I WOKE UP TO A CAR pulling into the driveway. Tony parked his rusty Chevy and walked to the rock pile. I quickly dressed and met him there. The rock pile had been carefully disassembled by the CSI team, and Tony solemnly reflected on the scene. “Mandy’s body was pretty decomposed, but covering it with rocks kept the animals from getting to it. Her neck was broken. I think it’s safe to say that it happened in a struggle. Whoever did this didn’t break any bones, other than her neck. She probably didn’t intend to kill her.”
I told Tony, “Sometimes I wonder if Mandy called my name that night. I woke up to something, but I didn’t hear any more after that. Maybe it’s my brain trying to fill in, after the fact.”
“A false memory.” Tony looked out into the field. “I know you think all these attacks are related, but I don’t believe that. I think Mandy’s death, ten years ago, is separate from the assault of Brittany, as well as the attempt on your life.”
“I feel like I’m missing something obvious, so I keep recounting everything that happened ten years ago,” I said. “My parents were going through bankruptcy. What if my parents owed money to whoever killed Mandy, and he threw her on our land just to create misery for our family?”
Tony thought hard for a few long minutes. “I doubt it. This murder was about Mandy.”
“I think the murder was about Mandy, too. But maybe there’s a separate reason she ended up on our land. She didn’t walk there— she was too afraid of the absolute darkness out here. Someone picked her up and drove her to our farm from the Bell home.”
Tony looked straight at me. “Open your eyes! Serena is the reason Mandy Baker ended up on your land. She was with her. She resented her. She led the police to her body. What more do you need? Wouldn’t it be more likely Serena struck her in the heat of an argument, than Serena just fell asleep? Your friend Clay probably helped her move the body, and maybe she slept with him because she owed him.”
Tony could be a jerk. Instead of responding, I silently walked back to my parents’ house.
Mom was standing propped against the kitchen counter, looking older than I remembered. Wrinkles gathered around the pain in her eyes, and I could see some white at the roots of her auburn hair. She wore a white cotton undershirt, covered by one of Dad’s red flannel shirts.
She had made me some eggs and toast, which were too done for my liking, but out of consideration for her effort, I thanked her and ate it.
Mom turned to me and, rather unemotionally, stated, “With his paranoia, Victor will never live through all those guys picking on him for entertainment.”
As Mom went on and on with her dire prophesy, I felt brick upon brick piling up on my back. It was shameful for me to take money from Serena, but I had to swallow my pride to keep Victor alive. I told Mom, “I need you to help me. What can you tell me about the state of Mandy’s body?” Mom was the one person Victor would have shared details with. I stilled her shaking hands with my own.
Mom thought for a moment. She knew from my work that the state of the body spoke volumes. “The straps were torn from her tank top, and her jeans were undone and partially down.” Mom laughed softly to herself. “You know how naïve Victor is. He said, ‘Maybe she died in her underwear so somebody dressed her.’ I just agreed. Mandy wasn’t wearing a jacket, and it was well below freezing.”
“How was her body positioned?” Mom looked confused, so I explained, “Was she curled up, or lying on her stomach?”
“She was lying on her back. Victor said she looked like she had been laid to rest.” A small shudder rippled through her shoulders.
THE BAIL MONEY WAS ACCEPTED, but Victor wasn’t going to be released until Monday, when the paperwork went through. During murder cases, counties were deliberately slow at processing paperwork on Fridays so they had the weekend to gather further evidence.
Tonight would be my moment of reckoning with Serena. I took the money, so now I had to face her. I wasn’t upset with her. Serena was a lover—maybe a little overindulgent at times, but a lover, nonetheless. I was an obsessive jerk who ruminated over imperfections, and I hated myself for that. That had to end, if I was going to maintain a loving relationship. I hadn’t always been like this. Before Victor’s psychosis kicked in when he was about twelve, I was a fun-loving kid. I needed to find peace again. I had tethered my life to my past with Mandy Baker, and I yearned to be free.
