Chapter Fifteen
There was no such thing as feeling better so soon after losing your mother, but hours later when Lily, Alex, and I drove down the same dirt road for home—it felt like the pit had shrunk just the tiniest bit.
“How are you doing, Lilybug? Do you remember what Mommy and Daddy told you?”
“Yes,” she said, putting down her ice cream cone. We took her to Bonsai Beach to tell her in the simplest non-murdery terms that Omma was gone. She cried for a while but stopped by the time we reached the ice cream parlor.
She'd been asking us innocent questions about heaven ever since, and if Omma was happy there.
“The police offcers are back,” she cutely mispronounced. “But they’re nice and there to protect us.”
“That’s right, sweet girl,” I spoke up. “They might ask you some questions about Halmeoni, but me or your daddies will be with you the whole time.”
“You promise, Mommy?” She poked her head through the gap, staring up at me with those big, purple eyes. “You’ll be with me forever now?”
“Lily, I...” Why was she asking only me that? Was it because of Sue’s neglect, or because she knew I wasn’t her old mommy?
Fact was I never did ask Lily what she meant that day. First, because Alex got in the way, and then because I wimped out like a big fat chicken.
Confirming that Lily knew I wasn’t Sue meant opening the door to what happened to the real Sue, and I could lie to Alex, Rhodes, and Micah. But I didn’t want to lie to her.
“Yes,” I murmured, feeling Alex’s eyes on me. “I promise I’ll be with you forever. No matter what happens, I’ll always be there for you.”
“Okay,” she chirped, dropping back to finish her ice cream.
Alex was still eyeing me as he slowed before the gate, waiting for it to open.
“Sue,” he began, “about what we said this morning about you staying. We should—”
I shot forward, dropping my ice cream all down my shirt and lap. “Wait, what are they doing! Stop!” Throwing open the door, I fell out of the car. “Stop, let her go!”
Balogun and Kaplan held open the main doors, clearing the way for the two officers hauling Courtney out in handcuffs. With a goggling, nosy crowd trailing behind them—filming everything.
“Stay back,” Kaplan bellowed, dropping the jolly, laid-back act quick. “Do not interfere, Mrs. Kim.”
“My foot’s about to interfere with your ass, bitch!”
He blew back, brows disappearing into his hairline. Pretty sure no one had ever said that to him before.
“Get off of her!” I threw myself at the officers holding Courtney, and found myself being thrown right back.
My obstruction caught and twisted my arm around my back, putting me in a screaming hold. “Calm down, Mrs. Kim,” Davis ordered. “Don’t get yourself arrested right along with her.”
“Why is she being arrested?” I demanded. “What the hell’s going on?”
“She’s under arrest for the murder of your mother,” Kaplan said. “Ha-eun Kim.”
I dismissed that as soon as he said it. “Bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit. She had every reason to want your mother dead... because of you.”
“Who?” I whipped around looking for someone else, but Kaplan was definitely looking at me. “Me?”
“Yes, you,” Balogun put in. “Years ago, when you ran into your friend in Paris and then told your mother all about your fun little weekend girls’ trip, your mother turned around and told Ms. Thorne’s parents all about it. It was because of your mother that your friend was disinherited.”
I rocked back, jaw hanging. “That’s insane! I’ve never been to—” I sliced off the sentence, sense rushing in and holding back my tongue.
Of course I’d never been to Paris, but the real Soo Min had. I had the photos of her in front of the Eiffel Tower to prove it.
What does this mean? Did cruel fate intervene and make Sue cross paths with Courtney when she was living in Paris, but pretending to be away at college? Was it really because of my sister and mother that Courtney’s parents hit the nuclear button and cut her off?
“N-no,” I croaked, tossing my head. “I don’t care what happened eight years ago. Courtney would never hurt anyone, let alone my own mother.”
“Exactly,” my best friend cried. “This is nonsense. You’ve got it all wrong!”
“Do we?” Balogun drawled. “Because my officers are certain that you went upstairs shortly before nine thirty and you didn’t come back down for a full half an hour.
And you were packing a hell of a motive on the walk up.
You went from an only child set to inherit millions to a broke and struggling single mom living in a one-bedroom shoebox above a bakery. ”
“Hey!” Courtney lunged at her, almost tearing her restrained arms from her sockets.
“Don’t you dare talk about my life that way!
I love my daughter, my home, and my business.
Plus, I made up with my parents years ago.
I told them that I didn’t want their money.
I just wanted us to be a family again for Taylor’s sake. If anything, Mrs. Kim did me a favor!”
