Of the Trees(46)

“He was at the town carnival,” Cassie said after she was done describing Jude. She spoke to Officer Gibbons, the older of the two officers who seemed the most calm. “I thought he would have left town then, but I guess he didn’t.”

“And these other kids, you say from St. Paul’s?”

“They said from St. Paul’s,” Cassie emphasized. “I don’t know. I think a couple of them I recognize from the carnival, too.”

“Cassie,” Laney interrupted in a small voice, speaking for the first time in half an hour, “You don’t think it’s possible that maybe the fact that you were drinking messed you up a bit?”

Cassie felt her jaw drop as she whipped around to look at her friend. Laney grimaced, shrugging her shoulders in a helpless kind of way. The cops held identical expressions: raised eyebrows, pursed lips.

“I’m sorry, I just think it’s relevant, that’s all.”

“So, there was drinking?” the nervous one prompted. Cassie felt as though she had been hit in the chest.

“Yeah, some,” she admitted. “But I know what I saw. It was Jude. She called him by name! It was the same guy.”

“Honestly Cass, I think it has something to do with what happened between you and Aidan. You know, against that tree. I think it freaked you out a bit,” Laney whispered. Cassie felt her face go red with equal measures of embarrassment and rage even as the name threw her. Shame coursed through her as she realized that she hadn’t even known the boy’s name before now. But, of course she knew who Laney was talking about. Blue Eyes. She turned and glared at her friend, only to find Laney’s gaze trained on her sneakers.

“Who’s Aidan?” her mother asked sharply.

“It has nothing to do with that!” Cassie sputtered, looking back across the table at the police officers. “Although, yes, he’s one of them, too. I saw him that night as well. So did you! And so did Jessica! And now—”

“Who’s Aidan?” her mother and Officer Gibbons interrupted.

Cassie gritted her teeth and before she could answer, Laney supplied, “One of Corey’s friends. He and Cassie—Well, they … ” She waved her hands about in helpless admission. Cassie was burning with such fury that she had trouble speaking.

“Nothing happened. He was pushy and grabby, but nothing happened.”

“You were pretty freaked out when you asked me to drive you home,” Laney countered quietly.

“So you left,” the police officer supplied. “But Miss Evans and this Jude were still there?”

“Yes, dancing.”

Officer Gibbons jotted something down, seeming to make his mind up. He stood up, the chair creaking with his shift in weight. “We have some more interviews to do. We’ll check into everything.”

Cassie felt as though school had ended, and class was dismissed. Both officers left the room and an uncomfortable silence swelled around them.

“I think I should take you home,” Cathy said, her voice quiet. Cassie didn’t have the energy left to argue. All her anger was fluctuating, first toward Laney and then toward the carnies and then when she realized why, remembered that Jessica was dead, her lifeless body encased in black plastic somewhere in the basement beneath her feet, she just wanted to go home, too.

Laney mumbled her goodbye after refusing a ride home from Cathy. She jingled her car keys in a defeated sort of way, and Cassie didn’t even look back at her as she followed her mother to the parking lot.

“Can you just tell me one thing, Mom?” Cassie asked after they were safely cruising down the backroads toward their home. Her head bobbed lightly against the cold window pane that she kept it pressed to. It had started to rain, and drops of water splashed onto the glass, traveling sideways down the window as they got caught in the wind. Cathy looked briefly from the road to her daughter.

“I think there’s a lot we are going to have to talk about when we get home.”

Cassie nodded in silent agreement, pulling her lower lip through her teeth. She spoke softly and slowly, not sure why it mattered, but somehow sure that it did. “What happened to Jess’s feet?”

She didn’t miss the way her mother’s hands spasmed on the steering wheel, or the way the skin all up her arm tightened, trembling with the sudden pull of the muscle. Her mother drove quietly for a moment, her expression torn.

“I don’t really think—” She broke off at Cassie’s gentle sigh, looking to her daughter once more. “I’ve never seen anything like that before,” she said instead, swallowing hard. The rain picked up, pounding down on the car in a frantic rhythm. Cassie twisted in her seat, watching her mother. “They, her feet, were swollen and bruised. I’m not sure what caused it.”

“Like she was hit or something?” Cassie asked, her brow scrunched as she tried to picture it, tried to picture how injuries like that could happen. Cathy shook her head.

“No, not hit,” Cathy said, pausing. She licked her bottom lip, pulling the fleshy bit into her mouth before releasing it with a deep breath. “They were edematous, but not solely from bruising. There were no fractures, some lacerations on the sole, but no—”

“Mom, in English, please,” Cassie pleaded, only able to make out a few of the words her mother was using. Cathy Harris sighed.