“Read message,” I said as I watched as the three women all scrambled backward.
“From Apollo,” the car read. “So do you want the good news or the bad news?”
The curtains pulled closed, and I forgot that I was going to listen to a message.
Not thinking much about anything but getting inside, I shut off the SUV and bailed out of the truck, my feet sinking into two feet of snow that immediately went into my boots.
I ignored it and the car as I slammed it closed, keys still inside.
I trudged up to the house, very aware that I could see the three women peeking through the curtains at me.
My lips were twitching by the time I started knocking at the door.
No one answered.
“I didn’t send that message!” I called out.
There was some movement from inside, but the door didn’t open.
“I was fighting with my sister about a peanut butter and jelly sandwich,” I called out. “I called her the creep. Not you! I swear to Christ.”
More movement, but still no door opening.
“I had your messages open because I’ve done nothing but stare at them for a week now.”
That got the door open.
Two angry women stared at me, but not the one that my eyes were so desperate to see.
“Why were you reading her messages and not replying?” Birdee asked.
“And why were you gone in the first place? Why leave without saying goodbye?” Cody pushed.
Both of them were swaying on their feet and looked like a swift wind would knock them over if they weren’t careful.
I couldn’t tell them everything, but I could say, “I’ll tell Mable everything. But I’m sorry, I can’t tell you.”
Birdee leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, overly loud, “We know you killed a guy.”
My lips quirked. “She told you.”
“No,” Birdee continued in her non-whisper. “She didn’t tell us. We found it on my mother’s computer.”
My brows rose.
“You did?” I wondered.
“We did,” Cody nodded, clutching onto the door handle as she started to sway when her head was no longer sitting still. “We saw everything. There’s not a single thing you’ve done that we don’t know about.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
“You don’t know everything,” Mable called out, looking at me through the windows but not coming to the door.
“We know enough to know that you were put in jail for a life sentence and you didn’t serve that life sentence,” Cody chirped. “We’re probably going to jail, too. So that’s okay.”
I frowned. “What?”
“We killed someone,” Birdee slurred, as she reached for the wine bottle that was dangling precariously from Cody’s hand. “It wasn’t our fault.”
