Wow. If I knew I'd get that kind of feedback, I'd have killed Ricky chapters ago! Now you know why I had to slam out a few quick updates, I was desperate to show you all this part of the story and see what everyone thought! You guys are awesome. Hope you like this one too...
While Steve retrieved his muddy t shirt and sneakers from under the bed, I dressed in a daze, my mind whirling. I realized I'd made a mistake about something. Something big.
I caught Steve's eye in the mirror.
"Everywhere's muddy, it's been raining for a week," he said defensively. I nodded.
"Wear the sneakers today," I said, knowing that we would never get them clean and dry quickly, so we had to make it look like today's mud. His t shirt I bundled up with whatever was in my laundry basket and I threw in all the washer as we left.
My own sneakers matched Steve's, just from crossing the yard, by the time I got to the street and climbed into the car. Although the rain had stopped, the dirt was soaked. It was still early, barely six thirty. Of course we were headed to the Curtis house. Gang central. As Steve had pointed out, it was one short leap of a cop's imagination from him to the Curtis gang. We needed to see them first.
We pulled up at the same time as Two-Bit strolled along, looking like he hadn't been to sleep. And not in the sense that he'd been with Kathy. His eyes were bloodshot and his shirt had more than one stain that I really didn't want to identify. He reeked.
Although, he had clean jeans on, I noticed. And a darkening bruise on his cheek.
He seemed a little surprised, in fact he gave me a real strange look, I thought, but he loped easily up the steps behind us. "Morning," he said with a grim smile.
It was a beautiful morning, the sky clear, the sun already spreading across everything that had been washed clean by all the rain. It didn't fit the mood.
"Steve? That you?" Darry shut up abruptly as he saw me. Like he'd been expecting Steve to turn up. And to be alone. I saw some significant look pass between him and Steve, but there was no time to identify it, as Two-Bit started requesting outlandish breakfast items. As 'sure-fire' hangover cures.
"The only 'sure-fire' thing around here is, you ain't getting a thing unless you cook it yourself." Darry yawned widely.
We all followed him into the kitchen. He'd been cleaning his boots and he crumpled up a sheet of newspaper that was all over mud, dropping it into the trash.
Soda appeared from the direction of the bedrooms, looking tired. But dressed. In a filthy T shirt. He ran a hand through his messy hair.
"You got work this morning?" I asked him, curiously.
Soda chuckled nervously. "Yeah. I do. I'll...er, go change."
"Wait," Steve called him back. "While you're all here. We came to tell y'all, the cops just showed up at Evie's..."
"I gotta get a move on-"
"I need to change-"
"Can I eat, first?"
Every one of them spoke across Steve, in unison. Like they didn't want to hear what he had to say. Like they really didn't want to hear it.
Or maybe they already knew what he was going to say.
Was I being paranoid? Or were they acting as freaky as I thought they were?
I looked from one to the other. And every single one of them found something more interesting to look at, than my eyes.
Oh, God. No.
"The fuzz? What for?" Darry recovered first, broke the artificial silence, with an equally artificial sounding question. He yawned again.
"Yeah. What for?" Soda's contribution was so patently an act that I started to get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Two-Bit was the best liar of the group, but he said not one word.
"You fuckers," I breathed. "You know what for."
They dropped the innocent faces.
"Yeah. Word's out," Darry said shortly.
"I was with Jo. All night." Soda sounded firm, until he realized that I was staring at his t shirt. The t shirt covered in mud. "In the park..." he added lamely, drumming his hand on the edge of the counter top. Darry glanced at him sharply.
"I was at the billiards club. And Buck's. And a few other places. Ended up at Sylvia's joint..." Two-Bit sounded like he was making up the list on the spot. He swallowed as I regarded him and he looked away, rubbing his chin. Hell of a tell.
I turned my gaze to Darry.
He shrugged. "I was asleep. Me an' Pony had an early night." He locked eyes with Steve again, like he had when we arrived. This time, Soda glanced at Darry suspiciously.
I knew I was being lied to. I knew it in my gut. I was afraid to know why.
There was a knock at the front door, making all our heads swivel round. Nobody ever knocked at that door except officials. Darry walked out of the kitchen.
"Fuck," Soda muttered. All our eyes darted to him. He grimaced. "Pony ain't here."
"Go make his bed look slept in," Two-Bit said quickly.
My heart was thumping so hard it hurt. Ponyboy could have left early. Gone for a run. Could even be out back, smoking. Why would Two-Bit assume that because Soda said he wasn't here, that he hadn't been here all night? Darry had said...
Darry had lied, like every one of them.
Darry, who had told me only yesterday that every single one of them was a do-er. 'We got a problem, we do something about it.' Was I kidding myself to think that they didn't deal with Ricky, just because I'd asked them not to? And what about the mistake I'd made? What had been the consequences of that?
Soda jumped to it, towards the bedrooms, but he pulled up with a hiss, favoring his right leg, hopped a little. When he reappeared a minute later, he was tugging a clean t shirt over his head.
"Steve?" I leaned into him, as the voices in the front room got louder.
