17. Jael
Disparate Youth - Santigold
“ A fternoon, Deputy,” I greet, smiling wide. “I didn’t expect for you to be back so soon. And you brought a friend this time.”
My insides shake, my gaze panning from Deputy Dudley to the man he’s brought with him. He’s slimmer, more hard-edged, with a jaw that looks sharp as a razor and thin lips pressed into a tight line. Mirrored aviators block his eyes from view, making him look more intimidating than the average law enforcement official.
But it’s the gold star pinned to his chest that catches my attention most of all.
It hits me who this is. If Dudley is the deputy, then this man is the sheriff.
They know.
The two words slither through my brain, hissing at me in a cruel, taunting tone. I’d like to counter the inner voice set on basking in my destruction, but how can I when it’s the truth? Why else would they show up at the cabin if they didn’t know?
If they weren’t working with the others?
Laurent, Wolford, everyone is against me.
I can only rely on one person.
Myself.
I form my plan on the spot, keeping my broad smile and deciding I’m going down with a fight. I’m not going to let them take advantage of me anymore. I’ve let people bully me for too long and it stops now.
“We’re sorry to disturb you,” says Deputy Dudley, tipping his wide-brimmed hat. He gestures to the man beside him. “In case you don’t recognize him, this is Sheriff McGrath. He thought he would come along for this visit.”
“I’ve got to be honest, Deputy, I’m not sure why that would be necessary. I’m very busy and don’t have time for small talk.”
“This isn’t small talk,” he insists. “Jacqueline, I wanted you to know I’ve been in contact with the Klum family. They state they’re not currently renting their cabin to anyone, nor have they ever.”
I give a breezy laugh despite the way my heart does a flip. “That’s really weird. I went through a rental website and everything. I paid for the entire week. How else would I get the keys?” I dig into the front pocket of my jeans and dangle the set in front of them. “I guess it must’ve been some kind of scam. But that sounds like something you should probably take up with that company.”
Dudley’s brow creases and he places both hands on his waist. “A scam, huh?”
“Sounds like it to me. But no harm done. I was planning on leaving today anyway. I’ll be out of the Klums’s hair and I’ll definitely be reaching out to the scammers who took my money.”
“You plan on leaving? In that station wagon?”
“I’m already packed and ready to go, Deputy. Not that it’s any of your business.”
He tilts his head to the side, his gaze accusatory. “Interesting. Because we ran the plates on that bronze station wagon parked in the drive.”
Blood rushes to my head, leaving me dizzy. “You… you did?” I stammer. “Is there a problem?”
“There is. The plates—the entire vehicle—belong to Stanley Vedder.”
The words hit me like a hammer. For a second, I remain frozen, smiling like an idiot as the accusation hangs clear in the air.
But I committed to my story. I’ve made up my mind that I’m not going down without push back. I won’t give them what they want; they’re going to have to take it from me.
Force my hand once all options have been exhausted.
“Right,” I say, adding a laugh. “Of course it’s his car. He let me borrow it. He knew how badly I needed a car and mine has been in the shop. I told him about how I was on a cross-country trip to meet up with my sister and he took pity on me. He was kind enough to help under the condition I returned his car in the same state. I’m not the best driver—I curb check sometimes, ha ha—but I’ve been doing my best.”
Deputy Dudley and his boss exchange silent looks. Dudley drops any politeness from his tone, as though his patience is running out.
“You borrowed a car from a man who was murdered hours later? And you didn’t think to contact the authorities about it?”
I gasp. “Stanley’s been murdered? Oh my god, that’s terrible.”
“It’s been all over the news.”
“Background noise,” I say, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s so hard keeping up with current events that I don’t really pay much attention?—”
“You were one of the only guests checked into the Mariner’s Motel at the time of his death.”
“Is that a crime?”
“It’s not a crime, but murder sure is,” Dudley snaps. “Whether you realize it or not, Ms. Hyde, that makes you part of a homicide investigation.”
“Then I guess I better get in touch with my lawyer. How about I have him call you? If that’s all, officers, then I’d like to get back to my day. Like I mentioned, I’m hitting the road. I have to meet up with my sister.”
