Chapter Twenty Eight
True Friends Stab You In The Front
Chloe and Rachel were already pacing in the parking lot next to the Two Whales by the time Max got off the bus. Out of the corner of her eye she spied the local fisherman with whom she'd had a few spirited conversations in another timeline, though he didn't have a booth set up in this world, meaning the fish were safe at last. He was having a smoke to the left of the main entrance, alongside an exceptionally acerbic trucker who seemed to pop up everywhere, yet barely left an impression. All of these people, though each of them were the heroes of their own stories, felt like little more than background radiation in her life.
Was that why she found it so easy to give up a whole town, just to save one person she actually cared about?
It didn't matter that she'd managed to create a timeline where Arcadia Bay was never destroyed. The others still existed out there, somewhere, and a whole town of people had suffered through it every time. So why didn't she even remember their names?
It was a macabre thought to have this early in the morning, but Max was way past pretending her life was normal anymore. She'd been in this timeline for almost a week now, and she still hadn't used her powers for anything other than fixing her own mistakes. Chloe thought of her as a superhero, and Rachel did too. Even Warren couldn't stop singing her praises. But all she'd ever done with her powers was try to impose her will on an uncaring universe, picking and choosing the outcomes she saw as more favorable instead of just having to deal with disappointment like everybody else.
It was all just… metagaming.
Steph's brief roleplaying advice from last night had allowed her to finally articulate the exact depths of how selfish she'd been with her powers, even while wanting to use them to achieve some greater good. But she'd been down that road before. Morality could suck it when it came to Chloe and Rachel. And Kate. And everyone else she gave a shit about.
'I guess, in a way, everybody only cares enough to help the people they're closest to. Otherwise you'd just get torn apart at the seams trying to save everybody.'
By this time she had crossed the parking lot. Chloe spotted her first, turning around and raising a hand in greeting.
"Good, you're here."
"Hey," she said in reply. "Where's Frank?"
"Your guess is as good as mine. Could be he got caught up somewhere else, but most days you can set your watch by him. He's almost always on time."
"We could just be early," said Rachel. "He didn't specify an exact time, did he?"
"You'd know better than me. What'd he say when you texted him on Tuesday?"
Rachel shrugged. "Just that he'd see us today. I figured you'd have the rest of the details."
"Fuck it, I'm calling him." She pulled out her phone. "Gotta do everything myself."
The phone rang, and Max shared a glance with Rachel. Chloe turned around, sticking a finger in her uncovered ear. "Hey Frank? It's Chloe. Yeah, where are you?"
There was a pause, and Chloe grew visibly irritated. "What the fuck are you doing there? You said you'd be at the diner, same time as Monday! No, I'm not high! No one else will sell to me in this shithole town!" She waited for another few seconds. "Fine, whatever. We're on our way."
Snapping the phone shut as dramatically as she could, Chloe stuffed it back in her pocket and turned around to face them again. Max and Rachel crossed their arms and tilted their heads to the side with a degree of synchronicity that bordered on bizarre.
"So?"
"He's at the junkyard. Told me that's where he said the meet would be when he saw me on Monday. Asshole must have been on something, because he told me to meet him here."
"And you're positive that you're remembering that right?"
"I've been involuntarily sober for six days, Rachel; I'm pretty fucking sure I heard him say to meet here."
Max squinted, debating whether or not to bring up something that just occurred to her. Distracted as she was, Chloe still noticed her hesitation.
"What is it, Max?"
"Probably nothing. It's just that last night the same thing happened with Steph. When you and I saw her on Tuesday, she invited us to her place for game night, right?"
"Yeah, I remember her saying that. Why?"
"Warren remembered her saying to meet at the Performing Arts building, and he ended up being right. So how come you and I remember it differently?"
"I dunno. Plans change. Like you said, it probably has nothing to do with this."
"Hold on, though," said Rachel, holding up a finger. "Ms. Grant supposedly hasn't shown up at school since Monday, but I saw her Tuesday morning. Nobody else remembers her being there, but I saw her just like I'm seeing the two of you now."
They said nothing in response.
