âA serpentine, suspenseful mystery that will keep readers guessing right to the final pages.â â KIRKUS REVIEWS
When the police discover Catheryn âCatâ Clark drunk and covered in blood, even she struggles to believe in her own innocence. After all, few people wanted Elaine Reid dead more than the woman whose husband she stole after thirty years of friendship.
But as the alcohol-induced fog begins to fade, strange questions surrounding the nightâs events start to emerge: Who else was at the house the night that Elaine was murdered? Why canât Cat remember anything that transpired in the darkened confines of her kitchen? And what might a neighborâs suicide from her college years have to do with proving Catâs innocence? As Cat fights to piece together the puzzle of what happened, Detective Rachel McGowenâs fifteen-year hunt for an elusive killer could hold all the answers.
Reasonable is the first in a planned, three-part series that explores themes of addiction, family dysfunction, and obsession from the perspectives of two seemingly unrelated women whose livelihoods depend on one another. A fast-paced thrill ride packed with suspense, this enthralling tale of two womenâs determination will keep you guessing until the very end.
âA serpentine, suspenseful mystery that will keep readers guessing right to the final pages.â â KIRKUS REVIEWS
When the police discover Catheryn âCatâ Clark drunk and covered in blood, even she struggles to believe in her own innocence. After all, few people wanted Elaine Reid dead more than the woman whose husband she stole after thirty years of friendship.
But as the alcohol-induced fog begins to fade, strange questions surrounding the nightâs events start to emerge: Who else was at the house the night that Elaine was murdered? Why canât Cat remember anything that transpired in the darkened confines of her kitchen? And what might a neighborâs suicide from her college years have to do with proving Catâs innocence? As Cat fights to piece together the puzzle of what happened, Detective Rachel McGowenâs fifteen-year hunt for an elusive killer could hold all the answers.
Reasonable is the first in a planned, three-part series that explores themes of addiction, family dysfunction, and obsession from the perspectives of two seemingly unrelated women whose livelihoods depend on one another. A fast-paced thrill ride packed with suspense, this enthralling tale of two womenâs determination will keep you guessing until the very end.
As the officers bagged my hands and clamped the handcuffs tight around my wrists, all I could think was, I would arrest me, too. Even though I knew deep down that I could not be guilty, part of me couldnât be sure. With a blood-soaked tee-shirt clinging to my torso, booze seeping out of every pore, and my right hand wrapped around a six-inch butcherâs blade, I was not exactly the picture of innocence. Still, I could not shake the nagging feeling that this happened by some terrible design.
Of course, it didnât help that the sight of Elaineâs body lying motionless on the ground gave me a sick yet deeply satisfying pleasure. No doubt the arresting officers could detect my total lack of remorse; the corners of my mouth gave an involuntary twitch each time I glanced her lifeless corpse. I couldnât tell if it was nervousness or excitement that caused the laughter to erupt.
âDo you understand your rights as I have read them to you?â the uniform to my left had to raise her voice over the sound of my uncontrollable cackling. A stunned silence fell over the two women as my fits grew louder and wilder. The giggling took over my body, weakening my knees until I could no longer stand upright.
âJust get her in the fucking car,â the officer to my right almost jerked my arm out of its socket as she yanked me upward and pushed me towards the front door. I stumbled between my escorts on our way to the squad car, all the while my body shaking with inexplicable glee.
Stop laughing, I begged to myself. But I couldnât. The truth was that even though I didnât know how or why it happened, I was happy that Elaine was dead. She deserved this, and if I was the one to end her life, maybe that wasnât such a horrible thing after all. The real shame was in getting caught.
I felt the officerâs hand push my head down as she forced me into the back of the car. Blue and red lights danced across the midnight pavement, revealing a crowd of haunted, awestruck neighborsâonly one of whom I recognized. The distinct silhouette of Elaineâs ex-husband stood out in the sea of shocked and sleep-deprived onlookers, his high cheek bones and upturned nose casting a garish shadow across his face with each flash of the police lights. My gaze lingered on his slouched, disheveled figure leaned against the side of his bright-red Jeep, which was parked just across from my driveway. What is he doing here? I wondered as the officers drove me away.
***
The Monroe County Sheriffâs Office reeked of old coffee and stale body odor, which naturally transported me back to high school gym class. In the hot, humid, cramped gymnasium, I could see Coach Reynolds taking greedy gulps from his spiked thermos, a fresh sheen of sweat beading up on his brow. Even in those distant memories, Elaine was inescapable.
