4. Cassie
CASSIE
At long last, the door opens.
Two people come in—a bald man who looks to be in his mid-forties and a brunette woman probably in her late thirties.
“Hey, Cassie. Sorry to keep you waiting so long,” the man says, entering the room. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, but it’s been a long night.”
“Sure has,” I murmur.
“You must be tired.”
I nod, too depleted to offer extra words.
But I perk up when the lady steps forward and slides a bottle of water across the table.
“Oh, thank you,” I say, wasting no time uncapping it.
“I’m Detective Lucker. This is Detective Sanchez,” he says, gesturing to the lady.
“Nice to meet you,” I murmur automatically, causing the man to smile faintly.
“Hey, we don’t hear that often in situations like this.”
“Sorry,” I mutter. “Habit.”
“You’ll get no complaints from me. I like to keep it friendly when I can, you know? We’re all just here doing our jobs. If everybody cooperates, then we all get out of here sooner.”
“Sounds great,” I tell him.
He smiles. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
“And I can save you a little more time,” I tell him. “Because I’m not talking about Timothy Walters without my lawyer.”
His smile weakens, but he’s been at this a while, so he doesn’t advertise his disappointment. “I understand you and Timothy Walters had some unpleasant history.”
“Yes, he raped me last summer,” I state bluntly. “So that’s unpleasant.”
The man nods.
The woman takes a seat. “That must have been hard, dating his brother. His twin brother.”
I cross my arms, preparing to reiterate that I want my lawyer, but the man interrupts before I can to switch courses. “You know what, we don’t have to start there. We don’t have to get deep at all. Why don’t you just tell us what happened tonight?”
“Sure. After I’ve spoken with my lawyer.”
The detectives exchange a glance, and the woman stands back up.
“All righty, then,” says the man. “We’re gonna step out, but we’ll be back.
Whether you want to talk to us or not, we do need to collect some evidence.
” He pauses, almost like he’s deciding whether he really wants to say what he wants to say.
Then he looks back at me. “Miss Pritchard, I do want you to consider that this is your chance to tell your side of the story. Whatever happened tonight, I’m sure we can sort it out.
And I’m sure when Torrance Walters is sitting where you’re sitting, he’ll be advised of the same thing. ”
I nod but keep my mouth shut.
The detective lingers a moment longer, letting me reconsider, then he steps out, closing the door behind him.
I wait again.
But at least this time I have my water.
I drink too much of it, and by the time they get back, I need to pee.
Detective Sanchez drops a plastic bag with what looks like a pair of gray sweats inside onto the table. “We’ll need to collect your clothing as evidence, so go ahead and change into these. We’ll need your shoes, too.” She drops a pair of sandals on the table next to the sweats.
“We’ll also need your phone,” Detective Lucker tells me.
My instinct compels me to ask, “Do you need a warrant for that?”
He hesitates. “If you hand it over yourself, we can skip that step.”
“We also need your consent for the forensic collection,” the lady tells me. “We can get a warrant if you don’t give it. This is a murder investigation, and your alibi depends on it, but we do need your consent to get started on that now. If we have to get a warrant, it will take longer.”
“Is it like a rape kit?”
Her demeanor softens ever so slightly. “Yes. Somewhat like that.”
I nod. I’ve done one before. I don’t see any point in making them wait for that. “Do I do it at the hospital?”
“Yes.”
So exactly like last summer.
Awesome.
Even in death, Timothy Walters is a pain in my ass.
___
I get another ride in the police car to an even less fun location.
The rain hasn’t stopped, but it has slowed.
My eyes are starting to burn with the effort of staying awake.
My insides still feel pretty numb.
The whole incident is reminiscent of my last hospital visit, but surprisingly, I feel a modicum more control this time—which is funny because I don’t have control at all. Still, I had less last time.
At least this time, I had some part in making the decisions that brought me here.
The cop escorts me all the way to the hospital room—a different cop, so maybe the other one’s shift ended.
I take off the clothes that aren’t mine anyway and slip on a hospital gown.
I lift myself onto the exam table, haunted by the familiar crinkle of the thin paper beneath me.
Everything about this brings to mind that night, and it’s the last thing I want to think about.
I close my eyes and try to think about anything else.
The wait here isn’t as long as at the police station.