"This doesn't fucking matter," Chloe decided, marching towards the truck. "Let's just go meet Frank so we can get our answers and be done with all this shit."
Max lurched forward and grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. "Before we do, let's compare notes about what we learned last night. Did you two find out anything on your stakeout?"
Chloe and Rachel looked sheepishly at each other, then back to her. "We didn't catch anything interesting," said Chloe. "The guy just worked on cars all night, and Rachel went digging through some files her dad kept on Sera. Turns out she did work for the Prescotts, and he knew all along."
"There was a military project from thirty years ago called Operation Charybdis," said Rachel. "And get this: Eliot's dad was involved in the project, starting the year before I was born. Then he disappeared ten years ago."
Nodding, Max stroked her chin. "Well, Eliot's definitely involved with the place you were staking out," she revealed. "Apparently the guy who owns it went to Blackwell with Drew North's dad, and he helped them out three years ago when all that shit went down. Drew and Eliot have been picking up packages all over town and delivering them to that place."
"Why all over town?" Chloe crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, shifting her weight onto her right leg. "Arcadia Bay has a post office and that's about it. No Amazon warehouse for us."
"You got me." She scratched the back of her neck. "I got the feeling he was holding back some pretty important details."
"All the more reason we should talk to Frank," said Rachel. "He's bound to know if this Bradshaw guy is into anything shady."
"He's not the only one. Nathan's been busy doing cover-up work. He convinced Kate that Stella's the one who drugged her and Victoria. I knew he was evil, but…"
Chloe quirked her lips to the side. "You told them the truth though, right?"
"I tried. But they didn't believe me. I had to rewind. Until we dig up proof of what Nathan and Jefferson are doing, we can't tell anyone about it. It'll only make it easier for them to discredit us and pin the blame on someone else."
"Even if it means someone innocent gets caught in Victoria's crosshairs?" asked Rachel. "I know you said she's changed because of everything that's happened with Kate, but I've seen her on the warpath before. Stella's gonna get crucified."
"And Brooke. Victoria figured out the Facebook hack too. Stella and Alyssa were right next to her when she basically gloated in Jefferson's class yesterday, and I only found out about all this other stuff because Victoria and her posse were literally chasing her across campus."
Chloe rolled her eyes. "Look, we've got bigger shit to worry about than Blackwell drama. Let's stay focused."
She nodded. "You're right. The only other thing is I got the server logs, but at this point I'm not sure they'll help. And no, Chloe, I still don't think we should go to the feds with it."
Rachel whirled around, eyes flaring as she glared at Chloe. "Hold on, you wanted to what?"
"I wanted to pull one over on those suits and get them to help us track the login," she explained, her body taut with nervous energy as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "But Max is right: that's a stupid idea, even for me."
"You're goddamn right it is," she said. "You can't play the FBI, and even if you could, Sam's had her eye on all of us this whole week, I guarantee it. Let's just forget about the fucking logins. Not every clue leads to an answer."
Max nodded, then quirked her lips to the side. "Maybe we've just been thinking about this the wrong way."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I built that whole theory on something David said in a video. What if we've been giving these people too much credit? Maybe they got the combination some other way. They've gotta be written down on paper somewhere, like in the Principal's office, right?"
Crossing one arm over her chest, Rachel held the other up to her chin, scratching it briefly. "You're right. I was Wells' admin assistant three years running. The combinations aren't even locked up in his office; they're in the room next to it. Anyone with access to those filing cabinets would've been able to find them easily."
"Then we just need to find out who his assistant is."
"That might be a problem," she replied. "I wasn't the only one." At their confused expressions, she continued. "I helped him out first period, but it counts as a class credit, so anybody with a good enough GPA can apply for it."
"Do you know who's on that list this year?"
Rachel shook her head. "Not really. But it's a solid lead; better than we had before. We should check it out once we're done with Frank."
"Well I've had enough loitering for one morning," said Chloe. "Let's go before my mom comes out here to lecture us some more."
Max rubbed her stomach. "Too bad. I'd kill for one of her omelets right now."