Our locker room was so small, we were forced to share a space during our senior year. Back then, we didnât mind sharing anything, whether it was lip balm, secrets, or tiny metal closets in underfunded academia. There werenât many wealthy families to speak of in Williamsburgâmuch less those that chose to enroll their children in public schoolâso it was only natural that Elaine and I would gravitate towards one another. Though our families were well-intentioned in their decision to keep us out of private school, not wanting their financial fortune to create a sense of entitlement in their daughters, it was difficult for us to find common ground with our farm-working, football-loving, rifle-carrying contemporaries.
It wasnât that we disliked the other students or looked down on them for their upbringing; there were simply too many cultural barriers that kept us from becoming anything more than good acquaintances at best. But with Elaine, I didnât have to pretend to be anything that I wasnât. I didnât have to worry that there might be an ulterior motive to her friendship, as though she were just using me to get a taste of a life that she didnât have herself. When I was with her, I felt comfortable. We never fell short of excuses to spend more time together or make each other laugh. She and I would even play this game to see how many times we could catch Coach Reynolds adding a splash of whiskey to his thermos during one gym class. If I closed my eyes, I could almost see that devilish grin spread across her face after seeing him sneak another shot. She would toss her yellow hair over her shoulder, whipping her head in my direction each time as if to ask, Are you keeping count?
After taking some initial photos, my hands were allowed a momentary respite so I could remove my shirt and provide it to the crime scene unit for evidence. Beneath it, I could see my stomach was stained orange with my old locker mateâs blood. I changed into the Tyvek suit provided to me, painfully aware that I was not wearing a bra as my long, dark curls tickled the porcelain surface of my bare breasts. Bits of debris were scraped from under my fingernails and collected into a small plastic bag before the handcuffs were placed back around my wrists, and I was shuffled out the door and down the hall to medical clearance.
My eyes strained against the shock of the small examination roomâs stark, white interior (which, even in my inebriated state, I noted could have benefited from a proper cabinet refacing). The space couldnât have been more than ten feet wide with bright fluorescent bulbs burning overhead and a stretch of countertop protruding from the left-hand wall where a long needle and two vials sat unopened in their plastic wrapping. Every ounce of strength I had went towards trying to keep my head from falling over as the graying, middle-aged nurse began her assessment.
âWhoâve we got here?â she asked the pair of female officers still flanking me on either side.
âSuspectâs name is Catheryn Clark,â the petite, brunette to my right answered as I struggled to keep my balance atop the scale while the nurse took down my height and weight. When she was finished recording her findings, she motioned for me to take a seat in the hard, metal chair beside the countertop. I slumped into the uncomfortable piece of furniture and did my best to focus on her finger as she moved it from side to side across my face, but I couldnât decide which of the three index fingers I saw was the right one to follow. She shook her head, disappointed with my performance as she began to unwrap the needle and wipe at my elbow crease before drawing two vials of blood from my arm.
âThis oneâs gonna need to sleep it off solo tonight,â she commented to the officers as the vials slowly filled. âSheâs far too intoxicated.â
Once my bloodwork was finished and the nurse was satisfied with her evaluation, the officers transported me to my private quarters: A four by four concrete hole complete with a single twin-sized cot bolted to the wall and a filthy-looking toilet that appeared as though it hadnât been cleaned in quite some time. The room was a nightmare of monochromatic colors that bled together in funhouse mirror fashion, making me dizzy and nauseous in a way the alcohol hadnât.
âI think Iâm gonna be sick,â a steady stream of saliva was gathering in my mouthâa prequel to the bile burgeoning at the back of my throat.
âToiletâs right there,â the larger of the two female officers spoke in a deep baritone and pointed a hulking finger in the direction of the toilet before turning on her heel and slamming the cell bars shut behind her. Moments later, the contents of my stomach spilled into the bowl, adding a pop of vibrant orange to the monotone surroundings.
***
âItâs called vermillion,â Tim informed me, jutting out his neck so I could get a better look at the ugly bowtie decorating his jugular.
âI donât care what the fuck itâs called, itâs hideous,â I chided, âAnd it doesnât match anyway!â
It was the start of our senior year, and we were getting ready for the annual Green Valley University homecoming crawl on Greek Row where Tim was a member at Sigma Nu. I was wearing an emerald green and gold mini dress in true school spirit while Tim donned his bizarre peach plaid button up and vermillion necktie combo. Despite his good looks and modest popularity, he lacked the kind of fashion sensibility and social awareness that most of the other brothers at his fraternity seemed to possess.
