Sixteen
“I can’t believe I have to say this, but murder is wrong.
” That’s the Chicago chief of police at one Canceled Killer press conferences.
“To the public—please stop encouraging homicide on our streets. I’ll remind you we don’t actually know the motives of this killer.
And even if we did, there’s no good justification for murder. ”
—Crime Hive podcast
That day I fell through the ice, it was the mitten I remember.
I’d lost it in the snow while sledding on that warmer-than-usual December day on a hill by the lake.
Robbie Blythe had grabbed my mitten and run away with it, taunting me as he did so.
Mom thought Robbie had a crush on me, which was why he teased me relentlessly, because boys were taught that bad behavior should be forgiven and girls should just be gratified to have their attention, no matter what form it took.
I’d clomped after him, determined to retrieve my mitten and give the little jerk the shin-kicking of a lifetime.
Behind me, I heard the squeals of delight from the other kids on the hill, including Olivia and Oscar.
A few parents sipped coffee at the bottom of the slope or in the newly plowed parking lot.
I was far from the crowd, and Robbie was already out on the iced-over lake.
“Give it back,” I demanded.
“Come get it,” Robbie taunted. He hung out that pink mitten just to taunt me as he took another step away from shore.
“We’re not supposed to be out this far,” I told him. But he didn’t care. He just stuck his tongue out at me.
“You scared?” the jerk said, and then he stomped his foot against the snow covering the ice.
“Stop that,” I demanded. He didn’t. He kicked snow at me, digging out a small, wet circle near his feet, revealing the icy surface below. Then he stomped again.
The first hairline crack appeared under his left snow boot and traveled right to me.
“Robbie, don’t move,” I cautioned.
Robbie looked down. He didn’t do as I said.
Instead, he flung the mitten at my face and ran, stomping hard on the ice as he went.
He gave me a hard shove as he passed, and I stumbled back and fell on my butt.
The spider crack grew larger, bigger, slicing apart the ice beneath me.
Before I could even move, the surface gave way.
The icy surge of water sent my body into shock.
I kicked my heavy boots and bounced up to the surface.
Robbie was long gone. No one was here to help.
I reached for the edge of the ice, but it was too slippery to hold.
I tried to keep my head above water, but my wet snowsuit and heavy rubber soles dragged me down.
Someone shouted my name. Someone was running toward me. All this time, I thought it had been Oscar, but in my memory now, it wasn’t. Oscar stood at the edge of the lake, and he looked scared. He also was holding Olivia back, because she wanted to run after me. He was shouting.
Someone else was coming out to me, crawling on all fours, carefully distributing his weight on the ice.
It was Jude, whipping his plaid scarf from around his neck, knocking his own glasses off. They fell into the water and sank beneath the frigid surface. “Here! Grab this!”
Oscar appeared next, having handed over Olivia to an adult. He grabbed Jude’s feet. They both helped pull me out. But Jude was there first.
How did I forget that detail?
A rogue lake wave slapped away the memory, and I wasn’t a little kid anymore, and it wasn’t winter, but fall, and the water was cold but not freezing.
Jude waved at me frantically from the dock, as he flipped a foam life preserver into the water, attached by a bright orange rope—the preserver the city put there as a safety precaution the year after I fell in.
It landed a foot from me, splashing water in my face.
I grabbed the ring, and Jude pulled me, just like he had all those years ago, when he’d fished me out of the ice.
I coughed as he tugged me out of the lake, my jeans soaked and dripping, Olivia’s KENOUGH sweatshirt plastered to my chest, my hair a matted, wet mess.
“You okay?” he asked me, eyes bright with concern.
“You. It was you.”
“Me what?”
“You pulled me out of the l-lake,” I sputtered.
“I didn’t think you wanted to take a morning swim,” Jude said, logically. “Was I wrong?”
“Not now,” I whined. “I mean, of course you fished me out of the lake now. I mean, back then. When we were kids. On the ice. You pulled me out.”
Understanding dawned on his face. “Me and Oscar,” he corrected.
“Yeah, but you were there first… Your scarf. You saved me.”
“I know,” Jude said. “Come on. Let’s get you away from here.”
“You lost your glasses.”
“Yeah. Mama wasn’t happy about that. Would you do me a favor?”
“What?” I asked, shivering as my wet clothes stuck to me. Water droplets dripped off my nose, plunking on the dock near my soaking-wet Converse.
“Stop trying to kill yourself in this damn lake!”
“Very funny. The water isn’t even that cold,” I lied as I shuddered in the early morning chill. Jude whipped off his flannel shacket and covered me in it.
