Chapter 16
“A woman was found shot to death beneath a rural bridge just off County Road 880. The body has been identified as thirty-three-year-old Sarah Armitage of Rustdale, Texas. Blaine County Sheriff’s Office is not releasing any other information as the investigation is ongoing. If you have any information on what happened to Sarah, please call the Sheriff’s department. We’ve listed their contact information on the screen.”
I stared at the television; Sarah’s face plastered across the screen for a few seconds longer. The news then switched to an arial shot of the crime scene after the fact, showing the old wooden bridge, the only crossing point over Hollow Creek. Nausea rolled over me as the camera zoomed down to the creek bed full of unmoving water. The anchor’s voice signified that was where she had been found. I shuddered at the thought of her body being left there—the audacity to just leave her like that.
Well, and then the other memories that went with that stupid bridge. I looked away from the TV, my eyes finding my hands folded in my lap. Garrett used to send a text to me, asking me to meet him at the fence, where the road dead ended. I’d ride Jett all the way there, cross the fence, and sit for hours with him, throwing rocks into the water below.
“It’s just horrible,” Mom said, her voice quiet but enough to break my thoughts. “They’re having the funeral service tomorrow at the church for her... I offered to make a casserole.”
I nodded, though I fought the urge to combat my mother’s need to supply food—like she wasn’t still in need of help herself. However, I decided to avoid it. “It feels so surreal that I literally just saw her,” I remarked instead, which was the truth. But before I could add to it, the sound of the side door opening caught my attention, and I looked over to my mom in her recliner. “Who is that?”
Mom’s eyes never left the television, her voice flat. “Just Blaze. He’s the only other one that has a key to the house.”
“Right,” I muttered, just as he stepped into the meager ranch-style living room.
“Hey, Mrs. Young,” he greeted my mom with a tip of his hat before turning to me. “Beth, I need to speak with you.”
I raised my eyebrows, unamused. “Why?”
His eyes bored into mine, unwavering and hard. “Apparently, there was an incident outside of Greg Martin’s law office today.”
My heart jumped. Uh oh.
“What in the world happened?” My mom gasped, her eyes going wide as they bounced between Blaze and me. “Beth, did you see something?”
“The details are a little fuzzy,” Blaze replied, his eyes still on me. “But according to Lucas Wilson, Beth thought it might be a good idea to nearly run him over after the two got into an argument of sorts. ”
“That is not what happened,” I jumped to defend myself as horror filled my mom’s face. “He was shouting at me, and he punched the hood of the truck when I didn’t have the answers he wanted. He was going crazy.”
Blaze’s facial expression didn’t shift. “Great, looks like this issue isn’t going to be resolved easy then, given your opposing statements.”
I stood to my feet, and ran my hands through my damp, fresh out of the shower hair, doing my best to contain my frustration. “I was heading back to the truck from Greg’s office when Lucas came out of nowhere. He started interrogating me, then he started talking about seeing Garrett that night—and then he mentioned…He mentioned Sam. ” My voice shook ever so slightly, and I was unable to add the accusation that he had put with it. Blaze and Mom were both quiet for a few moments. I cleared my throat, getting a better hold on myself. “But FYI, I didn’t come close to hitting him with the truck.”
I don’t think, anyway.
Blaze’s expression finally shifted, growing speculative and calculating as he took a low hit. “So, you saw Garrett that night, huh? That’s strange, since it’s not mentioned anywhere in the report or statement Sheriff Myers has for you.”
I glared at him, and his accusatory gibe. “Why wouldn’t it be in the report, Blaze? I told Sheriff Myers when he was here that I saw Garrett when I left out the back of Outlaws. I talked with him for a few minutes and then I left the bar—came straight home and saw you. ”
“You saw Garrett?” Mom’s question cut in, her voice sharper than the usual. “Why didn’t you tell me? I asked you…”
“I don’t know, Mom.” I turned to her, an overwhelming amount of guilt weighing on my chest as I took in the hurt on her face. “I haven’t talked to him in years, and he was so drunk—well, I at least think he was. His eyes were bright red, and his words were slurring. I didn’t think he’d remember, or that it would even matter. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him, and I know he’s basically the town drunk now, and I don’t?—”
“Beth,” I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. “Take a deep breath.”
I looked up at Blaze, instantly shrinking away at the unwanted moment of contact. “I don’t even know you. Don’t touch me.”
“Elizabeth Marianne Young,” Mom snapped, her voice cold. “That was completely uncalled for. He’s clearly just trying to help you. You look like you’re on the verge of a panic attack. I’m sorry that talking about Garrett bothers you so much.”
I shook my head, but all the emotions were making my body feel hot, as sweat beaded up across my forehead. I wiped at it, trying to get ahold of myself. “I can’t do this right now.” Before either of them could say anything else, I escaped through the living room and kitchen, ripping the back door open. It was still light out as I stumbled out onto the porch, trying to take a full breath.
