You got the grades, the friends. You even got the guy. Then. But now I have him.” She pressed her fist to her chest. “Me. Bitsy Cavenaugh, the ugly duckling.”
Kat looked at her, momentarily startled silent. Then she shook her head. “The ugly duckling? I never thought of you that way.”
“Sure, you didn’t. Poor, awkward, uncool Bitsy. That’s why you stopped hanging out with me when we got to high school.”
She hadn’t had any idea Bitsy felt that way. And she couldn’t be more wrong. “You stopped hanging out with me! Because I went off the rails. Started hanging out with a wild crowd and—”
“He didn’t do it,” she said. “He didn’t kill Sara.”
“You’re so certain?”
“I know him, Kat.”
“You didn’t back then.” Kat held her gaze. “He was everything you warned me he was.”
“Don’t make trouble for him.”
“I’m not here to make trouble. For him or anyone else. Unless they’re a murderer. I just want the truth, Bits.”
The truth. What Bitsy had said a moment ago, about Kat having gotten the guy back then, suddenly registered. “What did you mean, I got the guy back then? You knew I was seeing Ryan?”
“How could I? He told me about the two of you. After we got together.”
He may have, but she had known long before that. This kind of anger and bitterness didn’t spring up from a fresh cut.
This was an old wound.
“You had a crush on him, didn’t you?”
“Stop it. He was cute. The cutest. That’s all I meant.”
“You’re the one who told Sara about us.”
“That’s stupid.”
“Were you following us? How’d you do it?”
“Again, you’re being ridiculous. Sara told me . I ran into her. She was upset. At the end of her rope, actually. She told me she was thinking of sending you away to school.”
Yes, Sara had been thinking about boarding school, but she wouldn’t have shared that with a teenager. Which meant Bitsy was lying. But why? What difference would it make now?
The truth hit her hard. It would make a difference only if Bitsy had something to hide. Or someone to protect.
Bitsy believed Ryan had killed Sara. Or worried that he might have.
And yet she still defended him. Still planned to marry him. It was sickening to Kat, who pushed away her untouched salad. “I seem to have lost my appetite. I’ll let you buy, Bits.”
Kat collected her purse and stood. Bitsy caught her hand in a viselike grip, stopping her. “Leave him alone, Kat.”
“Sorry, that’s not up to me.”
“We know a lot of people … we have a lot of friends. Ones who will look out for us. They can make your life very difficult.”
Kat narrowed her eyes at the threat. She freed her hand. “Do you like letter-writing, Bitsy?”
“Excuse me?”
“You get your jollies from it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m not going anywhere, old friend. Tell your husband-to-be he has nothing to worry about.” She paused. “Unless he killed my sister.”
Ryan Benton
2003
Two nights before the murder
The interior of the Mustang was hot, the air humid. Kat’s hair stuck to the back of her damp neck. She struggled to shimmy into her jeans while Ryan fired up a joint. The acrid scent stung her nose.
She looked at him. He lay back in his seat, shirtless, eyes hooded as he watched her. He was so handsome. She couldn’t believe he was with her.
“Can I test positive from just breathing in the smoke?” she asked.
“No way, babe. You’re good.”
“Are you sure, because I feel sort of high?”
“Go with it.”
She giggled. “’Kay.”
She got her shirt buttoned and scooted across the backseat to snuggle up to him. “I hate her. She doesn’t understand anything.”
“You’re here. Don’t worry about it.”
“Only because she had a fight with her stupid boyfriend. I wouldn’t have been able to sneak out otherwise.” She puckered her lips, recalling their raised voices, the roar of his truck driving off and the sound
Kat looked at her, momentarily startled silent. Then she shook her head. “The ugly duckling? I never thought of you that way.”
“Sure, you didn’t. Poor, awkward, uncool Bitsy. That’s why you stopped hanging out with me when we got to high school.”
She hadn’t had any idea Bitsy felt that way. And she couldn’t be more wrong. “You stopped hanging out with me! Because I went off the rails. Started hanging out with a wild crowd and—”
“He didn’t do it,” she said. “He didn’t kill Sara.”
“You’re so certain?”
“I know him, Kat.”
“You didn’t back then.” Kat held her gaze. “He was everything you warned me he was.”
“Don’t make trouble for him.”
“I’m not here to make trouble. For him or anyone else. Unless they’re a murderer. I just want the truth, Bits.”
The truth. What Bitsy had said a moment ago, about Kat having gotten the guy back then, suddenly registered. “What did you mean, I got the guy back then? You knew I was seeing Ryan?”
“How could I? He told me about the two of you. After we got together.”
He may have, but she had known long before that. This kind of anger and bitterness didn’t spring up from a fresh cut.
This was an old wound.
“You had a crush on him, didn’t you?”
“Stop it. He was cute. The cutest. That’s all I meant.”
“You’re the one who told Sara about us.”
“That’s stupid.”
“Were you following us? How’d you do it?”
“Again, you’re being ridiculous. Sara told me . I ran into her. She was upset. At the end of her rope, actually. She told me she was thinking of sending you away to school.”
Yes, Sara had been thinking about boarding school, but she wouldn’t have shared that with a teenager. Which meant Bitsy was lying. But why? What difference would it make now?
The truth hit her hard. It would make a difference only if Bitsy had something to hide. Or someone to protect.
Bitsy believed Ryan had killed Sara. Or worried that he might have.
And yet she still defended him. Still planned to marry him. It was sickening to Kat, who pushed away her untouched salad. “I seem to have lost my appetite. I’ll let you buy, Bits.”
Kat collected her purse and stood. Bitsy caught her hand in a viselike grip, stopping her. “Leave him alone, Kat.”
“Sorry, that’s not up to me.”
“We know a lot of people … we have a lot of friends. Ones who will look out for us. They can make your life very difficult.”
Kat narrowed her eyes at the threat. She freed her hand. “Do you like letter-writing, Bitsy?”
“Excuse me?”
“You get your jollies from it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m not going anywhere, old friend. Tell your husband-to-be he has nothing to worry about.” She paused. “Unless he killed my sister.”
Ryan Benton
2003
Two nights before the murder
The interior of the Mustang was hot, the air humid. Kat’s hair stuck to the back of her damp neck. She struggled to shimmy into her jeans while Ryan fired up a joint. The acrid scent stung her nose.
She looked at him. He lay back in his seat, shirtless, eyes hooded as he watched her. He was so handsome. She couldn’t believe he was with her.
“Can I test positive from just breathing in the smoke?” she asked.
“No way, babe. You’re good.”
“Are you sure, because I feel sort of high?”
“Go with it.”
She giggled. “’Kay.”
She got her shirt buttoned and scooted across the backseat to snuggle up to him. “I hate her. She doesn’t understand anything.”
“You’re here. Don’t worry about it.”
“Only because she had a fight with her stupid boyfriend. I wouldn’t have been able to sneak out otherwise.” She puckered her lips, recalling their raised voices, the roar of his truck driving off and the sound
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