Between by Jessica Warman

been a lot of talk around town that maybe Liz’s dad and Josie’s mom had a … a thing , before Liz’s mom died. They were high school sweethearts. And some people—my parents, for one—think Josie looks a lot like Mr. Valchar.” Richie shakes his head, obviously uncomfortable with the topic. “I don’t know if it’s true or not. But it doesn’t matter. It’s totally irrelevant. And we might have been kissing a little bit, but you’ve gotta understand, it’s not like what you’re thinking.”
    “Then what is it like? And you can cut the attitude, by the way. I could arrest you for possession right now, you know.”
    Richie spreads his hands in a careless gesture. “Do it. I don’t care. I don’t have anything to lose.” I’m surprised he’s telling Joe so much about my family history. Maybe he just wants to talk about me.
    “I’m sure you don’t. Where are your parents right now? I saw them at the funeral earlier.”
    He nods. “Yeah, they managed to make an appearance.”
    “But they aren’t home now?”
    “They’re busy people.” He snorts. “They’re very dedicated to their art.”
    “I see.” Joe takes a moment to look around the room. His gaze falls to all the pictures of me and Richie on his desk. “Look,” he says, “the case is technically closed. But I’ve got some free time—you know, we local cops always have time on our hands—and I’m gonna ask some questions about this one. The story you kids told me adds up, okay, but it’s all so … so circumstantial . There isn’t a lot of hard evidence. I want to find something that makes me certain of what happened. Besides, Liz is the second kid in twelve months to get killed in Noank.”
    Richie sits down on his bed. “Who was the first?”
    “He doesn’t even remember me,” Alex says. He seems genuinely bothered by the fact.
    “Why do you care?” I ask.
    He thinks about it for a moment. Then he says, “I don’t know. I just do.”
    “Alex Berg,” Joe says. “Come on, you aren’t that high. He was the same age as you. Hit-and-run last August by the Mystic Market.”
    “Oh, right.” Richie nods in slow recognition. “Sure, I remember. I’ve seen flyers up in town.” He appears to be thinking. “Liz and Caroline went to his funeral. I wouldn’t go with them. Funerals creep me out, you know? Anyway, what does that matter? It had nothing to do with any of us.”
    “It matters,” Joe says, “because people are worried. First there’s a hit-and-run. Now this. Two healthy kids dying in less than a year. It’s a small town. Parents are concerned.”
    “It was an accident,” Richie says. “Nobody killed Liz.”
    Joe nods in agreement. “Probably not. I hope not. But you see, Richard—”
    “Richie,” he corrects.
    “You see,” Joe continues, “here you are, stoned, screwing around with your dead girlfriend’s stepsister, or half sister, or whatever she is. On the same day as Liz’s funeral. And I don’t know how to explain that, from a moral perspective. It seems pretty insensitive, wouldn’t you agree?”
    Richie stares at the shiny hardwood floor of his bedroom. “Why can’t you just arrest me for possession?”
    “Why would I want to do that?”
    “Because I’m a loser.”
    “Liz didn’t think so.”
    Richie looks up. “Yes, she did.” He swallows. All of his characteristic confidence is gone; I barely recognize him. “She was cheating on me.” There are tears in his dark, bloodshot eyes. “It had been going on for months, and I never even realized. Not until Josie told me.”
    “Ohhh.” Alex shakes his head at me. “You bad girl.”
    My mouth falls open. “He’s wrong,” I say. “I don’t know what he’s talking about.”
    “You were cheating on him,” Alex explains. “Listen.”
    So I do.
    “It was right after Christmas,” Richie says. “I’d been noticing for a while that Liz was disappearing, sometimes for long periods of time. She seemed different. I was worried.