Chapter 6
She didn’t want to think the worst of his parents. They’d always seemed so... normal? She scolded herself silently. It didn’t matter how ‘normal’ someone’s family seemed—you never knew for sure what went on behind closed doors. Unfortunately, a few families at the twins’ school had learned that the hard way in the past year. A twinge of regret and anxiety had her reaching for her phone, just to double-check the last texts from the girls and the family security app they’d agreed on. Every time she started to feel silly about having various security measures in place, there’d be a news story about a football coach, or an amber alert would turn her stomach to quicksand.
Loc8: Users Sid and Han co-located, accurate to within 10ft.
The pulsing circle on her screen highlighted the townhouse Liam and the girls had been living in during their stay. She had memorized the address itself and the various street names around it before they’d left. The first part of that was normal... it was the mile radius of street names around it that she was a little worried people would find out about and think she was nuts.
She swiped to the group text with the girls, her heart aching from missing them despite the fury Sid had sparked in her.
A notification popped up.
From Bee: Hey, I don’t want to be weird, but I’m outside. Did you wanna talk or what?
What in the world!? Who just drops by at…she thought as she checked the time, …seven forty-five... ugh, when did I get this old?
Tapping the text, she tossed up whether she should try to be funny or not...
From Abigail: hi, sure, just FYI, Byron and Cleo are here
The three dots that indicated Bee was typing appeared, disappeared, reappeared, and then disappeared again. Abigail rolled her eyes. Come on really? she thought.
A loud knock from the front door echoed down the hallway and she jumped.
I should really get one of those door camera things,she thought, shaking her head, and rising to answer Bee’s knock.
“Who’s calling in this late?” Cleo asked, leaning out of the kitchen.
“What, aside from the two of you every single night?” Abigail said playfully.
She could hear Byron teasing Cleo in the kitchen even as she approached and opened the front door. Bee stood before her, decked out in the strangest outfit she’d ever seen, a series of concentric stripes coiled around her starting from the ankles and working all the way up to her neck and down her arms.
“Hi, Be-wow! That’s a hell of a ... is that duct tape?”
Bee rolled her eyes and gestured to the loose-fitting joggers and hoodie: ”No, it’s automotive reflective tape. I run. Cars are stupid. I don’t want to bleed to death in a ditch because no one can see me.”
That... actually made a lot of sense. Abigail stepped aside to let Bee in. Abigail wondered how much the woman ran and if she could justify making a full-body reflective suit.
“I don’t have to stay long,” Bee said awkwardly, “I don’t want to interrupt. I was just out for a run and thought about what you said before.”
“Right,” Abigail said, “well, everyone’s in the kitchen...”
Abigail looked closely at Bee’s face as she walked past her. The woman was wearing make-up and out on a run! Despite the run, the makeup looked like it was in pretty good condition. Self-consciously, she touched her cheek and thought about the last time she’d been bothered to do proper makeup...
Voices from the kitchen reached her, and she shook herself loose from the spiral of self-analysis to join them. As she entered the room, she saw that in a short space of time, Cleo had managed to convince Bee to sit and eat with them.
“So, what’s the thing you think you’ve found?” Bee asked through a mouthful of rice and nori.
Cleo glanced over to Abigail curiously, who answered with a shrug.
“Well, I have to ask—when you said he’d hanged himself somewhere...”
“Your nose still out of joint about that? Come on—”
“No,” Abigail interrupted, “It’s not. It’s just... well, we found a death certificate for Jacob Givens, cause of death was suicide by hanging, and I just wondered if perhaps you knew about it and that had been why you said it...”
Bee swallowed, “Honestly, I wish I could say that was the case, but no, I’ve never seen a death certificate for him.”
“What’s your interest, if I can interrupt?” Byron asked.
Shrugging, Bee popped another roll into her mouth and replied, “It’s not that deep—I’m a bit of a true crime nutter. I’ve kind of lined myself up to study criminology and psychology at college, and it’s a local mystery—why wouldn’t I be interested?”
Abigail glanced at Cleo—how old was she? Surely not college age, and what about the food truck?
Cleo turned back to Bee. “Fair enough. Is that how you knew where Abby lives?”
She stared at her friend as she spoke, aghast. How had she not noticed that she hadn’t told Bee where she lived?
“Uh... yeah, actually, I’d like to know that too,” Abigail said, turning to Bee.
With exaggerated motions, Bee rolled her dramatically lined eyes and shook her head, “No, Cleo, I knew she was your neighbor, and we spent a summer a few years back doing the sorting for the charity drive at your place—remember?”
An awkward beat of silence passed as they all looked at each other.
“Okay,” Bee said, clearly uncomfortable, “finding a death cert feels like an investigation-ending event, not something to trigger you to come to talk to me...”
“Yeah,” Abigail said, trying to get her mind back on track, “well, it’s dated a couple of days before I last saw him... so...”
“Before?” Bee asked, seemingly interested now, “as in, you saw him when he was supposed to be dead already?”
Cleo nodded, “And apparently, he was using a fake name to sign the register.”
“Why was there a register?” Bee asked, turning to Abigail.
“Apparently the crash was investigated and the cops wanted to know who was coming to see me—but there can’t have been a guard or anything because they’d have seen him.”
Bee nodded, “And you’re sure? I mean, I know your head’s all...”
she made a scrambling motion with her hands.
“Gee, thanks,” Abigail said.
“Sorry,” Bee replied, “…but you are, you know, sure?”
Loudly and simultaneously, Abigail and Cleo said, “Yes!”
At least Bee had the good grace to look genuinely ashamed for a split second.
“I think you’re right,” she said, looking intently at Abigail, “I think you’re actually on to something—I’d really like to figure it out with you... if you’ll let me.”
Abigail nodded. She could put up with a few awkward conversations.