âHonestly, you look like you escaped an insane asylum,â I tousled the strands of his honey blonde hair and kissed him on the mouth to soften the blow before pushing him out of the bathroom so he could find something more suitable to wear. âJust put on that green dress shirt you have with the shiny gold tie! You know, the one you wore toââ
I couldnât bring myself to complete the thought. None of us wanted to think about the last time. Not after everything had finally started to feel normal again. I stared into the bathroom mirror and watched as Timâs chiseled body occupied the doorframe once more. A long pause lingered between us before I was brave enough to face him and ask the question that I was sure was on both of our minds.
âDo you think everyone still thinks we had something to do with it?â I thought of the hushed whispers and sideways glances we all suffered through during the final days of the previous semester. Though Elaineâs boyfriend suffered the brunt of everyoneâs suspicion, the weight of accusation hung over each of us like a heavy raincoat too drenched with storm to peel from our bodies.
âI think we shouldnât concern ourselves with what other people think,â Tim wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close, kissing the top of my head. The warmth from his lips sent goosebumps down my scalp and neck, erasing the images of judgmental college students as it passed through my body. I sighed.
âYouâre right,â I decided.
âLetâs just⌠try to have fun tonight, okay?â he held me at armâs length and smiled before moving in for a second kiss, this time sealing his lips against mine.
âOkay, okay,â I relented. âBut get fucking changed first. Iâm serious.â
Tim rolled a pair of icy, gray eyes and smirked before closing the bathroom door. I tried to refocus my attention on the party at hand rather than the events that had made the final week of the previous semester so unbearable, but I couldnât stop replaying the memory of what happened over and over again in my mind.
Six months prior to the incident the semester before, we decided to get an off-campus apartment with Elaine and her boyfriend, Evan. It was a two-story, Victorian-style, brick duplex with one unit available on each floor. Ours was the more spacious of the two-bedroom apartments located on the top story, featuring a set of beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the Greene Street Bridge and saturated the open, airy living room with a flood of natural light.
While the building itself was more than seventy years old, our apartment had been renovated to include all the modern amenities to which my upper-class upbringing had grown accustomed. From the rich, burgundy hardwood floors to the wide-open floor plan to the stainless-steel kitchen appliancesâthe apartment was a far cry from the prison-style dorm rooms that Elaine and I had endured for the first two years of our college career. Though it was only a two-story building, we could still gaze upon the Tar River snaking gracefully through campus which was easily visible from the worn, leather armchair in our living room. But while the breathtaking vista once captured our hearts, it was now marred by a tragedy so consuming, none of us could bring ourselves to peer beyond its glassy surface into the depths below.
Mia Davis was a straight-A student. She had an academic scholarship in excellent standing. Her athletic prowess had earned her a series of championship medals that likely still decorate the halls of Green Valley University fifteen years later. By the end of her freshman year, Mia was the first underclassman to become student body president. She had a way of making everyone feel like she genuinely loved them, and so, everyone genuinely loved her back. Given all this information, it made sense that following her unexpected suicide, people wanted answers to one simple question.
Why?
Why did someone who, by all accounts, had everything going for her choose to take her own life? She wasnât under financial or academic duress as evidenced by her scholarship. She wasnât socially inept, which was clear from both her athletic pursuits as well as her participation in student government. She wasnât what one would call a textbook definition of depression at all. Perhaps thatâs what made it so easy for others to look elsewhere for explanations. When someone like Mia commits suicide, it can be easier to entertain the possibility that she was murdered than to admit to having missed her cries for help. It becomes even easier to believe that Mia could have been murdered when four college students just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time during the exact moment that she fell from the Greene Street Bridge.
We werenât supposed to leave the apartment at all that night. It was Evanâs birthday, which meant catering to his unique brand of introversion: drinking heavily, playing card games, and not engaging with anyone who might be considered âthe general public.â Personally, I never thought that Evan and Elaine made sense as a couple. Elaineâs bombastic, bubbly personality stood in such stark contrast to Evanâs withdrawn, at times cold demeanor.
