Where the Darkness Goes

Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

TESSA — PRESENT DAY

The next day, I lie in bed for far too long trying to convince myself last night never happened. Staying in this house and in this town is dangerous, and not just because of the killer who may or may not be on the loose. Staying here with Garrett feels like scraping open an old wound with my fingernails and digging deep within it, pulling out my insides and laying them on the table for examination.

I thought we were over this. I thought everything that happened between us was in the past, and we were evolved adults who had moved on, but after last night, I don’t know where my head is.

I can’t explain what happened to me other than to say I had a momentary lapse of sanity. All I know is that I’m relieved I left when I did, before things went too far.

Garrett is already at work, so I can dwell on it in silence while I have my morning coffee and create a plan for the day. I still don’t have my car back, though I need to check on it soon. Without a car, I can’t visit Mom yet, but Britney’s parents’ house is within walking distance of Will’s, so that’s where I’ll go.

When I arrive, the house is just like I remember it. A well-preserved tudor with a cobblestone circle drive and wrought- iron fence. There are a few people standing outside, and at first, I assume it must be Britney’s parents, but I soon realize I’m wrong. Of course I’m wrong.

The weight of that is agonizing—the ripping away of a reality in such a brutal manner I know it will never exist in my mind again. There was before , when I knew they were gone but hadn’t had to experience their absence, and now , when it’s front and center and unescapable.

Britney’s parents died a few years ago within months of each other. In a cruel twist of fate, cancer took them both just before they could meet their first grandchild.

Nearly to the house, I spot the cop car parked next to the overgrown shrub in the center of the driveway. From this distance it’s easy to recognize that the woman talking to the officer is Kristy. Her sunshine hair and delicate features mean she looks so much like Britney, but they were always inches apart in height.

At once, whether it’s because I’ve caught their attention or inadvertently made a sound, both the officer and Kristy turn their heads toward me.

It takes a second for recognition to register on Kristy’s face, but eventually it does. “Oh my gosh!” She rushes over to open the gate, and I can see now there are tears staining her cheeks. “It’s like you can sense when I need you most.” She throws both arms around my shoulders, collapsing into our hug. When she pulls back, she dries her eyes, sniffling. “What are you doing here?”

“I was coming to talk to you, actually,” I say, looking up at the officer. When I do, my heart skitters to a stop. I hadn’t recognized him from afar, but now, up close, it’s obvious. Even though it has been a few years since I last saw him, it couldn’t be anyone else.

“Sorry, we’re just finishing up.” Kristy waves toward him, noticing me staring. “Tessa, do you know?—”

“Brendan.” I nod, jaw slack.

He looks equally shocked to see me, but eventually he shakes his head as if to clear the fog and steps forward, outstretching his arm for a hug. “Tessa. Wow. I heard you were back in town.”

I lean into his hug briefly. “Yeah. For the funeral.”

“Right.” He folds his hands in front of him, looking back up at the house. “It’s awful. Britney was… It isn’t right. She was one of the good ones.”

“Have you got any leads?” I ask, probably overstepping, but it’s hard to feel the boundary with Brendan when we were once a bit more than intertwined.

“We’re following up on some things.” He gives me a wary look, then bounces his gaze to Kristy. “I’ll leave you two so you can talk.” He’s hesitant. “If you need anything…”

“I’ll call,” Kristy agrees. “Yeah, of course. Thanks again, Brendan.”

With that, he takes a step back, one hand in the air. “You guys be safe, okay? It was good to see you, Tessa.”

“You too.” He’s grown up well. Somehow, as he matured, he’s even more handsome than before. There’s a sad sort of nostalgia between us now. Not necessarily regret, but wonder. Did I make the right choice back then? Was there even a choice to make?

When he’s gone, Kristy lowers her voice. “So you said you were coming to talk to me? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Er, well, as okay as it can be. Nothing new is wrong anyway.” She visibly relaxes. ”I just wanted to check in on you and see if there’s anything I can do.” I want to hug her again, to tell her this is unfathomable, that Britney deserved the very best investigation, and I’m going to do all I can to make it happen.