Chloe grumbled as the three of them started walking towards the truck. "If it means that much to you, we can all get breakfast after this is over. But business before pleasure."
Chuckling, Rachel opened the door for Max, who slid into the middle of the cabin before they sandwiched her in. "Can't argue with that."
The noonday sun had risen over the junkyard by the time they arrived, and Frank's RV blended almost perfectly into the rusted landscape filled with things that had outlived their usefulness. Max felt suddenly cold, even while wedged between Chloe and Rachel as the truck slowed to a halt just past the railroad tracks.
"Last chance," said Chloe, glancing at her reflection in the rear-view mirror. "Are we doing this, or should we just leave Arcadia Bay once and for all?"
Opening the passenger's side door, Rachel sent both of them a confident grin. "Stop worrying. Everything's gonna work out just fine."
They both shrugged and exited the truck, with Max following Rachel's lead. They strode towards the RV, where they could see that Frank was already lounging in the sun, while his dog was nowhere to be seen. Based on previous experience, Max surmised that Pompidou must be on standby in case things got hairy.
"Yo, Frank!" Chloe held up a hand, and he slowly roused from his relaxed position, looking over the three of them.
"Finally." He stood up just as they came within ten feet of the RV. "The hell took you so long?"
"Dude, it's been like fifteen minutes."
"I know."
Rachel stepped ahead of both of them, and for a second Frank hesitated, as if contemplating what to say. Finally he settled on a simple: "Hey."
"Hey yourself. How's business?"
"Can't complain. Be a lot simpler if people paid what they owe on time."
"Sorry about that." She brushed her hair behind her right ear, looking sheepish. It was clearly a practiced gesture, but given the way Frank reacted to it Max couldn't fault her for laying on the charm. "It's my fault, really. Chloe had to fix up her truck a few months ago, and they wouldn't approve her for a credit card. Took us this long just to scrape it back together."
"Sounds more like her fault."
"But I'm the one who told you she was good for it," said Rachel. "And in a way I did end up guaranteeing the loan, considering most of this is allowance money."
"Alright then," he crossed his arms. "Let's see it."
Fishing around in her pockets, Rachel pulled out a small envelope that she then tossed over. Frank caught it casually, not taking his eyes off the three of them until it was time for him to count. He finished doing so a minute later, then nodded in their direction.
"Well, better late than never. Now we're square." He paused for a few moments, and the silence stretched on as they stared awkwardly back and forth. "What are you still doing here?"
"We uh…" Chloe clasped her hands together behind her back, bringing her left heel up to knee height before dropping it back on the ground again. "We wanted to ask a few questions. You know, while we're here."
He stared skeptically for a few seconds before Rachel moved between them, smiling sweetly. "What Chloe means is that you're the one person in town who might be able to help us right now. Did you hear what happened to me on Tuesday?"
Frank shook his head.
"Someone planted two pounds of weed in my locker and got me suspended," she clarified. "We've chased down a bunch of leads, and we can't get any further without asking you about it."
There was another long, tense silence as his eyes settled briefly over all three of them, settling the longest on Max. Finally, he shrugged. "Can't help you. I don't sell that much product at a time. Don't want someone else selling in my territory and trying to undercut me. Besides, even if I wanted to tell you who I've sold to, I can't. My ledger went missing yesterday."
It was Max who responded first. "Missing?"
"Stolen, more like. Don't worry: if I thought it was any of you we'd be having a different conversation."
"Why tell us?" asked Chloe.
"Because it's better to give kids like you a reason why talking to me is a waste of time so you don't start getting stupid ideas. And like I said, we're square now. I'm a reasonable guy as long as you don't try and fuck with me. But I don't know who's behind this any more than you do."
"Maybe you can tell us about someone else, then," said Rachel. "Chloe and I dug up information linking a number of my dad's investigations to an auto repair shop owned by a guy named Clayton Bradshaw. Who, by the way, also owns this junkyard."
Frank's eyes flashed with recognition. "Bradshaw, huh? Why the hell are you looking into him?"
"Answer my question first: who is he?"
"He's a fixer. The auto shop's just a front."
"What does he fix?"
