Ugly Young Thing

“No.”

 

 

“We were able to link a few of them to your mother. Did you have any knowledge that she was involved with any murders?”

 

“No.”

 

The agent’s voice softened. “Were you told that we found your mother’s body, too? In the pond?”

 

Bile crawled up her throat. “Yes.”

 

“What happened to her?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“As far as I understand, she was never reported missing.”

 

Please . . . just leave me alone! she screamed inside her head. Talking to them about her mother . . . her brother . . . everything that had happened just made it more real. She couldn’t handle it being any more real.

 

Allie turned to Miss Bitty. “Can we stop? Please?”

 

Miss Bitty jumped to her feet. “Is this really necessary? As far as I know her brother’s case is closed, so I don’t understand the point of you questioning her again.”

 

The caseworker intervened. “It’s better if she answers their questions now. Let’s just answer them and get it over with.”

 

“Your caseworker is right,” Agent Jones said. “Now that you’re back and have had a couple of days to get settled, we just want to wrap—”

 

“Well, let me save you a lot of time,” Allie said, raising her chin in defiance. “I know nothing. Nothing! I had no idea my brother was involved with anything. I was as surprised as everyone else seems to be. I didn’t know the girls. I didn’t know he knew the girls. I never saw them around. How many times do I have to tell you people the same things? My story isn’t going to change, because it’s the truth!”

 

“Your mother?” the FBI agent gently prompted. “For instance, did she—”

 

“My mother barely had anything to do with us,” Allie snapped. “One day she was there, then one day she wasn’t, so I just figured she ran off with one of her clients.” Allie stopped to take a breath. “Look, I barely even knew the woman. If you have questions about her, maybe you should ask Sheriff Hebert,” she said, gesturing to the big man again. “Because I’m pretty sure he knew her a whole lot better than I did.”

 

The sheriff visibly stiffened.

 

Agent Jones glanced at him, and he shrugged as if he didn’t know what Allie was talking about, but his face was beet red. He cleared his throat. “Okay, I think that’s enough for now. Thank you for talking with us. If we have anything else, we’ll be back by.”

 

 

 

 

Kneeling on bare knees, Allie yanked weeds out of the damp earth. Caring for Miss Bitty’s organic garden was one of her many chores around the house.

 

The new jobs filled her with a sense of pride. She’d never really been responsible for anything before. They kept her mind busy, too, and off the sheriff’s visit earlier in the day.

 

After working for a little more than an hour, she stood and stretched. Her head spun just thinking about the good stuff that was happening. She had decided she was going to work hard and make the old woman proud, because she knew that if she was given a second chance, she wasn’t likely to be given a third.

 

She listened to Miss Bitty and did everything she asked. She was even drinking the green smoothies—and, as long as she threw a little apple in the blender, they were delicious.

 

She would also start cashiering at a supermarket soon. She fantasized about what it would be like to get paychecks.

 

Real ones, on paper.

 

Not just wadded-up bills on a nightstand.

 

Someone placed a hand gently on the middle of her back. “Allie?”

 

She jumped and peered over her shoulder, expecting to see Miss Bitty. But no one was there.

 

She spun around. Again, no one.

 

A shiver slid up her spine.

 

Did I just imagine that? She folded her arms across her body and held herself tightly.

 

“Yes,” she said aloud, needing to convince herself. She had just imagined it. It was the only possibility because there was no way . . . no way in hell she was getting sick.

 

Her eyes welled up with tears. No, things were finally beginning to look up. She finally had a real chance. A chance for something normal. A chance to finally be happy.

 

Wiping tears from her cheek, she threw herself back into her work. “Stop screwing with me,” she growled, digging harder, not sure who she was talking to . . . wondering if it could be her mother. After all, if the woman had the power to make her miserable from hell, she would do it.

 

Actually, it would be better if it was her mother because that would only mean she was being haunted. And she would much rather be haunted than crazy.

 

“Just let me be happy for once,” she hissed. “Make someone there in hell with you miserable and leave me the fuck alone.”

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

Allie froze. But she refused to turn around, hoping that if she didn’t entertain whomever or whatever it was, it would eventually go away.

 

“Can you hear me?” the voice said.

 

Allie started jabbing at the broken earth again.

 

“Um, hello?”

 

She dug harder, a stream of tears warming her cheeks.

 

A long shadow appeared next to her. What the—? She whirled around, brandishing the hand shovel. “I said, get the hell—”

 

A girl about her age stepped backward, her eyes wide as saucers. “Oh my God. Sorry. I—”

 

Allie narrowed her eyes. “How long have you been standing there?”

 

“Uh, a few seconds, maybe?” The girl seemed confused. “Why?”

 

Allie quickly wiped the tears away. “What are you doing here?”

 

The girl gave Allie a quick, but unmistakable, once-over, then smiled confidently, showing a mouth full of perfect teeth. “My mom’s inside. She came here to lose weight.”

 

Allie weighed the girl’s words. “So you’re not a new foster kid?”

 

“Uh, not that I know of.” The girl shot her another confident grin. “If only I were so lucky. My mother’s a complete head case.”

 

“Oh,” Allie muttered, relieved. For a moment she had been afraid that the girl was going to take her place.

 

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