Tess Sharpe - Far From You

“You talked to my sister about her,” Trev says. “Mina Bishop?”

Her eyes widen. “You’re Mina’s brother?”

He nods.

“Look, I’m sorry about what happened to Mina,” she says.

“Thank you,” Trev replies, and there’s a mechanical feel to it. I wonder, suddenly, how many times he’s heard this from people. Apologies and awkward silences must be his reality now. I wonder if he’s as desperate to leave this town as I am, even as I know he’ll never desert his mom. Not now.

“But whatever this is about…” She looks over her shoulder. “My mom’s right over there. I’ve really got to go.”

“Mina did an interview with you, didn’t she?” I ask. “About your sister’s disappearance? She was doing a story about it.”

“No,” Amy says, but she’s not a good liar. Her cheeks burn red even before the lie’s off her lips.

“Amy, I have Mina’s notes,” I say. “She might not have recorded all of your interview, but I have the first minute of it. I know you two talked.”

Amy’s chin juts out, a mulish expression settling over her face. “We didn’t. I realized it was a mistake, so I left after I asked her to turn off the recorder.” She looks over her shoulder again, toward the cars that are pulling into the parking lot as her teammates pack up their gear and join their parents. “I have to go,” she says.

“We’re sorry for bothering you,” Trev says, and he smiles gently at her, that comforting, safe smile of his—and, like almost every other girl in the world, she responds to it.

“It’s okay,” she says. “But I have to go.”

“I know,” Trev says. “I just need to ask you one more thing, then I won’t bother you anymore. Did you tell anyone that Mina was doing interviews about Jackie?”

“No,” Amy says. “I didn’t tell anyone. Why does it even matter? It was just a stupid newspaper story.”

“I’m just trying to figure some stuff out,” Trev says.

“Well, I can’t help you with it.” Amy slings her bag back over her shoulder. “Bye.” She takes long, loping strides away from us.

She’s hiding something.

“Give me a minute,” I tell Trev. Then I go after her. “Amy!” I call. “Wait a second.”

“Seriously, this is, like, harassment,” she says, spinning around. “What do you want?”

“Was Jackie pregnant?”

I’m standing right in front of her, but I could be half a mile away and see the truth. She sucks in a breath, sharp and fast, her chest heaving with it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, once she manages to slow her breathing a bit.

“Bullshit,” I say. “She was pregnant, wasn’t she? And you knew.”

Amy looks over her shoulder like she’s scared the group of girls thirty feet away will hear us. Then she grabs my arm, squeezing tight enough to bruise. “Shut up.”

“Did you know all this time?” I ask, shaking off her grip. “Did you withhold it from the police? Why would you do that?”

Amy’s cheeks get red again. The color spreads down her neck, up her ears. “Seriously, shut up. Do you want someone to hear you?”

But I’m ruthless. I have to be.

“How did you find out she was pregnant? Did Jackie tell you?”

“I’m gonna start screaming in a second,” Amy threatens. “My mom’s right over there waiting for me.” She points at the group of grown-ups who are talking with Coach and some of the girls by the parking lot.

“No, you won’t,” I say. “If your mom comes over, she’ll hear what I’m saying, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want that. Because I’m pretty sure she has no idea about this, does she? Answer my question: how did you know your sister was pregnant?”

“God, I thought Mina was bad,” Amy spits out. She comes closer to me and lowers her voice. “What is with you people? Can’t you just leave us alone? Do you think I feel good about this? I was eleven when Jackie disappeared. I barely knew what a pregnancy test was, or what it looked like. I didn’t think it was important when I found it. By the time I realized what it meant, Jackie’d been missing for two years. My parents—they don’t need to wonder about a grandkid, okay? They already have enough unanswered questions.”

“Did you tell Mina Jackie was pregnant?”

“Why is that even…” Amy stops. Her mouth hardens; when she squares her shoulders, I see determination in her. “Look, Mina was nice, okay? I refused to talk to her for a long time, I was a total bitch to her, and she was still nice to me. She wore me down.” Amy digs the toe of her cleat into the grass, avoiding my eyes. “She promised she wouldn’t tell anyone. That it was off the record.”

“Mina kept your secret. She was good at that.”

“Are you going to keep it?” she asks, the tremble in her voice almost under control.

“No,” I say, because I won’t lie to her.

She glares at me. “Why not?” she demands.

“Because whoever took Jackie killed Mina,” I say. “She wasn’t just doing a newspaper story, Amy. She was trying to figure out who took her—trying to crack the case—and she died for it. Right in front of me. So I can’t keep quiet, okay? Because this…this isn’t a little thing. This is motive .”

Amy’s mouth drops open in surprise. She steps back from me, her cleats digging hard into the soil. “You mean…you think…Matt. You think Matt took her. That he killed her because of a baby?”

“I’m not sure yet,” I say. “But it’s a possibility.”

“And you’re gonna…what? Catch him? How the hell are you gonna do that? If what you’re saying is true, the police didn’t find enough on him to arrest him for my sister. He already shot someone in front of you, and the police didn’t catch him then, either. What are you gonna do that they couldn’t?”

“At least I’m aimed in the right direction,” I say. ­“Detective James bungled Mina’s murder case. He was in charge of ­Jackie’s case, too. Who knows what he overlooked back then? No one is looking in the right places. I can at least try.”

“If it’s Matt…” She stops, like she can’t even say it. Like the hope for answers is too much. “If it’s Matt,” she says again, stronger this time, “do you think he’d tell us? Do you think they could make him tell us where he put her? So we could bury her?” Her voice cracks on the last question, and I realize that she harbors none of the hope that Matt claimed to have. That there’s something worse than having a grave to visit.

“I’m going to try,” I say, because I hadn’t been lying to David that day in therapy. I want to be able to keep my promises.

There’s a prolonged honk coming from the parking lot, and Amy jerks, looking over her shoulder. The group of parents has scattered, and a woman with blond hair is leaning out of an SUV, waving at Amy. “That’s my mom,” she says. “I have to go.” She grabs her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. “You’re not just some crazy drug addict, right?” she asks. “Because even the freshmen hear stories about you.”

I let out a breath, half laugh, half shame. “I am a drug addict,” I say. “I’m in recovery. But I’m not crazy. Not about this. I promise.”

“Okay,” she says. “Just…be careful, then.”

“Thank you,” I say. “For telling me the truth.”

“Don’t make me regret it,” she says. She hurries away across the field before I can answer. I watch her for a moment before Trev comes up behind me.

“What was that about?” he asks.

“Jackie was pregnant,” I say. “Amy just confirmed it.”

“Seriously? Jackie? ” Trev looks shocked. “That means Matt—”

“Yeah,” I say. Trev frowns, not following me as I start toward the parking lot. I stop and turn back to him. “What?”