“Where’s the Wagoneer?” I asked, teeth chattering.
“Went off that way,” Jude said, nodding toward the shoreline drive. He rubbed my arms, trying to warm me.
“Why did you come after me?” I asked him. “You could’ve fallen in. You could’ve died, too.”
Jude looked puzzled. “I saved you because it was the right thing to do.” And there, in that one line, was Jude.
The right thing to do. He was always doing the right thing. Whether it was dangerous or not. Whether it was hard or not. Jude’s moral compass never faltered.
And it was then that I realized Jude didn’t just follow the rules when it was convenient, or because he was scared of breaking them. He followed the rules out of a sense of moral obligation. For a greater good.
Then I saw the sheriff’s red and blue flashing lights heading toward us.
“Why’d you call Oscar?” I grumbled as my teeth clattered.
“Because you were hanging off the back of a speeding vehicle!” Jude protested.
Oscar abruptly came to a stop at the end of the pier and hopped out of his sheriff’s SUV, stalking toward us. I felt like a drowned rat.
“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?”
“Trying to catch the Canceled Killer,” I said. “He’s in that white vintage Jeep Wagoneer. Went that way.” I pointed a finger down the shoreline road.
“What part of let the professionals handle this do you not understand?” Oscar huffed, anger flashing in his eyes. Then he turned on Jude, angry. “And you, I told you to watch her.”
“He was watching me,” I said, defending him. “Actually, too well as it happens.”
Jude’s eyes grew wide. I hadn’t meant to let that slip, but here we were.
“What the hell does that mean?” Oscar glanced from me to Jude and back again.
“It means what you think it means,” I said, stepping closer to Jude. “Jude has one bed, Oscar. You think you would’ve remembered that when you let me go there.”
Oscar scrubbed his face. “Do you always do the exact opposite of what I ask you to do?”
“I try,” I said.
“I just… I just cannot handle this right now.”
“Why are you so upset?” I asked. “Jude is a grown-up, and so am I and…”
“I am just trying to look after people I care about, but you make it so damn hard. I’m trying to save you both from making a dumb mistake.” Oscar shook his head.
I was a dumb mistake? Wow. He glared at Jude then. “I swear, Ella. You are Thin Ice. The town got it right.”
“You took full credit for saving me, but you weren’t the only one,” I pointed out. “Jude got to me first! You just took the credit.”
“I didn’t get any credit,” Oscar said. “I got grounded because I took my eye off you for one second. I missed my playoffs for basketball because Mom and Dad were furious with me, and they’ll be angrier now!”
I hadn’t realized Oscar had been grounded because of me.
“I can take care of myself,” I pointed out.
Oscar snorted, unconvinced. “And you—” Oscar turned to Jude. “You know you’re over your skies with her.”
“I know,” he said.
“What does that mean?” I asked, glancing back and forth between the two men. They seemed to be having an entire silent conversation that I couldn’t translate.
“Ask this one about his grandmother’s ring,” Oscar said, voice low.
Jude started to look uncomfortable. “Let’s not and say we did.”
“Ask him,” Oscar said, evenly.
I glanced at Jude. He wouldn’t look at me.
“Jude?” I asked.
“Ask him why he didn’t want to marry Kenzie. Ask him why she didn’t get his grandmother’s ring.”
I was starting to get an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I was starting to think I already knew the answer.
“Ask him about his living, breathing—” Oscar began.
“That’s enough,” Jude said in a tone so firm I think even Oscar was surprised. Jude never talked to Oscar with anything other than reverence. Jude turned to me. He looked almost apologetic.
“I’ve had a crush on you for years. That’s what Oscar’s trying to say.
I fell for you years ago. Oscar’s hoping that if you know this, it will destroy whatever is going on between us right now, because Oscar is jealous, and he doesn’t want to share you with me, or share me with you.
He never properly learned to share.” Jude glared at Oscar, who scowled back at him.
“Oh,” I said. I wasn’t sure how to process any of that. “So I’m… your…”
“Living, breathing kind of love. Yes.” Jude pushed up his glasses on his nose. “This was not the ideal way to tell you, but… yes.”
A shiver raked down my spine, either from the admission or due to the fact that I was dripping wet and freezing. My teeth clattered.
“You don’t have to do anything with the information,” he told me hastily. “You don’t have to freak out.”
I felt a little numb. What do you do when your brother’s best friend admits he loves you, capital-L Love? Oscar frowned at me. See? his eyes said. Told you Jude doesn’t do casual.