That Night

“Remember Cathy?”


“Of course.” Since I’d run into her in Victoria, I’d seen her a few times outside one of the bars at the waterfront when I was driving home late. She was always smoking and hanging on to some guy. I’d overheard Mike talking about her at the restaurant once—she’d worked there briefly before her addiction became a problem. He also knew her mother, who was raising Cathy’s kids now.

“I’ve heard from some people that she’s been crying at parties lately about that night, saying she knows what really happened—that we were innocent. I’m sure now that Shauna and the girls did it.”

Ryan was watching me, his eyes steady, waiting for my reaction. But I was so surprised and shocked by what he’d said I didn’t know how to react. My head was spinning, memories from that last year, the trial, all rushing back.

I finally found my voice. “I saw her in Victoria a few months ago.” I told him about my run-in with Cathy.

“That might’ve been the trigger. It was easier to forget when we were out of sight, but then she saw you and now the guilt’s getting to her.”

I thought about Cathy’s nervous apology, her pale face. All these years I’d wondered. All these years I’d had a feeling they were involved. Was I right?

“She was acting really weird—and they were awful in school. But do you think they could have actually killed Nicole? It was so violent.…” I remembered Nicole’s cold hand inside mine, her nail ripped off. She must’ve fought so hard.

“It had to be them,” Ryan said. “They didn’t lie at our trial for fun.”

“If Cathy really is blabbing, don’t you think the police would’ve pulled her in for questioning?”

“Even if someone reported it to the cops, they’re not going to follow up. They don’t want anyone to find out that they got the wrong people.”

“How do you know she wasn’t just stoned and talking smack?”

“Her brother, he’s also a crackhead, he told an old buddy of mine his sister confessed to him that she knew what really happened to Nicole, but she wouldn’t say anything else—she was too scared. Why would she say crap like that if she wasn’t involved? I think she’s been itching to tell people for a long time but it just comes out when she’s high. She’s agreed to meet me this week.”

“Shit, Ryan.”

Was it true? They really did it? But why would they have gone after Nicole? It was me they hated. I wanted to search out Cathy myself and force her to tell me what she knew, but I pulled myself back from the ledge. Nothing was going to change the facts. We would never get those years back, would never be able to prove anything she said anyway. The system had already failed us once.

“You better be careful,” I said. “If Suzanne finds out, she could suspend your parole.” I knew Ryan and I would have the same parole officer—she was the only one in the north end—and talking to a witness from our case was bad news. You could get accused of intimidation. It didn’t take much to get sent back.

“Cathy won’t tell anyone. She’s too scared of Shauna.”

I imagined the girls that night, maybe hunting for me and seeing Nicole alone in the truck. I saw Nicole’s face, felt a jolt of anger at the brutality of the attack, and tried to shake it off. I had to think this through, had to be careful. We still didn’t know for sure what Cathy knew—if anything. But Ryan was right about one thing. If Cathy wasn’t involved, why would she be admitting that the girls lied back then? It might be to get attention—I saw that a lot in the joint. But revealing that you knew the truth about an old murder was a dangerous game. One I couldn’t get involved in—not if I wanted to stay out of prison.

“Even if it’s true, even if she does know something, no one would believe it. There’s no point to any of this. Just stay away from them, Ryan. Cathy’s proved she talks about shit she’s not supposed to when she’s high. You’re out on parole now. Don’t fuck everything up for yourself.”

“Don’t you want the real murderers to pay? They killed your sister—and took years of our lives. They took everything.”

He held my gaze and I saw the words he wasn’t saying: They took you. The moment swelled between us, the emotions raw. I remembered the kids we were, how I would have gone over to him and thrown my arms around him, how he would smell and taste, but now I knew nothing about him. He was a stranger.

Captain whined at the end of the leash, breaking the moment as he tried to pull me toward the docks.

“Of course I want the right person to be punished.” I wanted it so bad I couldn’t even think about it. And beneath that was another need. I wanted to sit and talk to Ryan. I wanted to go for a drive with him, wanted to get a coffee and share everything that had happened to him over the years. I wanted to know him again, but I couldn’t. We couldn’t. “But I’m not screwing up my life now. Do what you have to do, but leave me out of it.”

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