"Depends on who's asking. I mostly do my own dirty work, but Damon used him as a middleman a few times. Basically he gets people indebted to him, usually kids, then gets them to do whatever the job is."
"Like planting weed in my locker."
"Exactly."
"Kids like Drew North?" asked Max. "Last night he told me that he's been making deliveries for him."
Frank shrugged. "Could be. Look, all you need to know is that if Bradshaw's involved, your best move is to run like hell and never look back. If you go after him, it won't end pretty. Believe it or not, I worry about you kids."
Craning her head back, Max squinted in disbelief. "But you don't even know me."
"No, but word travels fast. You were with these two at Sam Black Elk's bar, and half my customers are Blackwell students. I know exactly who you are, Max Caulfield."
She didn't have a response to that. She stood there, blinking mutely.
"Look, we know Bradshaw's just the middleman," said Chloe. "Best we can figure, this is all designed to fuck with the DA's re-election campaign, and ruin Blackwell's reputation in the process. Can you think of anyone who'd wanna do that?"
He shook his head. "Sorry. I don't keep track of all that shit. I just sell drugs to losers." He glanced at Rachel. "Present company excluded, of course."
"Thanks. Real helpful, Frank."
"Why do you even care so much about this? A weed charge is never gonna stick against the DA's daughter, even if she really did bring it to school. Just give it a week and it'll all blow over. I swear, you kids don't realize how good you have it."
"Frank, please." Rachel pouted in his direction, and his expression immediately sobered. "If you know anything that could help, we'd really appreciate it."
"Sorry, can't help." He crossed his arms and looked away from them. "Besides, I heard this isn't the only thing you're asking questions about."
"What do you mean?"
"I know you're looking for answers about Sera," he elaborated. "But that's a dead end, Rachel. You should let it go."
Her teeth gnashed, and Rachel leaned aggressively forward. He didn't flinch.
"Look, I'm just saying this because I care about you." His frown deepened, and he looked back towards them again. "How about this: you promise to drop this, all of this…" He tossed the envelope back to her, and she caught it, almost as an afterthought. "…and I'll let you keep the money. All of it."
The three of them stepped back, stunned.
"Are you fucking serious?" asked Chloe.
"Listen. You three are in way over your goddamn heads. The people Bradshaw works for can make your life a living hell, if they don't just kill you first. Whatever's important enough that they'd go after the DA, you really don't want to get involved."
"Except we already are," said Max. "And we're sick of adults saying they know what's best for us. You don't know shit."
His beady eyes narrowed and he squinted threateningly at her, but she stood firm. Next to her, Chloe crossed her arms and glared daggers at him.
"Where's all this coming from, Frank? You don't really give a fuck about any of us." She gestured in Rachel's direction. "Well, except her. But even she stopped working for you six months ago."
Frank blinked, shaking his head rapidly back and forth. "Working for me? What the hell are you talking about?"
"Don't play dumb with me, Frank. She told me herself. She was running messages between you and Samantha Black Elk, and then one day she just couldn't do it anymore."
A solid thirty seconds went by, during which Max noticed Rachel getting visibly nervous. Frank remained stoic for as long as he could, before doubling over in laughter. "Christ, is that what she told you? Oh, geez. You need to take a good long look at that fishing pole you swallowed, Price, because she got you hook, line, and sinker."
Chloe stood there, a quiet rage creeping over her features before she turned to glare at Rachel, whose poker face had broken entirely with this unexpected development.
"What the fuck is he talking about?"
"Chloe, please. I can explain later."
"Explain now!"
"Chloe…"
"Wait were you…?" Her face scrunched up in disgust, then fury. "What the fuck, Rachel? Him? Really?"
Rachel offered nothing in reply.
"Whoa, hey, let's all just calm down," said Frank, stepping between them. "It's in the past. I don't have any hard feelings and neither does she."
"Fuck off, Frank! Get out of my face before I rearrange yours!"
He only laughed. "It's cute how you think you can threaten me. Don't go making a bigger deal out of this than it needs to be."
Max stepped forward. "Frank, you need to back down. Rachel told me why she left you. You scared the hell out of her."
