We Told Six Lies(64)

“You needed that money so you could take Molly.” She nods along to her own story. “Maybe you just planned to keep her somewhere, but something went wrong.”

I start to defend myself, but how can I do that? I have no arguments left.

“Cobain, I’m going to ask you this very simply, and I’d like it if you gave me a simple answer.” Detective Hernandez locks her eyes on me. “Do you know where Molly is?”

I look at her for a long time. She opens her arms wide on the table, shakes her head once or twice. She wants so badly for me to surprise her. I want to surprise her, too.

But I can’t.

“No.”

She breathes forcefully through her nostrils and then waves at someone behind a mirror. I wonder how many people are watching me from behind there. Am I putting on a good performance? Do they believe I’m innocent? Because if they knew the random shit playing on repeat in my head, they’d want to dice my brain up and slide it beneath a microscope. Label it EVIDENCE.

Green trees.

Blue water.

A white dog.

Barking.

The smell of water.

Breathlessness.

Something in my peripheral, flying closer—

A crow.

A person comes in carrying a red bag and a tablet. It’s a young guy with zits around his jawline that bulge red and white. Patriotic. He places both items on the table, then walks back out of the room.

Detective Hernandez asks me one last question. “Cobain, do you have anything at all you’d like to tell us? This is your last chance.”

I look at the bag. The tablet. No matter what you say, they say, we will destroy you.

And so I stay quiet, my mind racing, fear making my fingers and toes go numb.

Detective Hernandez sighs, dejected, and slides the tablet toward her. She enters a password to unlock the thing, clicks a few buttons, and then turns it so I can see.

“I think it’s time we show you this,” she says firmly. “We got it this morning.”

My hands start to shake, and my entire body feels electric. I have no idea what to expect. No idea what to believe. I don’t know how I got here, how this all happened.

How is this happening?

I don’t know anything anymore.

Except that they’re looking at me like I’m a monster.

Let’s see if they’re right.

The video starts to play, and I watch the night of Molly’s disappearance unfold.





THEN


You took me to a party.

I’m not even sure you wanted to. You’d been distant ever since I came to your room, despite what you’d said the next morning. I’d thought a lot about how I’d screwed up that day at your house. I should have just kept my mouth shut. I should have used that mouth to taste every last part of your body.

Despite the crap that happened, I couldn’t keep my eyes off your legs. You wore a skirt, and blue tights I wanted to tear off with my teeth. I wanted to trail my lips up the insides of your thighs and spread your legs with my hands and hold them open—wide open—against the ground.

I wanted us to connect again. I wanted you to stop looking at me with this expression that said I was ripping you into pieces. Because you were the one ripping me apart, Molly. It was you.

I reached over and grabbed your hand, and you gave me a smile that stretched from your chin to your hairline…but it skipped your eyes.

You were worried about something, I knew. So I took your fingers in my hand and tried to do the squeeze tactic like you did on me. After a few times, you clenched your hand around mine, shook it playfully, and put your hand back on the steering wheel.

I wanted to turn the wheel and drive us both into a tree to get your attention.

If you knew the kind of stuff I thought, would you have been in the car with me?

Maybe you did know.

Maybe that’s why you ran.

The party was in a field outside an abandoned house. We’d been there before. There was a man who lived an acre away who would sometimes come up the road yelling for us to get out of there. We’d run or drive away as fast as we could. I sometimes wondered who had more fun in those moments—us, or the man who got to feel like a big shot.

As we stood around the fire, you reached over and planted a kiss on my mouth. It was a surface level kiss, like you were kissing my lips, but not me. But then you pulled back, and the smile on your face faded. You looked at me differently then, and I wrapped my arm around your waist.

“Molly,” I said. “What the fuck is going on with us?”

It smelled of campfire smoke, and the taste of beer clung to my lips, and yours, too.

Your eyes lowered.

“I’m going to get us that cash,” I said, not telling you I’d lost my chance.

You looked at me. “You would, wouldn’t you? Just because I asked.”

I grabbed your shoulders. “Because I want to get out of here, too. And yes, because you’re unhappy here. Your dad—”

You held a finger to my lips.

Grabbed my hand.

Led me to the house.

I’d like to say I was surprised by what you were about to do. But I knew. I knew, and I felt myself grow hard before you even walked inside that abandoned house and shut the door behind us.

There was another couple leaning against the wall, hands down pants, hands up shirts. The guy looked over the girl’s shoulder at me, frowned, and returned to the girl.