Chapter 86 Nellie
Nellie
Mom’s dead. I killed her.
I couldn’t stop myself.
And now it’s too late.
I stand over her lifeless body; her mouth is still open, like she’s in shock.
What the fuck have I done?
Fresh tears filling my eyes, I stagger, then start puking up my guts.
This didn’t have to happen. Why did I do this? And what the fuck am I gonna do about it?
I walk to the edge of the woods, look down at the Boat House.
The inside lights are now turned off; the deck is empty.
Other than Mom’s Jag and my bimmer, the parking lot is also empty.
I’ve gotta do something.
It’s too far to the river. It’d take a mile of hiking to get there.
And I don’t have a shovel on me, so I can’t bury her.
I run down to the Boat House, stumbling around the deck, making sure the coast is really clear.
After I catch my breath, I calmly walk back up the hill, back to Mom in the woods, where I left her.
For a second I think about lifting her, putting her in the trunk. Dumping her on Dad’s land. But that’s so far away, and the thought of driving around with her makes me ill. And what if I get pulled over?
No.
The lake will have to do.
I take a deep breath, work up my nerve, and grab her by the ankles.
She’s surprisingly easy to drag, especially downhill; the pine needles make her glide over the ground, smooth as glass.
Things get rocky only when I reach the boat ramp, which is concrete and much rougher.
But I tug on her ankles, then wade into the warm lake, where I pull her body, flipping it over before I push it all the way in.
The wind is gusting tonight, making the surface of the lake ripple.
Mom’s body bobs but doesn’t sink.
Why the fuck isn’t she sinking?
I’m starting to panic. I’ve got to get rid of the body. It’s waterlogged now; it’s not like I can drag her back out of there—she’s already floating away, just not going under—so what the fuck am I supposed to do?
I need someone to help me.
Someone strong.
I race back to my car, slowly pull out onto the road. I can’t risk driving like a maniac right now.
Please, please let Luke still be at the Circles, I pray to a god I don’t believe in.
As I cruise down the highway, I light up a smoke, trying to calm the hell down.
I pull onto the shoulder and sigh: Luke’s leaning against his Camaro, away from the crowd. Smoking a jay. Fucker.
I kill my headlights, park far away so that no one will notice me, then sneak along the tree line until I’m close to him.
“Hey!” I whisper-shout from the woods.
Luke twists around, spots me. Walks over. “Hey. What are you doing?”
“Shhhh. Listen, I’m in deep shit. And I need your help.”
“Look, I heard you and Jane fighting and—I figured you’d never want to talk to me again—” He hangs his head, stares at his feet. I want to slap him out of this.
“Fuck all that right now. Listen,” I hiss at him.
I can use his guilt to my advantage. Use it to play him like he played me.
“You gotta help me, okay? I’m going to leave, and when no one is looking, you’re gonna drive away, too.
If anyone sees you, tell them you’re going to buy smokes and that you’ll be back.
Then meet me at the Boat House. The place by the swimming hole. In the parking lot. Now.”
“Okay—”
I turn and leave before he has the chance to change his mind.
Five minutes later, I’m standing back in the parking lot. The INXS song, “The Devil Inside,” is playing on the radio in my car. I left the stereo on to help calm my nerves, and now this damn song is playing, but it’s so alarmingly spot-on.
Then, over the music, I hear Luke’s tires crunch on the gravel lot. I watch him as he slides out of his car, his body lean but strong, the bottom of his Bauhaus T-shirt creeping up, showing off his tanned abs.
“Does this mean you’re not mad at me?” he asks.
“Um, yeah, sure, whatever,” I say. “Look, I had a nasty fight with my mom, and things got really ugly, and welp—” I point to her body in the lake.
“Fuck, Nellie!”
This makes alarm bells ring loudly in my head. “I know! I know! But just help me! Whatever, make her body sink!”
Luke looks spooked, freaked out. “I’m sorry, Nellie. This is fucked up. I can’t get mixed up in all this.”
“Well,” I reply, “you want to keep that five thousand dollars of blood money without anybody knowing about it?”
“Jesus Christ.” Luke slides a hand through his hair, tugs on the ends. “Okay. Yes. Fine.”
He walks a few steps forward, and I nod. “Just go have a look, then report back. I—I’m a wreck.” Tears flood my face.
As soon as he’s ten feet away, I do the only thing I know how to do, the thing I’ve been doing my entire life.
I run through the parking lot to the pay phone.
Pick up the phone, dial 911.
A calm voice says, “Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
My own voice shaky, I stammer, “S-something terrible has happened. At the Boat House, off Highway 259. There was a fight, a woman and a tall guy, someone got hurt. No, killed, and I’m terrified for my life. Can you send someone out here to help me?”