He kissed my forehead, whispering. "'S'okay, babe. Chill, just chill. It's all covered."
What? What was covered? I felt goose bumps rising on my arms as we all trooped into the front room, to find Darry and the two cops.
The grey haired one raised his eyebrows when he saw me and Steve.
"So. We got the right place then." Porter oozed sarcasm. "You could have told us the address, saved us asking around." He looked pointedly at me. "When we asked if you knew anyone who might hold a grudge against Hennessey."
"I dunno what you're talking about. You never asked me to give you all my friends' addresses. They didn't even know Ricky, much less hold any grudge." My voice sounded hollow.
He curled his lip.
The other cop was looking at his notebook with distaste. He squinted at Darry.
"You were here all night? With your brothers?" He looked enquiringly at Soda and Two-Bit, obviously having no idea who they were, or who was supposed to be Darry's alibi.
Darry nodded. Not providing any further details.
"You -" Porter pointed at Soda. "You're a Curtis, I remember. You here all night, like he says?"
Soda opened his mouth.
Shit! My brain screamed silently. Don't tell him that crock of shit about the park.
"Yeah. He was." Ponyboy's voice from the kitchen door made me jump. "We all were. Watched some TV, played some cards. Why'd you wanna know?" He leaned on the door frame, half in and out the room, dressed only in jeans. He rubbed his face, like he'd just woken up. "What's goin' on?"
Frigging Ponyboy Curtis was an Oscar winning, beyond belief, liar.
The younger cop checked off the Curtis boys on his list.
And then they looked expectantly at Two-Bit. He introduced himself pleasantly. It was no surprise to any of us that he was also on their list of people to check up on. They asked for his alibi and he was happy to supply it.
Two-Bit's convoluted drinking path through town began to try both cops' patience as he yammered on. "Time-wise, I confess I'm a little shaky, but I know y'all can check with the bar owner, 'cause I had a little discussion with one of the other customers." He indicated the bruise on his face. His knuckles were all beat up. "So, I'm pretty sure they'll remember me." He gave them Danny's details. He didn't explain that we knew Sylvia anyway.
He was under age, to be using the bars as an alibi, but I guess murder trumps drinking law infringements and the cops didn't seem bothered, except to look disappointed that he had people to vouch for him.
Eventually they took the evidence of their noses, I was pretty sure, because Two-Bit tried to see the notebook - to 'assist' them with spelling his name - and they both got a nose full of his liquor and vomit stained shirt.
They left, with threats to come back if they had the slightest suspicion anyone was screwing them around.
Darry shut the door politely and then stuck his finger up at their backs. I had the strongest feeling that every one of us was holding our breaths, until the cruiser disappeared from sight.
At which point we all span around to face Ponyboy, who was still leaning on the door frame.
"Where were you?" Soda and Darry exploded at the same time.
Obviously they were past caring that their 'alibi' meant nothing to me now.
Ponyboy eased up a little straighter and it became clear that leaning on the door had not all been for effect, because he winced. He wrinkled his face up, trying on an excuse for size.
"The library?" It was lame and he knew it.
The sick feeling had never left me. What had begun when I realized I didn't know where Steve was last night, was now a full blown whirlpool in my gut. Regardless of what they told the cops, all they'd had to do was say to me that they'd all been here, all night.
They hadn't.
It wasn't just that I didn't know where any of them had been. It was that they didn't know.
Steve said he'd been walking alone. But why were he and Darry shooting each other significant looks? Soda obviously hadn't been home all night and Darry didn't seem to believe him about the park, even without knowing what I knew. But Soda didn't believe Darry's story about having an early night – and given that he was so tired, that did seem unlikely. Neither of them knew where Ponyboy had been. And Two-Bit's non-alibi was laughable.
Except I didn't feel like laughing. I burst into tears and sat on the coffee table.
They all started talking at once. I couldn't make any sense past the 'Babe', 'Tink', 'Evie' mash up that meant they were all trying to make me feel better.
What had they done, to make me feel better?
I stamped my foot – ridiculous since I was sitting down, but they shut up.
"Tell me the truth. All of you. Tell me the fuckin' truth!" I looked around the lot of them as they stared back. "Please," I whispered. "You're scaring me."
"I told you..." Steve started. I held my hand up.
He hunched over, hands in his pockets. "Okay, okay. I was walking, I promise, like I said. Just...on the way back, I ran into Darry. Going by the park. We saw a cruiser parked up, and I convinced him to help me trash it but, before we could, they took off - that's when we heard the cops were onto something big. We agreed we oughta just say we were home."
Darry swallowed and nodded at me. "I fell asleep watching TV. Woke up and no one was home. I went out looking for Pony originally." He shot a venomous look Ponyboy's way.
"Okay, not the library." Ponyboy came into the room, revealing the hand he'd been shielding by leaning halfway in the room. And the blood stained t shirt wrapped around his hand.
"Pony!" Soda was across the room and examining his brother's bleeding knuckles in a split second. This time there was no disguising the limp and all of us saw it.
"Where the hell were you?" Darry asked Ponyboy fiercely.
