I could have sworn Adrianna’s face changed from tan to gray in that moment. “Who told you that?”
“I saw it in the police file.” There was no reason to hide the fact that I’d seen it there; eventually, in the book, I would have to share most of the information anyway. “Why didn’t you tell me, Adrianna?”
Adrianna sighed deeply, nudging her mug away. She was still wearing her wedding ring, I noticed. She spun it round and around on her finger, a nervous habit I’d forgotten she had. Although, back when we were kids, it was a best friends ring in its place. I was the one who gave it to her. B.F.F. Best Friends Forever. Another lie we told.
“My parents didn’t want my name to get out there in the papers. As you know, the press wasn’t kind back then … dragging everyone’s name involved through the mud.”
I couldn’t help it: I smiled. “Oh, I do know. And I remember your family very explicitly turning their noses up at mine.”
They were friends once—the Montgomerys and the Breyases—our parents playing cards and drinking beer on Friday nights, while Adrianna, Jack, and I played hide-n-seek upstairs. Having Adrianna as a friend was one of the sure things I had in my life, and I lost her and Mom just a few years apart…
“It wasn’t my fault my family did that. All this time, you act like I chose to end our friendship. But I didn’t. You were my best friend. It was my parents to blame, not me. I was hurting too.”
I nodded. She was absolutely right. “I’m sorry. I never really thought of it that way,” I said, meekly. “But you abandoned me at school too … that hurt a lot.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did it … I guess it hurt less to just let you go. My parents were so adamant about staying away from you and your family,” she said.
“I’m sorry, too. You were a kid then. You couldn’t help but be confused too. But … I’m still surprised you didn’t tell me about what you saw in the parking lot that day … and that no one knew it was you who saw Jenny getting in the truck with Chrissy.”
Adrianna’s eyes looked wary in the dark kitchen as she thought back to that day. “Mom had me in that after-school babysitting program. So stupid. I didn’t want to be treated like a baby anymore, but Mom didn’t think I was old enough to be alone at home yet after school while she was still at work. Now that I’m a parent myself, I agree with her choice completely. The primary school got out earlier than the middle school, you remember?”
“Yes,” I said. I’d stayed after school a couple times myself and I knew that the elementary school kids, especially those who were close to their primary graduation, liked to line up at the fence, looking out at the middle-schoolers as though they were demi-gods.
“You couldn’t miss her. With that white-blonde hair and those cool clothes … we all looked up to Jenny. She was gorgeous,” Adrianna said, her voice so soft and sad.
“She was,” I agreed.
“So, when I saw her talking to Chrissy Cornwall in the parking lot, I was shocked. Chrissy didn’t even have her driver’s license…”
“Did she really force Jenny into the truck?” I asked, tentatively.
Adrianna surprised me by shaking her head. “I never said that. The papers like to exaggerate. The cops too. As a journalist, I totally understand that now. But they were fighting … screaming, even … I didn’t lie to the police about that. I only wish I could have known what they were saying exactly.”
Chrissy claimed that she and Jenny were friends … that it was a planned ride-around after school. So, why were they arguing then? Or could Adrianna be mistaken about what she saw…?
“How did you know they were fighting?” I asked.
Adrianna frowned. “Well, Jenny looked mad. Her face was red, and she was shaking her head. Then I heard them screaming. But I couldn’t quite make out the words…”
“If they were fighting, why do you think Jenny got in the truck?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. She walked away from Chrissy, then Chrissy ran up and grabbed her by the arm. She was pulling. But it was less like forcing her in the truck, and more like begging. Does this really matter though?” Adrianna asked, breathless.
“What do you mean?”
“We know she did it, Natalie! She confessed. Why are you playing into this psycho’s hands? I’m afraid she’ll hurt you. You shouldn’t be alone with her…”
I could understand Adrianna’s concern, and maybe she was right. Maybe I was being naïve for trusting Chrissy … but I couldn’t help it. Somewhere in that short period of time we’d spent together, I’d caught a glimpse of the woman underneath—the one before the murder, before prison … the girl with the wild sense of humor and sad smile of youth.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I stopped writing and stared at the ceiling, the soft songs of rain dancing on the roof. I hadn’t written much, only 2,000 words, but it was a start. You have to start somewhere, honey.
My dad and brother didn’t get my love for writing, but Mom did. She used to encourage me to do it and asked if she could read my stories when I was done. She loved to read, and I always dreamed of the day when I could see her flipping pages on a book with my name on the cover. Maybe I’ll find out where she lives and mail her a copy when the book is done. Sign it: the daughter you abandoned.
I’d searched for her earlier, as I often did when I was bored. I couldn’t find her on Facebook, or on Twitter or Instagram either. I searched public court records … anything to indicate where she was.