A nurse comes in, but it’s not her face I see. It’s the nurse last year. She was kind and patient, and I was so fragile that even her gentleness made me break.
This nurse offers a practiced greeting, then explains the steps she’ll take to collect the samples. Between my exhaustion and echoes of past trauma, I struggle to stay present and just nod automatically to everything she says.
She begins with external swabs that trigger fresh, new memories. Not real intimacy or affection, but a charade of it.
I’m sure it was going through the motions for Tor, but they’re ones I’ve never done before. I’ve never felt a man’s lips on my neck like that. I kissed Russell when we were together, but even when he tried to push for more intimacy than I was comfortable with, he never kissed me there.
Russ and I fought a lot about that when we were together. He made me feel bad for not being ready, and I made him feel bad by… well, not being ready, I guess. We had fought right before the party. That’s why he wasn’t there with me.
I think that might be part of why I said yes so easily tonight, when Tor made the suggestion.
Even though I really didn’t feel ready at the time, I’ve spent a lot of sleepless nights going over what I could have done differently, and my boyfriend being there seems an obvious shield.
There’s no way Tim could have done that to me with Russ there, and Russ would have been there if I’d just given in and slept with him.
We wouldn’t have had anything to fight over.
I also wouldn’t have been a virgin that night. I would have at least been able to choose who was inside my body for the first time.
But I never said yes to Russ, and then the choice was taken away from me.
“All right. Now I’m gonna have you scoot forward and put your feet in the stirrups.”
Sighing softly, I shift my body into position.
I never dreamed Torrance Walters would end up being the first guy to…
Despite my anxiety in the moment, I am glad he thought of it. It makes me feel calmer as the nurse collects her sample to know there will be something to find. I wouldn’t have thought of it. The alibi would have fallen apart.
I would have gone to prison, likely for the rest of my life.
I still might, but I must admit, the trial period I’m going through right now has me rethinking how cavalier I’ve been about the possibility before tonight.
It’s like I told Tor, though. I wasn’t thinking past that moment. Everything has been about getting to it. What came next wasn’t even a consideration.
When the evidence collection is over, the police officer tells me they have all they need for now and offers to give me a ride home. Since they kept my car as evidence, I guess I don’t have any other way to get there.
The sun is up by the time the police car slows to a stop in front of my house.
I hope none of the neighbors are awake to see me being brought home like this, but I guess it doesn't really matter. People will find out eventually. The Walters family is a big deal in this town. There’s no chance the death—no, the murder—of one of them will go unnoticed.
The front door is still unlocked, and my mom and Frank are still asleep.
Kind of crazy that so much has happened and they don’t even know yet.
The realization that I’ll have to explain it drains me even further.
I need a shower, but I don’t want to risk staying out here long enough for anyone to wake up. I’m not ready to talk about it.
I’ll just strip my bed and clean my sheets later.
For now, I enjoy sinking into the comfort of my own bed.
My eyes drift closed. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nervous system.
And finally, I go to sleep.
___
“Wake up!”
I’m yanked from unconsciousness, disoriented as my scrunched eyes open. It’s so bright, and for a moment, I’m not grounded in time and space. Anything or nothing could be going on—but that doesn’t last for long.
As soon as I see my mom’s wide brown eyes as she stands in my open doorway, reality’s tether reattaches. Awareness of last night resurfaces, and I know exactly when it is and where I am.
Great.
“I can’t believe you’re still asleep,” my mother says. “Get up, come to the kitchen. I have something to tell you.”
I bet I have a guess.
I am not ready for this, not by any stretch of the imagination. How do I even explain my involvement? I never made it that far last night, but Tor’s story that we hooked up is insane. Nobody who knows me will believe it.
Although I guess that would explain why we would sneak around if we really were hooking up. What would people say? What will his family think?
I haven’t spared much thought for his family, and I don’t now either, but it’s a certainty that they all know what happened by now. Tessa, their sister, is studying in Paris this summer. I know there’s a time difference, but I’m sure they’ve gotten in touch with her by now.
Reluctantly, I haul myself off the mattress and leave the sanctuary of my bedroom. “Is the washer empty?” I ask my mom. “I need to do laundry.”
“There’s a load waiting to go in, but if you want to do that first…” I nod, but she’s not interested in talking about laundry right now. “You’re not going to believe what Frank heard at work this morning.”