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FORTY-FOUR

Agitation rolls over me as the news comes to an end without one mention of Lily’s murder. I find it hard to believe the sheriff could be so incompetent not to have found the body yet. Surely someone would have tripped over her or seen the blood running down the alley into the gutter. I was sure someone from the beauty parlor would have gone out the back door by now. I click off the TV, unable to watch the screen for a moment longer. Watching the smug forensic anthropologist giving her opinion on the murder scene was a joke. Although, I’m concerned there’s evidence left at the Whispering Caves. Did the bodies of Cole and Abby really wash out during a storm or is someone setting me up? There are only a few of us who know exactly where we buried them. I’ve had my suspicions about Marissa and Lily, but now I’ve taken care of them they won’t be running their mouths off to anyone.

Dr. Larson was way overconfident when she delivered her proclamation about the DNA evidence found under Abby’s nails. No one had noticed the scratch on my neck because I’d been wearing a turtleneck, so I’m the only one who knows she scratched me. My only concern is what other evidence has been left behind. I figured we’d buried everything incriminating with them. The problem is, if Dr. Larson looks hard enough, she’ll find the bloody scarf I wiped my hands on after murdering them. I recall tossing it into the grave along with my blood-spattered jacket and my gloves. It hadn’t been my idea to bury everything deep and my friends’ support had surprised me. I can’t help smiling at the way they all fell into line. They actually believed me, but I figure poking myself in the eyes to make them water was the clincher. Everything had been fine until the bodies came floating down the river. My secret had been safe for twelve years.

We made a pact all those years ago to never give our DNA. All of us had touched the bodies and pressed our hands on Cole’s and Abby’s cooling flesh. It was a way to bind us all together, to make us keep the secret. Now my group is falling apart piece by piece and I can’t allow it to go on any longer. I admit killing them all would solve my problem, but as the last man standing, I’d be the prime suspect and I’d never be able to prove my innocence. I need to look in other directions and make assurances that no other evidence is found against us. I’ll devise another plan to save my skin. Time is my enemy.