Dark and Shallow Lies(46)

“Wrynn told me she saw da rougarou go after Elora dat night. Now, maybe dat’s true, and maybe it ain’t.” Case shrugs. “But she said she picked up dat medal. After.” He points a swollen purple finger in my direction. “And den she got scared. She’s just a kid, right? So she went and hid in Miss Roselyn’s shed. And dat’s when she dropped Saint Sebastian. Only she didn’t tell me till later.”

“So you came back for it,” I say, and Case nods.

“Been lookin’ for it all summer.

“Because you knew if anybody found it, it’d make you look guilty.”

Case shakes his head. “I came back for it ’cause Wrynn wanted it. Little Bird loved Elora, too.” He stares us all down. Like he’d just as soon throw us in the river as look at us. “And dat medal is the only thing of Elora’s she had.” His voice quivers, and he turns his head to spit more blood. Then he struggles to his feet. “You all ain’t gotta believe me. But I swear to God, I didn’t kill my girl.”

“She wasn’t your fucking girl,” Hart snarls through clenched teeth.

Case puffs up like a pissed-off bullfrog, but then he deflates right in front of our eyes. Like somebody stuck him with a pin. “I didn’t kill her, Hart,” he says. “I never touched a hair on her goddamn beautiful head. I swear dat on my mama’s life.”

The two of them stare at each other for a long, silent minute while the rest of us stand there holding our breath. Waiting for one of them to throw the next punch.

“He’s telling the truth.” Hart’s voice is so quiet, I almost don’t hear him.

“But –” I start.

“Dammit!” Hart turns and kicks an old wooden crate as hard as he can, sending it skittering across the dock and crashing into the river. We hear the splash. “I said he didn’t do this. I feel it clear now.”

“Hart –” I reach for his hand, but he flinches away from my touch.

“Don’t,” he growls.

Then he stalks off down the boardwalk toward his house, leaving the rest of us reeling. And he doesn’t look back.

Evie wails and tears herself away from Sander to take a few steps after Hart, but Sera puts out a hand to stop her. “Let him go, Evie. He’ll be okay.”

And I’m relieved. Because it’s not Case. He isn’t the one. But I’m also lost, because . . .

if it wasn’t Case . . .

and it wasn’t Dempsey Fontenot . . .

and it sure as hell wasn’t a swamp werewolf . . . then who killed Elora?

“Hart’s been wastin’ all dis time talkin’ shit about me.” Case’s voice is low and wounded. “And I ain’t never hurt nobody. Y’all shoulda know’d dat.” He looks at us, one by one. But nobody meets his eyes. “Hell. Hart shoulda know’d dat.” Case turns and spits. More blood. “That asshole got one thing right, though. Elora wasn’t my girl. Not any more.” The bitterness drips out of his mouth like the blood drips from his swollen nose. “I told you dat, Grey. You find whoever it is she was runnin’ around on me wit’, and I bet you find who killed ’er.” He turns to go.

“Case, I’m sorry, I –”

His words cut me open. “I don’t need your fuckin’ sorry. I need to know what happened to Elora.”

“Me too,” I tell him.

And then I let him go. Because there’s nothing else to say.

The five of us who are left look at each other. Evie’s wind chimes are whispering again.

“Who was Elora in love with?” I ask.

But all I get are blank stares and shrugs. I look around the little group.

“Was it you?” I ask Mackey.

“Me? Nah.” Mackey shakes his head. “It was never like that between Elora and me.”

“Who, then?” I turn to look at Sander. “You?”

He looks at me, surprised, and shakes his head. Then he pushes those sand-and-copper waves out of his face, so I can see his eyes, and he blinks at Sera like there’s something he wants her to tell me.

“Sander likes boys,” she says, just like she’s telling me the sky is blue. And it’s clear I’m the only one out of the loop on that.

Why are there so many holes in what I know about the people I’m supposed to know best?

Why haven’t I been paying attention?

Suddenly, I wonder if Zale was telling me the truth this morning. When he said he and Elora weren’t in love. The thought makes me nauseous. Because I believed him so easy.

But what if he’s the one?

“If Elora was in deep with anybody,” Sera is saying, “it was probably some guy from upriver. One of the Kinter boys she was always messin’ around with. Somebody like that.”

Great.

That could be any of a hundred guys.

I turn my attention to Evie. She’s burrowed into Sander’s chest. Her hair covers her face, and she’s still crying softly. “Evie,” I tell her. “If you know something. Or if you’re hearing something. Voices or –”

“I don’t,” she sniffs. “I’m not.”

“If you’re hearing Elora –”

“Stop it!” she wails, and Sera shoots me a dirty look. “I’m not!”