Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
LUCKY brEAK
TARYN
We’ve been driving for days.
Jo-Jo and I have been taking turns at the wheel of my beat up Volkswagen Beetle, zigzagging from state to state on our way to the west coast.
My best friend got rid of our bloody clothes and the knife somewhere between New Mexico and Arizona during a stop to admire the scenic views of the desert. I don’t know exactly where she dumped the incriminating evidence, and she said it’s better that way.
“Plausible deniability, baby.” She said. “So if this comes back to you in any way, you aren’t going to lie to the police when you say you have no idea what happened to the murder weapon.”
That’s good thinking. The police would never look for it thousands of miles away, at the opposite end of the country.
If I was hoping that my memory would come back once my head was a little clearer after the drugs still in my system had gone, I’m sorely disappointed.
All I can remember from the time I downed my drink is Tim kissing me and pushing me down onto his bed. After that was a big black hole until I woke up covered in blood.
While driving across the country, we’ve been stopping to see some interesting stuff. Highways are full of interesting landmarks. The biggest peach in the world in Georgia and the biggest chili pepper in the world in New Mexico are just my favorite of the odd and interesting things we have seen.
Paying for gas and food has been our main concern while on the road, and we’ve slept in the car every night to make our less than adequate funds last until we reach the west coast.
Truck stop bathrooms are surprisingly clean and they have extensive facilities, including showers. I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated a hot shower more than the one I took at a truck stop in Alabama where I finally was able to wash the blood off my skin and hair.
Other than staying safe and making our money last as long as possible, our main concern has been watching the news for obvious reasons.
So far the police have no leads in what was called a shocking, senseless and gruesome murder.
Our road trip and Jo-Jo’s company have been an excellent distraction from the guilt that assaults me every night without fail.
How could I kill someone so violently? I just completed my nursing degree, but I swear the hospital rotations have been the hardest part of my studies.
I discovered that I really don’t like blood during my stint in the ER.
However, I also know that mind-altering substances can make people do things that they would never do if they weren’t under the influence.
That’s what Jo-Jo reminded me last night. She woke up in the middle of the night to my uncontrollable sobbing.
“Taryn, sweetie,” she held me tight. “Listen to me. You’re the best person I know.
The most compassionate, caring, and loving woman I’ve ever met.
I consider myself lucky to call you my friend, ok?
We have both seen what certain drugs can do to a person.
Whenever you have any doubts about it, remember Laura Hamilton.
Like she would have never willingly walked down the interstate in her birthday suit, you would never hurt another person. ”
In my heart, I know Jo-Jo is right. And I agree with her that I didn’t choose to take those drugs, so I can’t be held responsible for what happened when I was roofied.
A part of me thinks we made a mistake by leaving.
No jury would have found me guilty under the circumstances.
But then I remember the countless true crime documentaries where an excellent DA managed to get a conviction with even less evidence than what there was in Tim’s room.
And my mom would have given every last cent in her bank account to get me the best defense lawyer she could afford.
But as a single parent who’s worked two jobs to support us, my odds wouldn’t have looked that good.
We did everything right so far. No one saw us leave the Gamma house in the early hours of the morning. Our lease was up at the end of the month, and since we were graduating, we had already given notice to our landlord. So no one would find us leaving too suspicious.
I turn my head to look at Jodie napping with her head against the window while I drive.
Ride or die, she said.
I’m grateful for my best friend. We were paired in the dorms freshman year. We were lucky that a random computer program selected our best friend as a roommate. We’ve joked countless times since then that we wouldn’t trust anyone else if we ever had to hide a body.
If my nerves weren’t still a little shaken, the fact that we pretty much found ourselves in that very situation would be funny.
I stifle a yawn and relax my fingers on the steering wheel.
I’ve been driving since dawn and my stomach growls, signaling that it’s time for a stop.
We slept at a truck stop just past LA last night and I’ve been driving for almost five hours.
It’s closer to lunchtime than breakfast, and I’m sure Jo-Jo is going to be just as hungry when she wakes up.