But none of that will help.

“That’s sweet of you. Thank you.” She sniffles, looking down. “I’m staying here for a few days to help Justin with the girls, but I’m not sure I’m any help. I kind of feel like it’s me who died, you know? Is that awful to say? I don’t…” Pausing, she dabs her eyes again and sucks in a ragged, shaky breath. “I don’t know how to go on without her. I don’t know who I am without her. I need my sister. My nieces need their mother. I’m not enough for them. I can’t be. I can’t fix this.” Tears stream down her cheeks as she sniffles and looks away, her chin quivering.

I don’t know what to say or do, but I have to do something for Britney’s sake. Guilt gnaws at my stomach over the thought of her daughters. I should know them. I should be their aunt, too, like we always planned. Instead, I’ve only seen pictures.

“They’re lucky to have you.” I touch her arm gently. “You’re the only one left who can tell them all the crazy stories about Britney as a kid. Like all the times we tried to build Six Flags parks in your backyard by, like, attaching kiddie pools to lawn mowers and asking your dad to pull us around.”

Kristy laughs through her tears. “And then using that same pool to bob for apples.”

“Exactly.” I twist my mouth. “Brit lives on through you. She would want you to be okay. Those girls need you to be okay, you know?”

She’s still drying her tears when she says, “I meant what I said to you at the funeral. She always loved you. She was so proud of you for getting out and paving your own path.”

“I should’ve come back more,” I whisper, tears blurring my vision without warning. “I should’ve called.”

“You had a life to live, too.” Now she’s the one comforting me. “And so did she.” She smiles through her tears. “She had a really good life.” She draws in a deep breath, drying her eyes with the backs of her hands. “Do you, uh, do you want to come inside?”

“Oh.” I don’t know if I can handle it, but I nod anyway. “Yeah, okay. Sure.” Dread swells in the pit of my stomach like those gel beads in a vase of water as she leads me into a house that used to be as familiar as my own. The scent hits me all at once. It’s nothing I could ever describe—soap and warmth and love and happiness—but it’s been here all my life, as tangible as the pictures on the walls. A piece of this house as much as the roof is.

Tears spill over onto my cheeks as I study the pictures of Britney’s life on the walls. Her childhood. Her motherhood. It’s not fair. None of this is fair. The fact that we grew apart, and I never tried to fix it, the fact that I’ll never have a chance to tell her how much I love her. The fact that she’s gone.

Kristy leads me through the entryway and into the small sitting room where Britney practiced piano taught by Justin’s mom from next door when we were kids. I can’t help smiling remembering how much she used to complain about it afterward.

She was never the type to sit still long for anything, and Mrs. Davis tried her hardest to work with that, but the hobby was doomed from the start.

Together, we sit on the couches opposite each other. She grabs a tissue from the box and dabs her eyes. “You’ll have to ignore me. I don’t think I’ve stopped crying since we found out she was gone.”

I wave away her concern. “Don’t be silly. Of course you haven’t.”

“It’s just not fair.” She presses her lips together, chin quivering as tears overflow down her cheeks. It’s uncanny, their resemblance, and I find myself missing Britney more the longer I’m here. The house is too heavy, too full of memories. I don’t know how she can stand to be here. She dabs her eyes.

“Can I ask what you think happened?” I prompt, leaning forward over my legs. “And feel free to tell me to mind my own business if you don’t want to talk about it.”

She sniffles, drying under her nose and grabbing a new tissue. “I don’t mind talking about her. Already, no one really wants to. It’s too hard, even for me, but I don’t…I don’t want to stop talking about her because it hurts. It shouldn’t be easy.”

“No,” I agree, turning my attention to the rug under my feet. I wish it were as simple as asking these walls what happened. The fact that her last moments were here, that a home I once considered a fortress of warmth and safety, and where we ate chocolate-covered popcorn by the fire while we watched Gossip Girl and cheesy Hallmark movies, is now the place where something precious was stolen from us all. Thinking of Britney here, terrified and alone, hurt—it’s a pain like no other. She’s right. None of this is easy, because it shouldn’t be. The pain is the price we pay for getting to know and love her.