Chloe whirled on her. "Wait, you fucking knew about this?"
Oh fuck.
She lifted her hand to rewind, but stopped when Rachel shook her head. A silent conversation passed between them in an instant, and she relented for now. "I did. I've known since…" She glanced at Frank. "…since before all this started. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I knew you'd react like this."
"Well you were goddamn right!"
"Look, you clearly don't want me here, and the feeling's mutual," said Frank, holding up his hands and backing up. "Go ahead and have your little girl fight. I'll be ready whenever you finally grow a pair."
"That's right, run away!"
He ignored her, turning on his heel and disappearing into the RV. As soon as he was out of sight, Chloe resumed glaring at Rachel with unholy fury.
"Okay Chloe, I know you're mad, but I can explain."
"Explain what? How you fucking lied to me and Max on Tuesday? How you've been lying about who knows how many other things?" She gestured towards the RV. "God, what did you even see in him? He's a fucking loser who sells drugs out of a shitty RV with only his mangy dog for company."
"As opposed to a cool model citizen like you, who sits in her room all day smoking pot and bitching about her stepfather? And don't insult Pompidou just because you're mad at me."
"The dog? You're defending the dog? What about your old boytoy?"
Rachel shrugged. "What about him? We had some good times together, but it didn't work out. We broke it off on good terms, and it's in the past now."
"But you told me he scared the shit out of you," said Max. "Or was that a lie too?"
"No, he did. He was drunk and pissed off because one of his buddies overdosed, and I walked in at a bad time. He apologized for it, and I forgave him. It wasn't why we broke up. It was because you called Chloe that one night, and I decided to reevaluate my life. That part of what I told you was true."
Crossing her arms, Chloe leaned slightly to one side. "Why'd you even start dating in the first place? In case you forgot, his old boss fucking stabbed you."
"That's actually the reason I started spending time with him," she answered. "He had answers about my mom, and he was willing to kill Damon over what he did to me. Frank made me feel safe at a time when I felt like I was on a beach at high tide, ready to be swept away. Everything else just kinda happened from there."
She reeled back as if struck. "I don't make you feel safe?"
"Of course you do! But you're not the only person in my life, Chloe." She gestured towards the two of them. "That's kinda why I suggested this whole arrangement."
"So that's it, then? You're just collecting people for your harem?"
Rolling her eyes, she looked up at the sky briefly before answering. "Chloe, listen. I know you're upset, but jealousy really isn't a good look on you. I'm not with Frank anymore. I'm with you two."
"For fuck's sake!" She stomped on the dirt in front of her, clenching her fists at her sides. "I'm not mad because you were banging Frank! I'm pissed because you didn't fucking tell me!"
Rachel craned her neck back and planted her hands firmly on her hips. "And why should I have? Huh? You don't get to know every little thing that goes on in my life, especially since we weren't dating at the time."
"Well we're dating now!"
"So what? I have a right to privacy, Chloe."
"Bullshit! You didn't tell me because you were afraid I'd give you shit for it!"
"Well given how you're acting right now I'd say that was a fair assessment!"
"Since when has me giving you shit ever stopped you from doing something? Do you really care that much about what I think?"
"Yes, Chloe! I absolutely fucking care." She looked down, clasping her hands together in front of her waist. "You're one of the most important people in my life."
"Then why keep this from me? Were you ashamed of it or something? Were you even legal when you started—"
"That's not important," she said firmly. "Frank and I are over, okay? You and Max are the ones I care about the most now."
"That's not the fucking point!" Chloe thundered. "If you'll lie to me about something this stupid, what won't you lie about? I'm losing track of what's real with you and what's just a face you put on around me! Is anything you say true?"
"Of course it is! I love you, Chloe!"
"How can I believe that? How can I believe that the second someone better comes along, you won't just ride off to Los Angeles without me?"
Reeling back, Rachel stared at her as if her shirt had begun sprouting gnomes. "Chloe I'd never-that's the dumbest fucking thing I've ever heard you say! You're the whole reason I haven't left!"
"What?"