Deep breath, Beth. Just take a freaking deep breath.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to think about anything else, but the trauma came flooding back in: the sound of the crash, the sirens on Sheriff Myers’ car, my brother’s excruciating cries, and the blood—oh my gosh, the blood. My stomach lurched violently, and I doubled over, barely making it to the edge of the porch before I vomited.
“Oh, Beth.” Mom’s hand landed on the small of my back as I was still leaning over, wiping at the corners of my mouth. “Are you okay? ”
I batted the tears from under my eyes and stood up straight, backing away from her touch carefully. “I’m fine. It’s just… Every time I’m here, it all comes back. I don’t know why I can’t let it go.”
She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. “It’s been over sixteen years, and if I let my mind go, it’ll feel like it was just yesterday. Losing him was hard, and I know how difficult it was for you—you were there , but you have to hold onto the good memories of him. Let the bad go.”
My hands trembled at my sides. “You’re right. It’s been sixteen years, and I still can’t set foot in this town without someone mentioning it. When they see me, all they think of is Sam. Even now, after all this time. People still believe whatever they want—and I hate it here because of it.”
Mom nodded, giving me an understanding look, though I could see the pain in her eyes. “You don’t have to stay here, Beth. I know what you experienced was devastating. Maybe we should schedule an appointment with Pastor Frank. He helped me and your dad so much after Sam passed. I no longer listen to the rumors. People around here just don’t have anything better to do than poke their noses in everyone else’s lives.”
“I don’t need more therapy. I just… I don’t know. It’s just always at the back of my mind, thinking that I could’ve done something different, but I don’t even remember everything that happened. I hit my head when the truck flipped.” I couldn’t look at her in the eye, even though it was the truth. When she had come to me with questions, I hadn’t had answers. I couldn’t remember.
“Well, you’re not the only one who thinks about it. You shouldn’t have been there in the truck with them,” Mom said, her voice strained as I met her gaze again. “I was supposed to pick you up that night from Sarah’s graduation party—not Sam. It’s just as much my fault that everything happened. Just like it’s my fault that your dad didn’t have his EpiPen that day he was out working on the new fence. I took it out of the toolbox, because I thought that wasp season was over.”
“Mom, no,” I shook my head. “None of it’s your fault—not dad and especially not Sam. It’s...” my voice trailed off, thinking of Garrett. “I don’t know whose fault it is.”
She pursed her lips at me, as if I was still missing the point. “We don’t live in a perfect world, Beth. People die for reasons that don’t seem fair, and there are consequences for our actions. But…” Her voice trailed off as she laughed dryly. “You know, there’re also plenty of times that people do stupid things, and nothing happens. Sometimes it’s just luck of the draw, I think. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m never going to fully understand it.”
“I guess so,” I agreed with a sigh, the taste of vomit still in my mouth. “But about today, I just don’t understand why Lucas came at me like that about Garrett. He acted like Garrett had... killed her. Why would he kill Sarah? He was too drunk for that…” I think?
She chewed her bottom lip as she plopped down in the rocking chair, a somber expression on her face. “I don’t know anything about Garrett’s life these days. Your dad never really told me much anyway, to be honest. He visited him often down at the auto shop—but he kept the conversations confidential... For Garrett’s sake, I think. I mean, I thought he was married, but here he was, at our house to see you. There was no ring on his finger.”
I nodded, hesitating as a burning question came to my mind. “Yeah, I don’t know about that part of his life, but Mom...”
“Yeah?” She looked more tired than ever, dark circles under her eyes as she rocked slowly, her black sweatpants and bleach-stained t-shirt a couple of sizes too big. “What is it, Beth?”
“Do you think he did it?”
“What?” She tilted her head in confusion.
“Do you think Garrett could’ve killed Sarah?” The question left my lips just as Blaze stepped out onto the back porch, his eyes widening.
Mom paused, before blowing out a sharp breath, the rocker creaking beneath her. “I don’t know. That would be a great question for your dad. I feel like he would know where Garrett was at better than I could guess. Your dad looked at him like a second son—even after everything. I never thought Garrett was capable of hurting a fly though, and he took Sam’s death so hard…”
I nodded, a lump growing in my throat. “Maybe I should talk to him,” I said, my hands beginning to sweat. “See where his head is at with all this. Lucas has always run his mouth, and if it starts getting around…”
“That’s a terrible idea,” Blaze cut in, his voice stern. “You might be a lawyer, but you’ll just impede the investigation—or put yourself in danger. You need to just leave the guy alone. I already warned you, Beth.”
I narrowed my gaze at him, the dried tears on my cheeks feeling sticky. “I know not to impede an investigation. I do this stuff for a living. Besides, for all you know, I could get information to help with the case.”
“Are you sure?” Blaze’s lips curled upward as he continued. “ Because rumor has it that you’ve started a new career as a stunt driver.”
There was a moment of silence between all three of us there on the porch, and then I burst into laughter, Mom and Blaze joining me... After all, if I didn’t laugh, I might just keep crying.
And I had already made my mind up.
I wanted answers…
About everything.