“Funny. You told me you were on a nature retreat.”
My smile falters, heat warming me up. “I can walk and chew gum at the same time, Deputy. I’ve been on a nature retreat and now I’m about to meet up with my sister. That isn’t a crime either.”
“Curious,” says Sheriff McGrath, speaking for the first time in what’s a twang that sounds cold and aloof to the ears. “I’d like to know one thing, Ms. Hyde. Do you mind explaining why, when we ran the name Jacqueline Hyde in the system, we found no record to show she existed?”
“Jacqueline is my middle name.”
“You have no middle name,” he says matter-of-factly. His mirrored aviator glasses flash my reflection back at me, showing a woman crumbling apart by the second. “That would be because your real name is Jael Hendrix. Sister of Lyra Hendrix, one of the victims of the Cleaver. And recent patient at Brighter Days Psychiatric Hospital.”
Cracks formed, I shake my head. “That’s not?—”
“We’ve been in touch with your doctor, Dr. Wolford,” he cuts off crudely. “He told us what happened at your last session. You fled before professionals could arrive.”
“That’s because they were going to—I didn’t want—it wasn’t fair!” I blurt out, losing any bearing I’ve had left. I stomp my foot and wave my hands, desperate to make them understand. “I told him I was sorry, but I swear I thought he was about to… I wasn’t… please!”
The air is thick, crushing me from all sides. I feel dizzy and confused, my mind racing. I thought I had it together, but the walls are quickly crashing down and I’m finding myself defenseless. Backed into a corner.
And they haven’t even stepped inside the cabin yet to find the other surprise waiting for them. He’s massive, with a minotaur mask, bound and chained to a chair, my prisoner for the past few days…
If they find Bront?, I won’t just be in trouble. I’d be finished for good.
“Ms. Hendrix, we need you to come with us,” McGrath says. “We need to bring you down to the station for some questions and then you’ll be released into the custody of Dr. Wolford and the psychiatric hospital for the time being.”
A wave of vertigo smacks into me.
Everything around me feels like it spins. The officers become fuzzy distortions that I have to blink to visually set right again.
It’s the effect the threat has on me—and telling me I’ll be sent back to the hospital is the scariest threat anyone could make.
I’ll be locked up again. Caged like an animal.
No freedom. No agency. No real life.
Definitely no chance to find my sister and make things right.
Taking a shaky breath, I nod in defeat, my voice a quiet whisper. “O-okay.”
“This is for the best, Ms. Hendrix,” says Dudley, his inflection different. The notes of suspicion are gone, replaced by a condescending sense of concern.
“Can I… do you mind if I grab my jacket?” I ask timidly. “I get cold easily.”
McGrath sighs while Dudley reluctantly agrees. “Make it quick, Ms. Hendrix.”
“I promise it’ll be just a second. Thanks!”
I snap shut the door before either can react and draw my deepest breath yet. It’s the kind of breath that prepares me for what I have to do.
But it isn’t my fault—it’s their fault. They’re forcing my hand.
If they’d just left me alone, none of this would happen. Everything would be fine!
I kneel in front of the many things I’ve packed for the road, snapping open the case that I’ve set down next to my duffle bag.
From across the room, I can feel Bront?’s heavy gaze on me. He’s still watching my every move to the end. He’s kept quiet as the sheriffs interrogated me when he could’ve easily shouted for help. But I don’t have time to think about Bront? or his twisted sense of loyalty toward me.
I have to save myself.
I slide on my jacket and reach for the doorknob with one arm. The other remains behind my back. As I draw the door open and find Sheriff McGrath and Deputy Dudley in the middle of a short conversation, I take the leap.
There’s no time to second guess or hesitate.
This is what I have to do to protect myself and keep the bad guys away.
In a quick motion, I reveal what I’m hiding behind my back, pointing the pistol at McGrath first and squeezing the trigger. The bullet hits him square in the chest, cutting him down to his knees at once.
With no hesitation, I swing the barrel in Dudley’s direction and do the same. My finger pulls at the trigger and the pistol jumps in my grip as it goes off.
Another shot rings through the woods.