So young! Even at fifteen to have to go through the court appearances, and the rehash of her trauma, and why had she never told me about this? Somehow she had escaped. I click on the images Barbara had attached in an email.
EXHIBIT A. Is Lucy Kennard’s body at the crime scene, a black and white photograph of a pretty girl splayed across a table.
EXHIBIT B INTERIOR CRIME SCENE ALLSWELD’S CARAVAN
A built in eating area photographed after the girl was taken to the hospital, shows the violence and chaos that must have occurred. I look closer and see the light linoleum floor smeared with blood, pots and pans from the cabinets and counters tossed everywhere onto the floor.
I click back to the photograph of Lucy. I don’t see any blood on her, well maybe some pooling under her nose but whose blood trail is this on the floor? Goddammit, I am going to ask Tina about this.
EXHIBIT C Victim’s Body
When I click on it a black and white photograph shows a three-inch long serpentine stitched wound. Wait a fucking minute! This shape healed years older is the scar on Tina’s lower back. I know it is. The one she had said was from barbed wire and a horseback riding accident.
I hear her key in the door, as she knocks calling my name.
Angelica in my arms sucking happily on a bottle I walk into the kitchen and Tina sits down on the bar stool at the counter. She looks tired, and she keeps tapping her phone on the counter. She’s nervous around me. I haven’t done a goddamn thing, other than silently lose my mind at the edge of a lake somewhere in rural Massachusetts.
“I’m having a drink. I need one. Meditation brings it out in me.” I try to lighten the mood. “Join me?”
“What are you fixing?”
“Honestly, I can get more elaborate in a minute, but right now I’m having Scotch neat. You?” I ask as I pour myself several fingers in a highball glass.
“I should have juice or something. I’ll get it though.”
“I’m standing right here. Are you sure you want apple juice = at five in the afternoon?” I emphasize.
“Pour me a Scotch.”
I slid Tina’s drink toward her, and add some more to mine. She takes a swallow. I do the same. It flames and then burns all the way down. Delightful.
“Bette, Dana died two hours ago.”
Up next is, Tomb Raider, a very funny story where Bette helps Alice steal Dana’s ashes and Tina, Shane and Helena assist.
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