The winding road we’ve been on since I left the highway on a whim has taken us through a few coastal towns.
We’ve left a medium-sized town called Shell Cove not long ago, and I spot a sign ahead of us signaling that we’re entering Star Cove city limits.
I immediately like the name; it sounds a little poetic. The romantic in me thinks that a place with “star” in the name can’t be that bad, right?
And to be honest, even the well-maintained road looks pretty with pink and purple flowers bordering the carriageway. Maritime pine trees can be spotted on either side of the road and the sea scented breeze fills my little car from the crack in the window.
We haven’t encountered any buildings so far, but that’s about to change.
There’s a modern two story building, all glass and chrome, a few hundred yards away and a few other taller buildings around it. It looks like some kind of complex.
“Where are we?” Jodie yawns, stretching her arms above her head.
“Some place called Star Cove. Pretty name, right?”
My best friend looks out of her window as I pull over to the curb by the first building and the car comes to a stop. “Why are we stopping here?”
I turn the key in the ignition over and over again, but the engine sputters, refusing to move another inch.
“Mm, I wasn’t actually stopping. But it looks like we’re out of gas.”
“Shit,” Jodie bites out. “Hopefully we won’t have to walk for miles to find a gas station. We’ll have to buy a canister too to bring gas to the car. There’s no way we can afford to get towed.”
My stomach growls before I can break the news to Jodie that we’re very close to being broke.
“I think this is it, babe. We left Hemlock Beach with eight hundred bucks between us. After gas and food, we have around three hundred left. I think we should stop here. We could use this money to get us a cheap room in town and feed us until we get jobs.”
Jodie considers my words. “You’re right. Hopefully this place has some jobs going.”
“It looks like a small beach town. If it’s anything like Hemlock Beach, accommodation might be a little more expensive in the summer, but high season should mean plenty of temporary jobs to cater to the tourists.”
“You’re right.” Jodie opens the passenger door. “Let’s see if someone over there can give us some advice on where to find an affordable place to stay and where someone might be hiring.”
That’s a good idea.
I lock the car and follow Jodie toward the gates surrounding the complex at the end of the road.
As we approach, we see several cars parked outside the modern building I noticed earlier and a small crowd gathered by the entrance.
“What’s going on?” I whisper.
“There’s only one way to find out.” Jodie stops at the end of what looks like a line of women now that we’re closer. “Hey, excuse me.” She taps a brunette girl on the shoulder.
When the girl turns, we’re met by bright blue eyes and an even brighter smile. “Hi, what’s up?”
Jodie returns her smile. “Hi, my name is Jodie, and this is Taryn. Our car just broke down right there.” She points vaguely behind us. “What’s this place? We were hoping to find some help, but we’re curious about why it’s so crowded. Is this a college campus?”
“No, campus is a few miles in the opposite direction. I’m Talia, by the way.
This is a new sports complex. Today they’re opening the selections for a new cheer team.
The town is going to bid for a new NHL team and they want to put together a team of professional dancers to train as cheerleaders.
The selections begin on Monday morning, but you have to get your number now.
Then there’s going to be a super selective eight week training camp and the best of the best will be offered a contract. ”
Oh my God.
Jodie and I look at each other.
“That sounds amazing. Maybe we could try out.” My heart is beating a hundred miles per second when I say that. I majored in Nursing Sciences because I wanted to have something safe to fall back onto. But dance is my passion, and it would be a dream to do it professionally.
“Sweetie, that would be so much fun. But you just said we’re broke. We need to find jobs quickly, or we’re in huge trouble.”
My face falls at the harsh reality of our situation. “You’re right.” I sigh. It’s all my fault if we’re stranded here, away from our family and friends and about to run out of money.
“I mean, the selections are going to be very hard. But if you get in, you’re going to get paid for as long as you’re at training camp. And they also offer room and board within the training facilities since training will be a full-time gig,” Talia explains.
Jodie and I look at each other again, but this time there’s excitement in our eyes.
“That changes everything.” My best friend says. “It’s perfect for us.”
I nod. “If things work out, we just need to find a place to stay until Monday.”