Sara Shepard - Two Truths and a Lie

“What else do you know?” she asked slowly. “What else did you see?” If Laurel had seen Sutton hiding, maybe she’d seen someone else there, too. Sutton’s true killer.

A coyote howl pealed over the rocks. Laurel glanced in its direction and sighed. “If you mean did I see the two of you making out, I didn’t. And I don’t know who hit him, either. He wouldn’t tell me anything that happened. Do you know who hit him? Are you making him keep quiet about something?”

“I don’t know anything,” Emma said. It was the truth.

Laurel’s silk dress billowed in the wind. She ran the palms of her hands over her bare arms. “All you’ve done for the past month is pester me about the night of August thirty-first, trying to get me to spill that I was with Thayer. Thinking I didn’t know you were there, too. That is why you asked me over and over what I was doing that night, isn’t it? Because you wanted to know if I saw you? Well, I did . I saw you, hiding in the bushes and abandoning Thayer when he needed you the most.” She scrunched up her face with disgust. “How could you have done that? And how could you have screamed when he came into your bedroom? Are you trying to ruin his life?”

“I’m sorry,” Emma blurted.

“Sorry’s not good enough,” Laurel snarled. “You need to stay away from him. He told me as much. Every time you’re around him, something terrible happens.”

“Wait, he told you that?” Emma asked, rewinding. “When did you talk to him?”

Laurel dropped her hands to her hips. “On the way to the hospital. I’m the one who cares about him, Sutton. I’m the one who took him to the hospital, where he was in surgery all night. And I’m the one who posted his bail, in case you haven’t figured that one out yet, while you were running around, hooking up with your new boyfriend.”

“You posted his bail? How? ”

Laurel crossed her arms over her chest. “If you must know, I’ve been saving. And with the bond Grandma gave me years ago and all the money people contributed to the Free Thayer campaign, it was enough. But why do you care? Thayer obviously doesn’t matter to you. So just leave him alone, okay?” With that, she spun around and marched back to the party.

Emma ran her hands along her face, replaying everything Laurel had said over and over in her mind. The tables had just turned again. So … Thayer hadn’t killed Sutton? He’d left Sutton alive, then Laurel had taken him to the hospital. But there were so many unanswered questions. It had to have been Sutton’s car that hit Thayer, but who had been driving? Was someone else with them that night, someone who didn’t want them to be together? Or had someone stolen Sutton’s car?

If only I knew who Thayer was protecting me from. Who we were running from. Who was sitting behind the wheel when the car rammed straight into him.

But I didn’t know a thing. All I saw after that moment when Laurel and Thayer sped away was darkness. And with that darkness came a horrible realization: Emma and I were back to square one.

On Saturday morning, Emma pulled into the parking lot of Trader Joe’s and eased Sutton’s Volvo into a prime spot in front of the store. After she turned off the ignition, she unfolded the shopping list Mrs. Mercer had given her that morning. It included things like tahini butter, kimchee juice, and unsweetened almond milk. “You know how particular Grandma is,” Sutton’s mother had warned as she went down the list, explaining each item. “Get this stuff exactly as I’ve described it, or I’ll have a very cranky motherin-law on my hands.” The whole family was preparing for Grandma Mercer’s arrival early next week for her son’s birthday party. Apparently, Grandma was a bit of a handful.

Emma watched customers emerge from the grocery store, smiling and clutching brown paper bags, and sighed. They all looked so happy and carefree. She was pretty certain she’d be the only Trader Joe’s patron who’d spent the previous evening crossing a murder suspect off her list.

As she got out of the car, warm Tucson air stuck to the back of her neck. She pulled her chestnut brown hair into a ponytail and checked her reflection in the car’s window. She was about to head toward the front doors when she noticed a familiar figure climbing out of a navy blue BMW across the lot. She felt her insides twist and heat rise to her cheeks.

Thayer.

He hadn’t seen her. Emma could turn and run in the other direction, but now that she knew he was innocent, she owed him an apology. Her legs felt unsteady as she crossed the parking lot toward the car. She forced herself forward until she stood a few feet from him. “Thayer?” Her voice came out shaky. Something about him still made her so nervous.

Thayer turned and squinted. His white T-shirt was wrinkled, and his army green cargo shorts hung low, like they were too big for him. His jaw tightened and he ran a hand through his hair. “Oh. Hey.”

“You’re out of jail,” Emma said, immediately feeling stupid.

“Is that a problem?” Thayer leaned on the BMW’s hood, examining Emma carefully. Almost like he knew she wasn’t the girl he fell in love with. But Emma was being paranoid. She knew now that Thayer had no idea about the twin switch. He wasn’t Sutton’s killer.

“Look, I’m sorry about the way things worked out,” she said softly. “With… you know. That night. The hospital.” She held Thayer’s gaze, wanting him to believe her, wanting him to know Sutton didn’t mean to hurt him.

I wanted Thayer to know it, too.

Thayer’s face softened slightly. He fidgeted with the strap of the black backpack slung over his shoulder. “Look, Sutton. I’m actually not supposed to be around you.”

“I know,” Emma said quickly, suddenly nervous. She lifted a hand to shade her eyes and shifted her weight in Sutton’s flip-flops. “Laurel told me. I ruin your life every time I’m near you.”

A confused look passed over Thayer’s features. “Uh, no. I can’t be around you because your dad said so. I got a call from him this morning.” His expression darkened at the mention of Mr. Mercer. “He said that if he caught me hanging around with you or Laurel, he’d figure out how to throw me back in jail.”

Emma frowned. “Why does he hate you so much?”

Thayer tilted his chin and gave Emma a weighted glance that made her feel like she’d asked a question Sutton would’ve known the answer to.

“I mean …” Emma went on, leaving a heavy pause between them, hoping Thayer would let her in on whatever he wasn’t saying. But he just looked at her meaningfully, his eyes small slits.

“I should go,” he mumbled finally, and turned toward the store. But a few paces away, he turned and looked back, running a tanned hand over the back of his neck. “Actually, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you.”

Emma swallowed hard. A few rows over, a car alarm went off. An old man shoved an empty shopping cart into the corral. She stared at Thayer and waited for his question. She hoped she knew the answer.

Thayer looked down at his beat-up Converse. “Why didn’t you respond to my notes?”

Emma scrambled to think. When he’d referenced his notes, she’d assumed he meant the note someone had stuck on Laurel’s car, warning Emma that Sutton was dead and she needed to play along. But now she realized he must have meant something else.

“I emailed you and emailed you,” Thayer continued. “But you never wrote back. Was it because of the accident? Because I broke my leg and wouldn’t be Mr. Athlete anymore?”