As I HAD SOLD ALL MY FURNITURE for bail money, Serena sat on the only place left to sit, the edge of my bed. She was in a lovely sundress, and nervously but matter-of-factly shared her past interactions with Clay, up to the present. It was easy for me to get lost in her green eyes and long dark curls. Serena told me, “Before I bare my soul any further, I want you to know that I like small towns, and I like Pierz. The same crap happens in houses across the nation. The only difference is that in the country, the houses are farther apart. And no matter where you live, the haters are always the loudest. You still have a lot of people who believe in you.”
I accepted this with a simple, “Thank you.” It was nice, but I needed answers. “Why are you on your own list of suspects?”
Serena swallowed hard and looked down. “I’m responsible for Mandy’s death. I brought her to my home. I didn’t stop her from drinking—hell, I drank with her. She must have tried walking to your farm and froze to death. She was heartbroken and drunk, and had nobody. Your parents claim Victor found Mandy’s dead body and buried her, and I believe them. This is my fault. It was never my intention to hurt your family. I just needed you to hear the truth from me before I turn myself in. I love you, and I swear, if I had known Victor had buried her body ten years ago, I would have turned myself in then. I am so sorry—”
“Shhh.” I felt bad for Serena. I took her hand and told her, “Mandy didn’t freeze to death. I talked to Tony. They don’t have the forensic pathologist’s report yet, but it appears that her neck was broken from a severe blow just below her skull. Victor is incarcerated because Mandy was murdered.” I could see a weary sense of relief and sadness wash over Serena as I continued. “She didn’t walk to our farm. She was deathly afraid of the complete darkness of the country at night. Mandy was struck hard by someone who was probably on top of her while she was lying prone. From what Mom managed to get out of Victor, her body was found lying face up. The straps were torn on her tank top, and she wasn’t wearing a jacket. Her body was dumped on our land. So you can cross your name off the list.”
Serena wrapped her arms around me in a fierce hug and said, “Thank you for telling me that. I can’t decide whether to be sad or happy to hear it. It helps me, but not Victor, and poor, poor Mandy.” I held the embrace out of fear that this was all we had left. She pulled back and searched my eyes intently, and finally asked, “Jon, what have I done that I can’t be forgiven for?”
“I’m miserable, and I want you to be happy, but I don’t think you can be happy with me,” I said. I tried to think of a way to explain it. “This is how I envision boundaries. When I choose an intimate partner, that person is on the top floor of the house with me. My family and close friends are important, so they’re on a floor just below us. And everyone else is outside. You were sexual with someone in my house, and when I think of you with Clay, it makes me crazy, and being crazy is very painful. It makes me unstable, and having an unstable foundation makes me subordinate to you. I feel like the only way I’m ever going to have peace again is to empty the house, except for family, and start over.”
Deep in thought, Serena silently studied me before she softly said, “I’ve seen you resolve difficult things.” Nothing was said for three long minutes before Serena tentatively rested her hand on mine and broke the silence. “Jon, if this is the only way, go ahead and clear out the house.” She softly stroked my cheek and searched my eyes. “Is it empty?”
I didn’t want to, but I didn’t have another solution. So, I closed my eyes for a moment before I sadly told her, “Yes. It’s empty— except for my crazy family.” I took a weary, deep breath.
Serena smiled cautiously. “Then, I’d like to step in from outside and introduce myself. I’m Serena Bell, and I’d like to date you. If it makes it easier, I’m already in love with you.”
One of the problems with picturing abstract ideas is that the image can be an obstacle. It takes someone who is patient and creative, like Serena, to help me out. We would start anew, as she suggested, with Clay removed from friend status. He was now on the outside, and overall, I felt good about it. I wouldn’t choose to be friends today with someone with whom Serena had a past relationship. Situation resolved.
I told her, “I love you, Serena. I’d like to start over. It’s too hard not to.”