Nice Girls(20)

“I guess we’re joining him?” asked Dwayne, looking bewildered.

“I guess we are.”



The Jewel of Liberty Lake had a posh stone patio in the back. It also had an expensive grill, hot tub, bar, and furniture for its tenants to use. Dwayne, Charice, and I rushed past all of it, following Jayden’s trail as he sped down a stone path that led to the lakefront. It was freezing outside, the cold air cutting at me beneath my leather jacket.

There was a small group of people gathered on the sand about a yard away from the water. They surrounded something unseen. Jayden disappeared into the crowd first, sidestepping past an older couple and a blond woman who held her pug.

We sped up, passing by two runners who stood separate from the others. One was hunched over, his hands on his knees, taking deep breaths. Suddenly he gagged onto the sand, long strands of saliva dripping out of his mouth. The other runner stood by, patting him on the back.

“Excuse us,” Dwayne said politely to the older couple. They stepped aside without turning.

At first, I wasn’t sure what we were looking at. It looked like a mottled tree branch in the sand, slightly damp from the water. It split off into individual nubs. At the other end, there were ragged pieces of bark where the branch had separated from the tree. A small chunk of white protruded past it, and it glowed brighter than the sand.

It was a human forearm.

The fingers were spread out, the palm facing downward as if splayed over a piano. Fish had already eaten away at chunks of the forearm, leaving wide gaps within the gray flesh. A pale bone stuck out from where the forearm had once been connected to the rest of the body. It had been completely severed.

I could feel the bile rising up my throat. I was almost afraid to swallow, as if I’d been contaminated.

I thought of Olivia’s house, where I often played as a child. The two of us adored the neighbor’s dog behind the white picket fence. If you stepped on a rung, you could stick your hand over it and pet the dog’s head. One time, Olivia whipped her arm back too quickly, and the picket sliced through the tender flesh of her underarm. The blood had flowed out in one long, steady stream. She bled so badly that she’d needed stitches.

Olivia hadn’t run away.

She had been murdered here in Liberty Lake, her body ripped apart and dumped in the water.

The crowd was quiet, staring at the arm, almost too afraid to speak.

“Did anyone call the police?” Dwayne asked quietly.

“I called them a few minutes ago. They’ll be here soon,” said the pug owner.

A man nearby was taking pictures on his phone. Jayden noticed it, and he looked enraged.

“Damn, have some respect,” said Jayden. The man looked up, livid, his mustache slightly curling.

“You should mind your own business,” said the man.

“You’re taking pictures of a murder scene.”

“They’re for the police and the news people. First Amendment rights. Again, mind your own business.”

“You’re being distasteful,” said Jayden.

“I’m distasteful?” The man’s lip curled as he gave Jayden a once-over, the contempt radiating off him.

Charice held on to Jayden’s arm. She looked over at Dwayne for help. If Jayden picked a fight on the beach, there would be no winning outcome for him. And with the police coming, things would only go downhill.

Jayden sensed this, too, and he glared back down at the sand. The man kept taking photos.

“It’s Olivia Willand, isn’t it?” asked one of the runners.

“Most likely,” said the man with the cell phone.

The older woman shook her head.

“That poor girl,” she said. I realized that she was crying, her shoulders shaking in her husband’s arms. “That beautiful girl. God rest her soul.”

We were all thinking of the picture that had circulated on the news: Olivia in high school, radiant in her white dress. Young, beautiful, promising. Now hacked apart.

We hadn’t been friends for about a decade now. It had been years since we’d spoken to each other. Even longer since we’d been amicable. But there was a history between us. A childhood. I had loved her once. Now she was gone.

And what had I done in the last few days?

I hadn’t looked for her. I hadn’t worried. I hadn’t cared.

I had brushed her off like a fly.

All while she’d been murdered here in town.

I felt Dwayne’s hand on my back as I wept.



By the time the police arrived at the beach, Dwayne was already driving us away from the Jewel. Jayden didn’t want to stay for the police. He was anxious about it, no doubt thinking about the party and wondering if Van had, in fact, snitched.

After what we saw on the beach, none of us were hungry anymore. We left the food untouched back in Dwayne’s apartment.

By the time he dropped me off at my house, I was already tired again, my eyes heavy and wet. I wanted to be alone in my room, curled under the sheets in a deep sleep.

“See you Monday,” said Dwayne as I climbed out of the car.

“Bye, Mary.” Charice was half waving out the window.

“Happy birthday, Jayden,” I said.

He nodded glumly from the back seat, and then they left.

Inside the house, I went upstairs to my room and crawled into bed. I heard Dad come out of his room. He was hovering outside my door, straining to hear that I’d come home safely. Once the news spread in town, other parents would do the same.