“But that’s not true, is it, Ms. Thorne?”
Courtney and I whipped around at the new voice.
Officer Andrews—a short, thin woman who looked like she was swimming in her uniform even though it was her size—pushed past a pale-faced Mr. Stevens, and a phone-high-and-recording-everything Chic Ghost. “Around the same time last year, I was called to your bakery by Madame Kim herself,” she said.
“You threw her out of your shop—screaming, yelling, and pelting her with cupcakes. Half the street heard you shout that she was a miserable bitch that took everything from you.” Gasps sounded behind her.
Our ghoulish, gossipy audience loved every minute of it.
“You didn’t think she did you a favor then.
No,” she stated, eyes hard. “You still held a grudge about the money.”
“But I didn’t,” Courtney half screamed. “It wasn’t the money I was upset about losing! I was mad because she—because she drove away—” Eyes filling, Courtney cut herself off, and looked at me.
The truth hit me like a brick to the head. Because of me. Courtney freaked out on my mom because she drove her best friend away, leaving her with absolutely no one on her side when her life imploded.
But she can’t say that here. Because how can she explain that she was angry with Omma for driving me away when “I” have been living in Lantana for over five years.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” Courtney cried, straining in their grip. “I didn’t do anything!”
“If you didn’t do anything, why was this”—Balogun snapped her fingers and an evidence bag was placed in her hand—“found in your overnight bag?”
I went slack in Davis’s grip.
For the benefit of me, Courtney, the officers, Mr. Stevens, and all the gawkers, she held up the bloodstained evidence bag, and the long, serrated blade nestled within. “The murder weapon,” she announced—as if there could be any doubt.
“If that was in my bag, you put it there,” Courtney screamed. “Because I sure as fuck didn’t! I’m the one who gave you permission to search my things. Why would I have done that if there was a bloody fucking knife in it?”
“Ms. Thorne—”
“They’re framing me.” Courtney whipped around, beseeching the cameras. “Help me, please! They’re trying to frame me for murder!”
“Ms. Thorne!” Balogun barked, snapping the knife down. “That is enough— We are doing no such thing!”
“It’s true,” I seized. “Something isn’t right. You told me yourself, Officer Davis, that whoever attacked and killed my mother would’ve been covered in blood, but Courtney didn’t have a drop on her last night.”
“That’s true,” Mr. Stevens blurted, color returning to his face. “That’s right, she didn’t have a drop of blood on her. She didn’t even have a hair out of place. She’s perfect— I mean, she was perfect. Last night.”
“See?” Courtney said, hope rising. “That proves it. I left my bag in an unlocked guest room all night. Anyone could’ve put—”
“If someone put a bloody knife in your bag,” Davis sliced in, “wouldn’t you have seen it this morning when you changed your clothes?”
Courtney stiffened, flicking down to her flowy, brown maxi dress. “Well, then, someone put it in after I changed,” she snapped. “I was forced to leave my bag unattended when you ordered me into the ballroom this morning,” she told Davis. “It was you, wasn’t it. You put the knife in there.”
“I beg your pardon?” Davis sputtered.
“Yeah, my friend told me all about you.” Courtney’s nose twisted like she smelled something foul.
“About how you were creeping on her seconds after peeling her out of a totaled car. You were grilling her on why she didn’t have a boyfriend, if she lived alone, and why she wasn’t wearing that hot little miniskirt you found in her trunk! ”
“What!?”
“Even now, you’re still feeling her up even though she stopped resisting ten minutes ago!”
Davis flung me away like I burned, only for me to spin on him.
“Everything she said is true,” I flung. “Plus, just last night Davis told me he hates working security. He told me right to my face that he only did it because he was bribed”—Davis’s eyes bugged out of his head—“if that’s not corrupt, what is?”
“That’s not true. None of that’s true,” Davis bellowed.
Hey, I knew I was twisting everything to make Davis look bad, but I didn’t call myself Courtney’s ride or die for the fun of it. She was my best friend who had my back even after ten years of radio silence. I’d sure as fuck have hers.
Besides, if there was one thing I learned after four years of high school mock trial, it was that the truth didn’t win in court.
The best argument did.
“Oh my goodness.” “This doesn’t sound right.” “Police corruption.” “All you care about is your case-closure rate. Can’t be bothered to conduct a real investigation.”
Murmurs and not-so-whispered whispers rolled over the crowd. If these people were my jury, they were definitely voting not guilty.
“Hey, let her go,” someone shouted. “Anyone can stick a knife in an unattended bag.”