara’s positive vibes could counter her negative.
Ms. Carla worked from home, though Emily had no clear idea what she did. Something to do with customer service or support or something, but from a home office instead of a call center. So, she’d be home. But what about Andrew? As a senior he was on half-days and usually worked the afternoons, but she had no clue about his work schedule, and she wanted to catch Ms. Carla alone. If she saw Andrew’s car out front, she’d have to abort the plan and try again later.
She never got the chance. The doorbell rang, and when she went to answer it, she was shocked to see Ms. Carla standing there, a disposable lasagna pan covered in foil in her hands.
Her heart started to beat harder. It was go time. Already.
She opened the door, and Ms. Carla offered up the pan. “I made baked ziti for you all. With meat sauce. I thought you might need a good home-cooked meal.”
Trying to take over for their mother already? Pain flared like a fire that had been stoked, but she beat it back. She had to be pleasant. Invite her in. Win her confidence.
“Thank you so much,” she said, taking the tray. It was heavy, and she needed two hands. She cocked her hip to hold open the door. “Do you want to come in? I have something for you too,” she said quickly, before Ms. Carla could form a “no.”
“Oh, okay, thank you,” she answered, surprised.
She held the door to let Emily continue on and entered behind her. Emily stowed the baked ziti in the fridge and turned back. “Can I get you anything to drink? Soda? Water? I’m afraid that’s all we have.”
“No, thank you. We were all so sorry to hear about your Mom. It must be awful for you. Please know that you can come to us for anything.”
Yeah, and you’ll go to the police with it, Emily thought but didn’t say.
“Have the police told you anything at all?” Ms. Carla asked. “Do they have any idea who could have … hurt your mother?”
Her gaze was avid, her hands clenched in front of her. She wasn’t asking out of idle curiosity. Worried about her lover?
“My Dad would know more,” Emily said, studying her with the same intensity. “They’ve spent a lot of time talking to him.”
“So, he’s a suspect?”
“I guess the spouse is always the prime suspect.”
“But there are others?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Have they talked to you?”
Carla clutched at pearls she wasn’t wearing. They weren’t her style. “What would they want with me?”
This was Emily’s moment of truth. Did she slam Carla with what she suspected or take a more circuitous approach? Apparently, her mouth decided for her, unable to wait. Or maybe it was her heart that couldn’t take any more uncertainty.
“Maybe to talk about your relationship with my father.”
Carla took a step back, her face changing. Emily saw guilt flash across it before she got it under control.
“I don’t know what you mean.” But Emily knew she was lying.
Emily went to her backpack on the counter and unzipped the front pocket where the scrunchy was stashed. She turned and tossed the hairband at Carla. “Here, my mother found this.”
Carla let the words strike and the hairband fall to the floor, failing to catch it. For a second there was just shock, and then she said, “But—she told you?”
It hurt, that confirmation. Like a knife to the gut. That Dad had betrayed Mom like that, that he’d lied and snuck around. That he had a motive to get Mom out of the way. Maybe more than one if Mom had life insurance or he didn’t want to pay alimony or share custody. It was crazy, but people had killed before over stuff like that.
“I found out on my own,” Emily said.
“Maybe that’s for the best,” Ms. Carla said, her voice changing now, from the friendly, motherly neighbor to something harder-edged. Emily didn’t understand it. Shouldn’t she still be trying to ingratiate herself with her boyfriend’s family, especially now that they knew?
Emily did her best to keep eye contact, though looking at the woman who’d come between her parents was a sickening thing. “Were you with him that night after Mom left? Can you give him an alibi?”
“I can do better than that,” Ms. Carla said, taking a step forward. Emily didn’t know what it was—something in her eyes or her body language—that made her take a step back, away from the woman she’d known for years, but suddenly it was like someone else was standing there. A complete stranger. She wanted space between them. A lot of space.
She took another step away.…