"Out with Curly."
"Out where?"
"Played some pinball, had a run in with a coupla of jerks over whose turn it was." He held up his hand as evidence. "Stayed at Curly's pad. I knew you'd be pissed at me, so I didn't call. That's all. Honest."
I heard a noise beside me, like an indrawn breath. Two-Bit melted onto the floor, leaning his head back against the armchair, closing his eyes. If he wasn't hung over, he was doing a good impression.
Ponyboy shrugged. "One of the Shepard boys turned up, that's how I heard what went down. Figured I should get back here."
Soda tried to steer Ponyboy towards the bathroom, but Darry snapped,
"Not so fast. Soda, where'd you get to?"
Soda bit his lip. He shrugged. Attempted one of his classic 'you just gotta love me' smiles. Tapped his foot.
I swallowed. "Soda. Jo went up to her mom's yesterday. You couldn't have seen her last night."
He flushed. Christ, I suddenly went cold. Not because of Ricky, not that. Not truly, in my heart, could I think that about any of them. But I wondered, was there something else? Maybe he'd been with another girl? Was that why he was lying? He cleared his throat, embarrassed.
"You talked to her? Yeah. She did go up there. Okay, I was, er, not at the park. This guy was gonna give me a lift home, but he forgot, and I ended up walking. I kind of hurt my knee...Just a little bit, but it took a while to walk...'s'why I was gone all night."
"A lift home from where?" Darry asked quietly. Very quietly.
"Aw...I was over to Mac's ranch...Darry! Listen, nothing major happened, I never fell or nothin' -"
He moved backwards as Darry growled like an animal. "Are you kidding me?" he said. "You were ridin'? What'd you do to your knee?"
Soda shook his head. "It's nothing."
"Darry, chill, he's been doing it for months..."
"Shut up, Pony!" Soda turned on Ponyboy with a grimace.
"I'm just sayin' you've been fine..."
The three of them disappeared towards the bathroom, Darry's voice rising as he berated Soda for going riding behind his back, and threatened to take out his injured leg himself.
I put my head in my hands, tried to take some deep breaths. Soda hurting himself by riding some stupid freaking horse was insignificant beside the fact that he was without an alibi, if the cops came back wanting the truth. I wasn't sure even Steve and Darry would cover enough of the time in question, if they tried to vouch for each other.
I realized that was why they had agreed to stick to the story that they'd been home all the time.
"Hey." Steve crouched down in front of me, made me look at him. "Like I said, babe, I ain't sorry he got his. But we didn't take the bastard out. When I said we had it covered, I just meant we know how to talk to the cops." Steve waited me out. I nodded.
"Good." I didn't know what else to say.
"Hey, you're not so bad yourself," he added, with a half smile. "'They didn't even know Ricky, much less hold any grudge.' And back at your house? You held your nerve good."
I gave him a weak smile and asked him to make me some coffee. To make him leave.
Because for all I tried to convince myself that my fears had been irrational, completely irrational, I'd never truly think that any of the guys could commit murder, for all that, there was still something that didn't quite make sense. Something that I couldn't let slide.
When Steve was gone, I nudged Two-Bit with my toe. He snapped his eyes open, revealing that he hadn't been asleep at all.
"Two-Bit. I realize I told you some stuff without thinkin'. I told you Lonnie's name and what kind of car he drives. I want you to tell me what you did with that information." I raised my eyebrows at him and waited for him to speak. He nodded real slow.
"I ain't gonna lie, Tink. I asked around. I found out it wasn't his wheels you saw 'round the neighborhood. Couldn't've been. The asshole rolled said gray Imperial coupla days after...after what happened to you. They're saying he ain't ever gonna wake up." He spoke calmly. I believed him. But there was something more in his grey eyes than just honesty though. It looked like he was real sad about something.
"You didn't tell Steve?"
He shook his head. "No point."
"So what about last night?" Maybe my mistake about Lonnie hadn't had terrible consequences, but the thing that was wrong about his alibi was still wrong and I still wanted answers.
"You know me, Tink," he said quietly. "Everyone knows me. Half a dozen guys in any bar you choose, they'll all swear I was there, drinking the night away." He swallowed. "I got in a fight at Sylvia's, you can ask her yourself." Once again I believed that he wasn't lying. Not about that. But...
"Two-Bit Mathews, I do know you. You never spill that much liquor on you. You're the neatest drunk in the world. An' I never seen you get sick from it," I whispered. "Who the hell chucked on you?"
He glanced around guiltily, although there was only us in the room. He tried to shake his head, to say he couldn't say, but I fixed him with a death glare and he sighed, still whispering,
"Curly. Curly Shepard hurled on me when I was taking him home from Buck's, around four this morning." He couldn't hold my eye, he almost looked like he was in pain. "He was kind of out there. Thought I'd be a Good Samaritan, y'know."
"So, Ponyboy was lying about where they were, that's not..." I trailed off, because Two-Bit shook his head slowly.
"Nah. Curly was on his own. Never saw the kid."
When he held my gaze this time, he looked about as sick as I felt. Oh, shit.