I wondered if anyone saw me last night during my walk of shame.
I looked over to my nightstand and saw a bottle of water, two Tylenol, and a banana. A handwritten note lay beside them.
"Feel better soon" with a smiley face. I could tell it was Jack's handwriting by the short, slanted scrawl.
I smelled the booze oozing out of my pores as I pulled myself out of bed. I stretched my arms over my head and yawned. My joints crackled; my muscles throbbed. But the worst pain? My ego.
Shaking away my shame, I stumbled into the bathroom. I ripped off my dress and jumped into the shower, not caring about the ice cold water. I reveled in the whole body shock caused by the frigid water coming out of the shower head. I needed a wake-up call and badly.
Lost in thought, I almost didn't hear the slight knock on the bathroom door as I rinsed the conditioner from my hair.
"Come in," I said as I peeked my head around the curtain.
My mom opened the door ever so slightly. "Morning, Elle.”
"Hi, Mom." I smiled weakly.
"Late night?”
"You could say so.”
A look of concern spread across her face. I didn't mean to worry her, but I guess it was too late now.
"Where's your car?”
I sighed and closed my eyes. "Back at the church. I got a ride home from a friend because I didn't want to drink and drive.”
"There's some breakfast on the stove," she said. "Jack and I will go get your car for you.”
"Thanks! I'll be out soon." Relief washed over me the same as the sudsy water.
My mom shut the door carefully behind her, and I was alone once more. As much as I tried to push last night's events out of my mind, I couldn't ignore what'd happened. I promised myself after leaving Keygate the first time that I'd leave a stronger woman. I wouldn't let anyone else hurt me. I'd keep the past in the past and move. I’d stuck to my guns, too. It was like I could be a completely different person in a completely different place.
In Ashford, I was a tough-as-nails police detective who didn't take shit from anyone. I protected my community, and I put my life on the line. But as soon as I went home? I felt as though a time machine turned its knobs and whistles, leaving me feeling like the same vulnerable teenage girl I was a decade ago.
I had to get out of here and fast. The more distance I put between myself and this place, the faster I would return to the mindset I'd built up for all these years. I would feel more like me again. Even trapped in a pit of grief in Ashford would be better.
Then, the painful thought of what happened yesterday exploded into my consciousness: someone murdered Callie Jacksun. Could I truly leave Keygate now? Could I simply run away and leave my city to fend for itself after the gruesome murder of one of its own? My chest rose and fell rapidly as I clutched my neck, trying to catch my breath. Tears streamed down my cheeks and mixed with the water from the shower. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. I was frozen in complete turmoil and chaos.
I needed a drink more than anything in the entire world.
I turned the water off and grabbed the towel hanging beside the shower. Wrapping it around me, I ignored the stray tear slithering down my cheek. I needed to pull it together and fast. How could I expect to move forward when I was stuck in the past?
I dressed quickly in a pair of faded jeans and an Ashford PD t-shirt. The last time I wore the top was when I ran in the police department 5k. I'd beaten almost all the male officers in my unit. The look on their smug faces when I greeted them at the finish line was more satisfying than achieving my personal best time.
I went downstairs to have some food, but first found a bottle of vodka in the back of the cabinet. I untwisted the cap and wiped the dust from the bottle on the back of my jeans. With closed eyes, I tipped the bottle back and allowed the clear liquid to dash down my throat to my belly. It was an instantaneous effect; the demons inside of me were temporarily satisfied. I could think clearly for the moment, the pain of death and deceit hushed for now.
In the next moment, two cars pulled into the driveway. I fumbled to put the cap back on the bottle and shove it into the cabinet. I grabbed a plate and heaved food from the stove onto the porcelain surface.
My mom and Jack entered the kitchen. Jack tossed me my car keys, which I caught with one hand. They sat down at the table to keep me company while I devoured the fluffy eggs, crisp bacon and ham, and a few pieces of toast.
We ate in silence. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught my mom staring curiously at me, then her eyes lingering on the drink before me. My cheeks flushed with the familiar feeling of shame. Did she know I’d been drinking already?
It’s none of her business, anyway. It’s just one drink. I’m an adult. I deserve a drink after what I’ve been dealing with.
“Are you heading home today?” my mom asked. “Of course, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want! Just not sure if you’d want to get back home.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. Like a wave from a hurricane, regret washed over me, nearly drowning me in its wake. The past few months, I scoured the streets in Ashford trying to find something or someone that would help me find Zac’s killer, but to no avail. No one knew anything. No one saw anything. I had no leads. Nothing to work from. I felt like a failure. How could I not solve my own fiancé’s murder? Maybe I was a shitty detective, after all.
But, if I couldn’t solve Zac’s for the time being, could I try to solve Callie’s case?
“I think I’m going to stay for a while, if that’s okay with you.”
Ten
I sat cross-legged on my bed while my MacBook Pro booted up. It whirled and buzzed as the decade-old machine glowed in front of me. I brought it with me to Keygate in case I had some downtime.
I scrolled through Facebook until I found who I was looking for: Callie Jacksun. My heart stopped for a moment when I discovered her profile. I squinted at her pictures but didn't wholly recognize the young girl I babysat so many years ago.
In her photos, she sported silky waist-length black hair, the color most certainly from a box. Her teeth gleamed as white as snow, which contrasted against her ruby red lipstick. I guessed she wore colored contacts too. I remembered her having brown eyes, not the brilliant oceanic hue from her photographs.
I scanned through her tagged photos, starting from the most recent. I witnessed her transformation from innocent girl to vivacious woman right before my eyes. In one photo, Callie held a Bud Light in one hand and a shot of liquor in the other. She stood under a blue neon sign reading The Hen's Den.
A gasp erupted from my mouth. I couldn't stifle the surprise. The Hens' Den, a seedy local bar, was located on the outskirts of town. Besides its apt name, it was mostly known for its employees, who happened to be half-naked women dancing on stage for tips.
Did Callie work at the Hens' Den? Or frequent the bar? I couldn't believe it. I recalled the times we walked to the playground, and Callie detailed her dreams of growing up to be an astronaut or a dancer. What happens to a person when they decide to forsake a bright future in place of a darker one? How does a person stray so far from the path they once trekked? Callie was a smart little girl, a kind one too.
When I tried to imagine her life, I assumed she'd grow up to be something incredible. A teacher? She loved to tell me all about her favorite subjects in school. Callie'd recite her newest spelling words and teach me about the plants and animals she learned about in science class.