"I made it clear from fucking day one: I want out of Arcadia Bay." She stomped closer, pointing for emphasis with each syllable. "I told you I had no reason to stay. Nothing that was keeping me here. And then you came along."
Max moved her hand forward and opened her mouth, but produced no words. Rachel continued to erupt, while Chloe stood there, stunned.
"You never change, Chloe! I don't think you want to! You're stuck in the past, and you try to drag in everyone around you. I think you actually like being miserable, feeling like the whole world's out to get you. At least that way nothing ever has to be your fault!"
"Hey, fuck you! You think I like the way my life is? I wake up every morning hating myself, hating this town, hating my dad for leaving me, and hating all the fucking bullshit that's happened in the last five years! Where do you get off telling me I want any of this?"
Rachel chuckled darkly. "You know, I think I finally figured out what the tornado was for. The other me, the one that died because she just couldn't stop hoping that one day you'd actually leave with her, sent that thing hurtling towards Arcadia Bay because as long as this fucking town exists, you're never gonna leave!"
"Well what about you? You've been saying the last few days that you don't want to leave before we get to the bottom of all this mystical shit!"
"And what have you done to help? You've shot down every idea Max and I have, like this shit is just supposed to work itself out! You don't want us to bring anybody else into this either!"
"That's because your suggestions were Step-Fucker, Frank, and Nathan fucking Prescott! I don't trust any of them and neither should you!"
"You didn't think bringing in Warren would be a good idea either," said Max, folding her arms over her chest. "But so far he's been nothing but helpful."
"So you're taking her side, then?"
"Yes, because you're being ridiculous, Chloe! Both of you are! If you'd both calm down for five fucking minutes you'd see how stupid it is to fight like this when we have way more important shit to worry about!"
"Like what? We're getting nowhere on this investigation, and every answer we do find leads to five more questions! What if the reason we haven't been able to find anyone who framed Rachel is because she's been lying about everything?"
She leaned forward, all rationality having left her eyes, replaced with fiery rage. "What if those drugs were yours all along?"
"Chloe, that doesn't make any sense! You're angry and you need to go cool down before you say anything else you'll regret!"
"I'm not the one who should be having regrets!" She ground her teeth, turning back to Rachel. "I have been listening to you whine for three years about how your perfect fairy tale life fell apart when you realized, surprise, your dad's a shitty person! But that's got nothing on what I've gone through! You're still a spoiled princess who can't be honest with anybody because they're all just too busy worshipping you! Boo fucking hoo!"
Rachel's defenses faltered, and for a moment she looked as though Chloe had shot her through the heart. Then her face reassembled itself into a mask of anger that matched the other girl's, and Max could only watch helplessly as they tore each other to shreds.
"That's enough, Chloe. I may not have gone through what you did, but I have been there for you ever since we met. You can't move on because you define yourself by that one day when your life changed forever. That's what Frank was for me. A way to move on. But that never meant I wanted to leave you behind. I want you to move forward with me."
"You know something funny? My mom said the same thing about David." She turned away, glaring at a nearby cinderblock. "Maybe I'm not ready to move on. Maybe I never will be."
"That's where you're wrong, Chloe. Maybe you haven't been able to see it, but you have been healing these past three years. I wouldn't have suggested this relationship if I didn't think there was a future for all of us. And I want to be here when you're ready to be part of that future."
"Then why lie to me?"
By now tears had formed in all of their eyes, and Chloe's voice had started to break. Rachel frowned and broke her gaze, her voice descending to a low mutter.
"I don't know. Maybe I should have told you the truth. But I'm not the one who can change the past. And neither are you. We just have to find a way to live with it."
"And take it from me," said Max. "Sometimes going back to change things just makes it all worse."
It was silent for a few moments before Chloe chuckled darkly, offering nothing in reply. She turned and started walking away, and neither of them stopped her. Max raised a hand to rewind, but Rachel intercepted her and lowered it again. They watched in silence as Chloe marched to the truck, then peeled out in a wide arc before rocketing off down the road.
"Don't bother, Max," said Rachel, trying to hold the pieces of her heart together. "I'd just say it all again."