It wasnât just their personalities that clashed. Even their outward appearances seemed at odds with one another. Though he wasnât the textbook definition of good looks, Evanâs angular facial features, striking blue eyes, and thick mane of dark, messy hair gave him an almost exotic appearance that made him undeniably handsome. Still, he was not the type of person who I envisioned standing beside the thin, tanned blonde with the button nose who I called my best friend. I knew that opposites were supposed to attract, but I never imagined that Elaine would fall so head-over-heels for someone who seemed to contradict every aspect of her being.
On that particular night, the coupleâs dichotomy was on full display. As roommates, Tim and I were no strangers to the constant bickering that erupted between the two of them. Though they argued more often than notâmostly due to Evanâs unpredictable, angry outburstsâtheir fights rarely ever ventured beyond the front door of our apartment. But while they werenât prone to putting a spotlight on their spats, that night was different. Earlier that day as we were walking to the library together, Elaine confided to me that our plans to lay low for Evanâs birthday celebration were about to take a drastic change.
âHe doesnât know it yet, but I planned a small surprise party at the Sig Nu house,â she was beaming as she told me, but even I knew this was a terrible idea. Evan was in every way the brooding art student. While he was happy enough tag along with us on our frat-party-filled weekend adventures, he didnât make it a point to fit in with the crowd there. It was surprising to me that the fraternity brothers agreed to the idea in the first place considering the fact that Evan was so vocal about his dislike for them.
Then again, Elaine always had a way of getting exactly what she wanted, and rooming with one of the Sig Nu brothers made it easy for her to concoct the perfect plan. Even if Tim hadnât been a member, I doubted that Elaine would have had any trouble convincing the other brothers to give her the keys to their house for whatever she wanted. It was obvious to anyone who had been to the frat house that the entire chapter was infatuated with the blonde-haired, blue-eyed party girl, much to the chagrin of her surly boyfriend. One brother in particular by the name of Pete had made it a personal mission of his to torment Evan with the open objectification of his girlfriend whenever we happened to make a group appearance.
âAre you sure heâll be okay with this? This is Evan weâre talking about here,â I reminded her. She rolled her eyes as if to say, I think I know my man better than you. âAre you at least going to give him a heads up before we just show up for this thing?â
âWell, that would kind of ruin the surprise part, now, wouldnât it?â she grabbed my shoulder and stopped us both in our tracks. âLook around you, Catâwho do you see?â
I looked over my shoulder at the bridge we had just crossed, then craned my neck back around squinting forward into the maze of downtown shops and modest skyscrapers that bordered the college campus.
âNo oneâŚ?â I guessed.
âExactly!â she looped her arm around mine and we continued our journey to the library where I was due for my next shift. âItâs almost finals week. No one is here, so itâs not like itâs gonna be a rager or anything. Itâs just a small get together with some of the guys that Evan actually likes.â
I shot her a dubious look. In my experience, Evanâs remarks on the Sig Nu brothers ranged from thinly veiled hatred at best, outright disgust at worst. Not even living with Tim had softened his position on the fraternity.
âI donât know, Elaine, I think we should just stick to the original plan,â I said, though I knew in my heart that there was no reasoning with her at this stage. Blind stubbornness had brought her to the point of no return.
âWell, itâs too late because itâs all planned and Iâm not canceling everything now,â she said with childlike defiance. âBesides, Tim thinks itâs a great idea.â
âHe does?â I struggled to hide the incredulity from my voice. Tim and Evan were civil with one another out of respect for me and Elaine, but it was clear that the two shared nothing in common. They were as different from one another as Elaine and I had been from our high school peers. Though Evan refrained from showing Tim the same level of animosity that he reserved for the other frat brothers, I wouldnât have called the two friends. The idea that Tim could offer any helpful input when it came to planning Evanâs birthday party was something I found altogether unbelievable. âI think he just didnât want to hurt your feelings for having such a dumb idea.â
âOh what-ever,â Elaine folded her arms and pouted, looking every bit like an adult toddler as she did so. âI knew youâd try to talk me out of this. Youâre always so⌠negative. Thatâs why I didnât tell you until now. Plus, youâre awful at keeping secrets. Timâs known about this for a long time; heâs even helping me get Evan a little liquored up before we go tonight so heâs more in the partying mood.â
âYou really think thatâs a good idea? After the last time?â I thought back to the Valentineâs Day party that had happened just a few months prior. That time, Evan had known about the plan to head to the Sig Nu house all along and had decided for himself to get drunk before the night even started. Of course, the whole thing was a disaster anyway and ended in one of the worst fights in the coupleâs history no thanks to Peteâs persistent flirtation.
