Lies We Bury(82)

“Lily was safe because she was never going to compete with you for the limelight with that limp. Those surgeries for her defect would always mean she played second fiddle to your need to be Rosemary’s favorite and everyone’s exasperating troublemaker.”

A tear splashes the bare skin of my knee, hearing the depth of my sister’s hatred for me. “That’s not true.”

She returns my gaze with cold indifference.

“Whatever you do with me, you’ll be looked at next. The police will investigate everyone.”

“Sure they will. But with the only conclusive evidence pointing to you, Lily and I won’t be given a second glance.”

Panic tightens my chest, knowing she’s right. “And Shia? Did you plan this whole thing together? Is that why you gave me a story about rejecting being a source for his book, so I wouldn’t pair you two as partners? Have our interviews all been part of your plan for me?”

A shadow slides down Jenessa’s face, wiping clean her smug grin. “I wasn’t sure you’d meet with the journalist after I told you to stay away from the media—told you how they ruined my life. But, true to form, you put yourself first. Even after you started working with the Post and no longer needed money, I followed you over the last week, watched you provide him with all the details.”

Too late, I realize my mistake, and she takes a step closer to me. Cocks, then uncocks, the gun. Cocks. Uncocks. Frenzy casts a red hue on her skin. “But I should be used to your betrayals by now. What matters is you have photos of the dead bodies on your laptop.”

The words sting, feel amplified, given everything I’ve learned in this room. “I still don’t understand. How could you have orchestrated all of this by yourself, kidnapped your victims, restrained them, and deposited the bodies in the tunnels alone? Who was your partner?”

Jenessa laughs, then scratches her head with the gun. “You think you have this distrust of men because of Chet or whatever, but you can’t imagine I could do all of these things alone because I’m a woman. Well, hate to disappoint you, but I didn’t need anyone else, and I had all the tools necessary. Chloroform, chains, restraints, transport dollies. I had the knowledge that each of these idiots deserved what they got.”

I shudder at her satisfied expression. “I didn’t think you could do it all on your own because I love you. Because I thought you were a good person.”

“Sure you did.” She waves the gun, then points it at her temple and pretends to shoot herself.

“Jenessa.” I breathe deep. “How do you think this ends? You skip town after the police clear you of all involvement, taking the money that your dark-web assassins paid you? It can’t be that much for only four victims. What happens then?”

“Actually, it’s close to a million dollars. Rich freaks from out of state keep moving here and find that spending their real estate money can be difficult in a sweet city like Portland. The cost of living is so low; the cost of recreation isn’t what they’re used to, either. Tack on the fifteen grand reward I’m about to get for turning you in, and I’m set up for a little while.”

I try to swallow and find my mouth is dry. The puddle around the water glass on the coffee table continues to spread, but I can’t move. Can’t do anything except stare at this stranger, my sister. She’s right. The plan she’s just described will work out fine.

I brace myself to whisper the question that matters most. “We’re sisters. How could you do this to me?”

She raises the gun and points it at my heart. Cocks. Uncocks. “The same way you betrayed me all those years ago.”

I hear another click and shut my eyes.

“Easily.”





Thirty-Three

When Shia asked me about my earliest memory, it wasn’t Lily’s birth announcement or Bethel’s pregnant belly that came to mind, not really—it was playing with Jenessa. We would have been around three years old. Nora had us coloring pumpkins that she must have drawn on paper. Jenessa and I reached for the orange crayon at the same time, beginning our first battle of wills.

As kids, we called each other “Twin.” From the time we were born to the time we went to live in separate homes. I’m sure the nickname probably came from one of our mothers—Go play with your twin—as though we were from the same womb instead of two different women. Siblings are often our first friends. And Jenessa was mine. We were best friends until Lily came along, but even afterward, we were close.

Looking at the grown woman brandishing a gun before me, I don’t recognize her anymore, my “twin,” or recognize any shred of decency in this husk of a person.

“Here,” she says, throwing a pair of workman’s gloves in my lap. “Put these on.”

I do as I’m told and glance at the fireplace poker again. My eyes land on Chet’s body. What might have happened if I hadn’t arrived when I did? Did Jenessa intend to kill Chet all along? He kept saying he wasn’t there to see Nora but to build bridges between us, to reconnect as a family. Did he speak to Lily?

I stand and plant my feet closer to the poker than is necessary. Jenessa scoffs. “Tut-tut. Outside. Now.”

She uses the pistol as a crosswalk attendant might, directing the flow of traffic. “Through the kitchen. Let’s go.”