Real Bad Things(65)

“They arrested me,” Jane said by way of explanation. “I didn’t really have an opportunity to grab personal items.”

“They wouldn’t have arrested you if you hadn’t confessed,” Georgia Lee said. Bitterness lined every word.

Diane took a drag off her cigarette and propped a hand on her hip. “But she did, didn’t she?”

Georgia Lee glared at her and then returned her attention to Jane. “But you got out. You came back, right?” Jane nodded, thinking. “Did you see the photos? Were they still here?”

Jane held her gaze. “I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember?” As Georgia Lee’s voice slid up the scale of hysteria, Diane looked on calmly. Of course she hadn’t taken them. As soon as they’d released her, she’d left town. Without notice. Without so much as a goodbye. “How could you forget? How could you not take them with you? Or destroy them?”

Jane was sober and awake now. “So sorry I didn’t grab a bunch of photos. I was trying to get out of town before the cops changed their mind or my mom tried to kill me.”

Georgia Lee looked to Diane. She shrugged as if to confirm.

Diane sauntered closer, blew smoke toward Georgia Lee, and slung her purse strap on her shoulder. “Looks like someone’s chickens finally come home to roost.” She nearly spit out the words. They trailed behind her as she slunk toward the front door and slammed it on her way out, causing Georgia Lee to jump.

She swirled in the memories of the last night she’d spent within these walls. The room began to spin again. She closed her eyes and reached out her hand until it found a kitchen chair. She sat down and waited for the spins to pass before she opened her eyes.

The scratched table she sat at looked the same as it had the night she’d fought with Warren. “Do you have something to drink?”

Jane rifled through the cabinet they used to raid. Diane never seemed to notice her missing wares. After filling two glasses from a cheap bottle of whiskey, Jane slid one toward her.

Georgia Lee downed it, grimaced, stood. She paced in front of the couch. The walls and carpet were darker than she remembered. The space more cramped. Her hands shook. She shoved them in the pockets of her smock, whose removal kept slipping her memory.

She grabbed the whiskey bottle, poured herself another drink, downed it, and grimaced once more. If only she’d parked somewhere else. Warren would’ve complained at her presence like always but would not have chased her down. Her life would be so different. She and Jane would probably have broken up over some petty thing, their lives no worse for wear. Georgia Lee sulked into the kitchen chair she’d recently vacated.

“I didn’t give them the photos,” Jane said. “I swear.”

“Because you forgot about them.”

Jane stared at her without blinking. “I just got out of jail.”

“Juvie,” Georgia Lee corrected.

“What do you think juvie is? Summer camp? It’s jail for teenagers. Same fucking thing.”

“If not you and not Diane, then it had to be Angie.” Suddenly, it became clear to Georgia Lee, the one other person who knew something and had a motive. Little bird. “She’s the only one who has a reason to point the finger at us. Maybe it’s a plea deal.”

Jane closed her eyes and tilted her head backward in exasperation. “She’s not up to something. She hasn’t said anything.”

“How would you know? Did you find her? Do you believe her?” One look at Jane’s face said it all. “Of course you do.”

Georgia Lee walked to the couch and plopped onto it, purse still hanging from the crook of her arm. She dropped her head between her knees and began her breathing exercises even though taco-and alcohol-spiked bile burned on its way up her throat. She wanted to cry again.

No, she wouldn’t cry anymore. Crying only ruined her makeup.

The cushions depressed when Jane sat down next to her. She waited for a hand at her back, rubbing out the pain, but it didn’t come.

“Why is everyone talking about this?” Jane asked.

“Why do you think?” Maud’s only claim to fame. Georgia Lee lifted her head and smoothed the jeans that didn’t need smoothing, but it seemed like the thing to do.

“Shit.” Now Jane was the one with her head propped in her hands. She focused forward, lost in thought. “What’s the latest?”

“They got everyone thinking Warren had some problem with you and your lover.” She hated the word. “And that meant we murdered him so we could run away together and live happily ever after.”

Jane inhaled and exhaled into her fist. “If only he’d had a problem with us instead of everything else.” A motive that people could understand. If only things had been that easy.

“Why did you give her money?” Jane asked.

Georgia Lee stared at the carpet. Stupid, stupid woman. She never should’ve believed Diane or left the money there. Now it was gone. “She promised me she’d keep my name out of the papers if I paid for the funeral.”

Jane groaned.

“What?”

“I paid for the funeral.”

“Looks like we’re both suckers.”

“Looks like.”

Jane’s thigh was warm against Georgia Lee’s. She wanted to move away, she should move away. She was compromised. By the photos. By alcohol, emotions, holding everything so tight within her. Any minute she’d burst like a tomato shot through with a gun like in those slow-motion videos.