âItâs not gonna be like that, okay? God, why canât you just be fun about this? Tim and I have been going to the Sig Nu house for weeks planning this thing with the guys.â
âWow, didnât realize you two were so close,â I said coolly. The idea of Tim and Elaine swapping secrets and planning parties together sent an unexpected wave of jealousy spiraling in my gut.
âCâmon, you know itâs not like that,â she pled, sensing the origins of my annoyance. âHeâs helping me do something nice for my boyfriend? You know I would never steal your man away from you. I mean, you won him fair and square, remember?â
I smirked, recalling the moment that Elaine and I had spotted the attractive, quiet blonde by the bar at the frat house during our sophomore year. It was a blacklight party and was one of the first times that we had been to the Sig Nu house, yet despite the thrill that came with all the loud music and alcohol, I was starting to lose interest in being there. I had just been dumped for the fourth time since starting at GVU and despite the fact that she was supposed to be helping me find a suitable rebound, Elaine seemed more interested in scooping up the attention of whatever brother she happened to stumble upon. When I saw Tim standing by the line of partygoers at the bar, the pink pinstripes of his mauve button-down glowing with brilliant phosphorescence beneath the blacklight, I knew that I needed to act fast before I lost my chance.
âDibs!â Elaine and I had shouted together, our eyes locked on the shared target across the room. We turned to each other at once like two lions about to pounce on the same carcass.
âYou know the drill,â Elaine said, resting her right fist in her left palm.
âOh, câmon, Laney,â I groaned. âYouâve been fighting âem off all night. Youâre supposed to be helping me out here!â
âI donât make the rules of dibs, I just enforce them,â she announced. âCâmon. Rock, papers, scissors to settle the tie.â
I rolled my eyes and let out a frustrated huff before relenting, certain that a childâs game would quash any hope that I had at garnering the handsome strangerâs attention. To my unexpected delight, I won the first throw after slicing through Elaineâs paper with my sheers. The elation was short-lived, however, when she demolished those same scissors with her rocky fist in the next round. With one move left to determine the victor, I had already prepared myself for a crippling loss until Elaineâs fist came down once more, sinking like a stone beneath the weight of my open palm.
âYes!â I shouted. âPaper for the win!â
âFine,â Elaine soured, folding her arms across her chest as she darted jealous eyes around the room. It wasnât long before she spotted the next object of her affection.
âHave fun with Prince Charming,â she shrugged. âIâm gonna go see if I canât pluck that moody little wallflower off the plaster.â
She sauntered over to the place where her future boyfriend stood slouched against the wall, hands jammed in his pockets with a look of pure contempt radiating from his electric eyes.
âI donât make the rules of dibs, I just enforce them,â I teased Elaine as we crossed the street, allowing her words from our sophomore year to haunt her.
âHa, ha,â she stuck her tongue out at me as we walked deeper into downtown to get to campus. The two of us continued to the library where Elaine busied herself with exam preparation while I manned the reference desk for the remainder of the afternoon. It was almost eight oâ clock by the time we returned home after my shift ended. Tim was outside the door to the apartment before Elaine even had the chance to retrieve the key from her purse.
âI saw you guys cross the bridge from the window,â he explained in a rush. âLook, we might have a problemââ
Just then, the sound of shattered glass echoed from beyond the front door. The three of us filed into the apartment to find Evan clumsily picking himself up off the floor. Beside him, a potted plant lay on its side. The ceramic that had once enveloped its soil was now in a fractured mosaic scattered across the hardwood.
âI think I might have gotten him too drunk,â Timâs confession was unnecessary. Even if we hadnât arrived at the precise instant that Evan crashed into my snake plant, the bottle of Jack Daniels that sat three-quarters empty on the counter was all the supporting evidence we needed.
âJesus Christ, Tim, were you trying to kill him?â Elaine rushed to her boyfriendâs side, helping him to the dining room table.
âIâm fine, Iâm fine,â Evan shrugged her off, rocking backward as he stumbled into his seat. Despite his protestations to the contrary, he was very clearly belligerent, resembling an under-stuffed scarecrow as he slumped to his side in the dining chair. Elaine shot daggers at Tim from across the room as she attempted to straighten out her drunken boyfriend.