“No one’s really asked me what I think,” Kristy says finally, breaking the silence. “They all think I’m too stupid or emotional to know anything.”

I wait, letting her process her thoughts aloud.

“But I knew my sister. She was my best friend. She was my cheerleader and the person I went to for advice.” She drops her head forward, staring into her lap. “You know how she was.”

“I do.” She was everything. Britney was everything.

“She was happy,” Kristy says. “The cops are looking at Justin, but it wasn’t him. They were happy.” Her tone is so matter-of-fact it’s abrasive.

From what I remember of Justin, I can’t see him ever hurting anyone. One of the last times I saw her was when I came home to be in their wedding, and I still remember the way he doted on her.

It’s not lost on me, though, that secrets often lurk behind closed doors. I squint, remembering what Garrett told me about the night Britney was killed. “I thought he was out of town when it happened.”

She nods. If she’s shocked I know that, she doesn’t show it. In a town this small, we’re all used to everyone knowing the tiniest of details about each of our lives. There are no true secrets here, not for long.

“Yeah, he was, but the police can’t verify his alibi because he was driving alone. And I realize that sounds so sketchy, but Britney and Justin were good, you know? I just don’t believe he could’ve hurt her. She would’ve told me if things weren’t good.” Pausing, she leans forward over her legs, clasping her hands together on her thighs. “And everyone loved her. Everyone at the school, everyone in town. She was always trying to help people. They looked into parents in her classroom and families that went to dance with her girls, then they looked into Justin and his family, and me, of course, because clearly, I’m capable of evil like this.” She scoffs through her tears, which only seem to be getting more inconsolable. “And they said maybe she was having an affair, but when they couldn’t prove that, it was back to square one, which is nowhere. And then they started saying maybe she’d done it herself, and…and…” She’s sobbing too hard to finish the thought, covering her mouth with her hand. I move to sit next to her, pulling her over onto my shoulder and rocking us back and forth.

“It’s going to be okay.” I want to say it’s impossible that she could ever do this, but we both understand that I don’t know Britney anymore. Even if I once knew her better than anyone in the world.

Eventually, Kristy pulls back, sniffling as she says, “I don’t know if it is. I don’t even know if I’m allowed to tell you this, but Brendan was here earlier because he had a search warrant for the house. They were looking for any signs that either Britney or Justin had been having an affair.”

“And did they find anything?” I ask when she pauses.

“Well… They…” She drops her head into her hands, sobbing.

“Shhh…” I soothe. “What is it?”

She aggressively rubs her eyes, like she’s frustrated with herself. “Do you remember Cassidy Cole’s death?”

The question catches me so off guard it takes several seconds to process it. “Of course.” She was the third girl. Both she and her mom were killed on the same day, just like Amber Allen. Unlike Amber, Cassidy and Mrs. Cole were the first and only ones who were killed in different locations. Amber and Emily were both with their moms when they died.

“I don’t know if you’ll remember, but there was a necklace and bracelet that both went missing the night they died. Some big thing. I remember my parents talking about it.”

“Right.” I remember the robberies with startling clarity, but I can’t admit it to Kristy.

She sniffs and meets my eyes. “The police looked everywhere for the necklace because her dad swore it was a robbery gone wrong. But Cassidy wasn’t at home when she died, so it never made sense. And they never found the necklace.”

I remember some people thought she’d taken it with her the night she died. Along with… “They found the matching bracelet, right? It went missing too.”

“Yeah.” Her blue eyes search mine, and her mouth drops open, but at first she seems unable to speak. Finally, she utters, “Britney didn’t do it, Tessa. I swear to you she didn’t?—”

“What are you talking about?” I put my hands on her shoulders, trying to understand.

She massages the space along her jawline and under her ear slowly. “They, well, the police, they found the necklace here. When they were searching the house just now, Cassidy’s necklace was in with Britney’s things. And they were asking me questions. I think…I just, I got the impression they believe she had something to do with the murders.”