âWhy donât we all have a coffee before we go?â I suggested, attempting to break the tension. Though she was small in stature, I knew first-hand how intimidating it was to suffer Elaineâs wrath when something didnât go her way. I couldnât let my boyfriend become the subject of her fury. It was bad enough to get through for someone whose emotional well-being wasnât dangling by a thread; the thought of what her ire might do to Timâs already fragile state of mind frightened me.
âGo? Where we gonna go?â Evan slurred at his girlfriend from the table. With all of my focus on protecting Tim from her unbridled rage, I had forgotten the importance of maintaining the mystery behind Elaineâs covert plans. I searched her face for a cover story, embarrassed that I was about to let the surprise slip during my first interaction with Evan since learning about the party. Maybe she was right: I couldnât keep a secret; at least not one that involved undisclosed birthday celebrations.
âWell, weâre obviously going to need more Jack if weâre gonna keep this party going,â Tim interjected with the perfect excuse, winking over at Elaine before heading into the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee. I followed behind him to grab the cream, sugar, and spoons for the table.
âThanks for saving my ass,â I whispered, but my gratitude seemed to fall on deaf ears. Timâs focus shifted back and forth between fixing the coffee and checking his watch. He seemed rigid, back muscles flexing intensely beneath his dress shirt with every movement he made. Watching his body harden with stress made me angry with Elaine for involving him in her scheme. Granted, I hadnât told her about any of the things that Tim and I had discussed during the months leading up to Evanâs birthday.
Despite what Elaine believed, it turned out that I was capable of keeping some things confidentialâespecially when it meant protecting someone I loved. But as I watched Tim move around the kitchen with robotic reticence, I wished that I had confided in my friend about all that he was going through. If I had, maybe she wouldnât have put so much needless pressure on him. I slipped my arms around his waist and pressed my body up against his, running my hands the length of his torso.
âRemember what we talked about. Donât let her stress you out,â I murmured into his neck, kissing the place where my whispers caressed his skin. He placed his hands on top of mine and gave them a gentle squeeze.
âItâs no trouble,â he assured me. âBut we do have to hurry up if weâre going to make it there in time.â
The red light on the electric percolator signaled the end of its cycle and the beverages were ready to be served. We returned to the dining room only to discover that Elaine and Evan had moved to the nearby sofa. I couldnât tell whether it was the sight of Evanâs hands traveling up his girlfriendâs pink, pleated skirt or the loud smacking of saliva that caused my skin to crawl with discomfort. Tim set the coffee on the table with a loud thud and cleared his throat.
âSorry!â Elaine abruptly untangled herself from her boyfriend, smoothing the wrinkles from her skirt as she stood to face us. âWas trying to keep this idiot from falling asleep on us.â
âThatâs one way to do it,â I commented, handing her two mugs. She fixed one for herself and the other for Evan, and the four of us sipped in observational silence, hoping the birthday boy would soon snap into sobriety. It wasnât long before we finished, but we lingered in the apartment for another twenty minutes or so just to be sure that Evan was indeed on the path to modest recovery.
âAlright, itâs now or never,â Tim pointed to his watch, reminding us that there was a schedule to be upheld.
âWhatâs happening?â Evan asked as Elaine handed him a light jacket.
âWe need more Jack, remember?â she reminded him.
âI love you,â he responded, his tongue still thick with inebriation. Elaine laughed and returned his affection before we exited the apartment together and began walking towards the Sigma Nu house.
At first, Evan didnât notice that the group had missed the turn to get to the liquor store. But the evening air was unseasonably brisk for mid-May, which only helped sharpen his senses. We were half a block from 5th Street when he finally had the cognizance to ask, âArenât we goinâ the wrong way?â
âNo, this is the way to Sig Nu,â Tim answered without thinking. Elaine and I stopped in our tracks as we realized the surprise had been ruined. I was shocked that after keeping his composure for so long, Tim let the secret slip at the last possible second. He seemed to realize the gravity of his mistake at once, mouthing a wordless apology to Elaine. Her face was devoid of forgiveness, glowering back at him under the cover of darkness as Evan rounded on her.
âSig, what? Oh noâno, no, no,â Evan turned to his girlfriend with a look of horror on his face. âWhat the fuck is he talkinâ about?â
âSurpriseâŚâ Elaineâs feeble response came quiet and cautious through the late spring evening as Evan threw his hands in the air and let them collapse dramatically at his sides.
âWhat the fuck, Elaine?â he demanded. âSeriously, what the fuck were you thinkinâ?â
âI thought you would like it!â she protested, turning to her co-conspirator for support. Tim and I became suddenly too absorbed with counting the cracks in the sidewalk beneath our feet to be bothered with the argument erupting around us.
âNooo, you thought that you would like it! Jesus fucking Christ, you know I hate those guys,â Evan rebuked. With each exchange, his rage seemed to subdue his slurred speech.
âWell, they donât hate you!â the crack in Elaineâs voice told me that she was close to unleashing a flood of tears. Her boyfriend barked a bitter laugh in response, his face twisted with unmasked fury.
âYeah, Iâm sure thatâs it,â there was a sarcastic edge to his words that told me to brace myself for what was coming next. âItâs definitely not the fact that Pete wants to fuck you. Maybe if you didnât act like such a slut at these things, he wouldnât be constantly trying to get into your pants while I watch.â
With that, a mournful sob escaped Elaineâs lips, her bare knees trembling like two dead leaves as they buckled beneath a wave of sorrow. Somewhere inside, a voice urged me to comfort my friend, but my legs remained leaden and heavy on the sidewalk. I was a toddler again, too frozen with fear to interrupt the sound of her parentsâ screaming matches echoing from the next room.
âHere we go, everybody! Hope yâall got your tickets to the goddamn Elaine Show! Pete sure has,â Evan mocked his crying girlfriend, calling out to an audience that only he could see.
âFuck you, Evan!â she shouted through the river streaming down her cheeks. I lifted my gaze just in time to see a wild-eyed Evan lunge towards Elaine, hands outstretched like he wanted to wring her neck. A scream left my body and Tim swiftly intervened, forcing Evanâs arms behind his back with one graceful movement. Evan flailed under Timâs control, only managing to pull himself free after minutes of relentless twisting.
âGet off me!â he roared when he was finally able to release himself from Timâs grip. Elaine, Tim, and I huddled together, watching Evan with uncertainty from a safe distance as we anticipated his next move. âFuck this, Iâm gettinâ the Jack and goinâ home. Have fun with your boyfriend.â
He stormed off into the night, footsteps pounding at the pavement with loud, heavy thuds one after the other. Elaine turned and crumpled in my arms like a broken doll, and I stroked her hair as she sobbed into my shoulder. Hot tears and mascara soaked into my shirt as her body rattled with sadness, leaving a Rorschach of her misery imprinted in the fabric.
âHeâs just drunk, Laney, donât listen to him,â I assured her. She wailed an unintelligible response, too inconsolable to articulate in her current state. Elaineâs cries continued to fill the air for several moments before Tim got the hint that this now had become a girls-only outing.
âIâll go see if I can talk some sense into him,â he said sheepishly before jogging off to catch up with Evan who, by that point, had vanished into the darkness. I wrapped one arm around Elaineâs shoulder, and we continued walking in the opposite direction. We couldnât have been out for more than two hours before returning to the apartment. But that was all the time it took for Mia to fall from the bridge.
This gripping drama hooked me right from the start when the narrator finds herself arrested for her former best friend Elaine's murder. Initially centered around two couples, the unfolding events reveal a rich tapestry of layers and characters much more extensive than first supposed.
While completely captivated by the narrative, I was put out upon discovering that this is just the first installment in the "What Happened to Mia Davis?" series. While I understand the author's reasoning for turning a standalone into a series, I couldn't shake the disappointment of not learning about Mia's fate nor seeing Elaine's murderer brought to justice at the end of the book. I guess I'll have to wait for the sequel to come out.
Setting that aside, the story is told through the eyes of Catheryn, the woman accused of Elaine's murder, and Rachel, a police officer and Mia's best friend. The initial shift from Catheryn's perspective to Rachel's caught me off guard, but once I adjusted, I found Rachel's side of the story equally compelling.
The characters were not only relatable but also well-crafted, and the mystery's twists and turns were subtle, with misdirection playing a crucial role. Overall, despite my reservations about the series format, the book held my attention throughout, and I stayed up way past my bedtime to read just a little more.Â
I especially enjoyed the meticulous attention to detail, ranging from the portrayal of the interrogating police officer to the occasionally irrational yet entirely comprehensible reasoning processes of both Rachel and Catheryn.
Pinpointing my favorite part of the book without giving away spoilers is a challenge, but let me just say that the dual narrative perspectives masterfully guide readers through the mystery, unraveling the clues one by one. If you're a fan of compelling crime dramas, this book is an absolute must-read!