Lincoln Loud had always been a wimp. He was scrawny, weak, and built like a twig. His arms looked like they belonged on a trumpet playing skeleton, his legs had all the power of a soft rock station, and he was easily winded because he spent most of his time inside playing video games and reading comic books instead of building up a tolerance to exertion. He was shy, timid, bashful, and wracked with an unhealthy amount of angst and anxiety. If he knocked over a cup at dinner, his mind would instantly conjure the worst possible outcome. Could a Pepsi soak into the carpet, drip through the floorboards beneath, and rain down on the circuit breaker, causing a massive, deadly fire? He didn't know. It seemed unlikely but that's where his head would automatically go. He's envision smoke in the middle of the night, the crackle of hungry flames, the screams of his family slowly roasting to death like a pig on a spit. His fault, he would think as he choked and died on his bedroom, all his fault.
In addition to this, Lincoln was kind of a coward when it came to his sisters, by whom he was flanked on either side: Five older, five younger. The older ones had controlled and dominated his life from the very beginning and the younger ones were learning to do the same. If he wanted to quietly read a comic in his room, he could do so only at the mercy of his sisters. Sometimes, they would get offended that he wanted to be alone rather than hanging out with them, so they would storm his room and drag him out. One time he got a pair of noise cancelling ear buds to drown out some of the chaos that endlessly raged around him. From the way his sisters reacted, you would think he murdered one of them. Lori, Leni, Luna, and all the others got the luxury of being alone and doing their own thing, but not him. His entire life, it seemed, was only to serve them.
Honestly, they weren't exactly polite and respectful of each other either, and he may have taken things a little too personally. One time Lori was sick but the sisters made her come to Lynn's game anyway, and another time, they all ganged up on Lucy for spending too much time in her special dark place. What, you think you're better than us? If Lincoln stepped back and looked at things from afar, he would say that while he maybe got a little more "attention" than the others, his sisters didn't mean to specifically pick on him. That's just how they were. He got the brunt of it because he was the only boy and kinda stuck out. He made an easier target.
And for another thing, he didn't stand up for himself the way the others did.
You weren't going to make Lynn or Luna do something they didn't want to do. You could bribe them or shame them, but you couldn't just snatch Lynn by her ponytail and say we're gonna watch Lord of the Rings. She would kick your ass or, more likely, straight up say no and then walk away without a single fuck given. He wasn't like that. He did give a fuck. Perhaps too many fucks.
No, definitely too many fucks. Looking back at it now, he couldn't understand why he had been that way, but the fact of the matter was, he had been that way. It was what it was.
A few months back, though, he randomly developed self-awareness like Skynet going online, and he was shocked at what a little punk he was. He decided to not be that way and became an asshole instead. Hey, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right? He modeled his own behavior on his sisters' and began to assert himself as they did. He took it a little too far but he couldn't beat himself up too much. Anyone trying something new is likely to overdo it. Think of the kids who just got their licence. They tend to drive by the book: Back straight, hands at ten and two, and eyes fixed to the road. By the time they're fifty, they have a beer in one hand, a cell phone in the other, and their dick on the wheel.
The catalyst for his change, Lincoln supposed, was the advent of puberty. Maybe blaming the big P was cliche, but, you know, it's true. What is puberty but the flooding of the body with hormones? And what do hormones do? They affect your mood. It's like steroids. People who inject them are typically aggressive because your hormones control your mood. It's the same for adults but really bad for teenagers. Isn't it a cultural meme that teenagers become moody, sullen, and overly dramatic? Well, there you go. That happened to Lincoln and he changed up his personality. It was a conscious decision based on an influx of hormones that made him less inclined to be kicked around by his sisters like a dog. He adopted a harder edge and let it be known that there was a new Lincoln in town.
This led to friction between him and his sisters. At first, he dreaded the prospect of bad lingering animosity. He was a peaceful kind of guy and he wanted his home to be his sanctuary. That, he thought, was what inspired him to be a meek little mouse with his sisters. It wasn't that he was afraid of being beaten up by them or anything, he just wanted to keep the peace. He and one or more of his sisters were often at odds and he hated it because he couldn't relax when a state of war existed. It made him edgy and anxious and he just couldn't be at ease. He would rather appease his sisters' demands than to suffer under the crushing weight of resentment.
As time wore on, he began to care less and less about this and that, he reckoned, was the last barrier holding him back, His sisters didn't like his attitude and tried to knock him down a few pegs by engineering a backyard wrestling match between him and Lori with the expectation that she would humiliate him in front of the whole town. Kind of sick and extra if you asked him, but whatever, that was just the way of the Loud girl. What they absolutely didn't count on was him totally trouncing Lori and embarrassing her in front of the entire town. As he was wont to do, he got carried away and instead of just beating her, he broke her arm.
That was not something that Lincoln was proud of. In fact, it served as a real wake up call. He realized then and there, as his eldest sister was being carted off on a stretcher by Royal Woods' finest, that he didn't want to be an asshole. He didn't want to be a pathetic pushover either, but he didn't want to be a jerk. Call him what you want but that just wasn't his style. Deep down, he was still a peace loving guy.
However, he had to admit, he did like being able to stand up for himself and confidently say no. Also, after his wrestling match with Lori, he fully realized the value of being able to physically defend yourself. He would be a liar if he said that he didn't feel an adrenaline rush from engaging in combat. It was more of a delayed reaction that he didn't realize until afterward, the way some people don't realize how great a movie or TV show was until they've had time to digest it. Though he was appalled at what he had done to Lori and was deeply ashamed of it, he wanted to explore fighting and self-defense further.
The logical place to go was to Lynn, his sporty, slightly older sister. She played sports, worked out, and had a six pack at thirteen. She was resistant at first; when he came to her, she crossed her arms and glared at him from beneath a stooped brow. You broke Lori's arm.
I didn't mean to, he swore, it was an accident. I just...got too competitive, that's all.
That was not entirely the truth, but Lincoln wanted to appeal to her nature. She was the most competitive human being on the face of the earth, surely she would understand getting lost in the throes of competition.
His gamble paid off because she did. Alright, she relented, I'll give you a few pointers, but that's it.
The very first thing she taught him was how to assume a proper fighters' stance, the kind used by boxers in the ring. You stand with your feet slightly apart, your knees slightly bent, and you hands up to protect your face from attack. Her philosophy was to stay on top of your opponent and not give him the chance to land any powerful blows. She told him that you're supposed to lean into their punches to rob them of force.
They sparred a little and Lynn demolished him. She didn't throw any punches, she just slapped, which Lincoln thought hurt even more. His face was red and stinging when they were done, but the smug look on Lynn's face made him want to try again and triumph. He pestered her for three days to keep up the training and she finally caved. Alright, fine, she said, I'll do it, but you have to do exactly what I say when I say it, okay?
Lincoln readily agreed. Whatever it took to get her to help him.
Over the course of three months, Lynn worked with him every day on everything from weight training to cardio. After school, they would meet in the backyard and stay there until long after twilight, Lincoln doing push-ups and Lynn barking orders like a Marine Corps drill instructor. She set up obstacle courses - ropes, tires, the whole nine yards - and made him run them again and again. He would get ot the end only for her to say You stumbled, do it over again. When he had mastered the basics, they moved onto combat sports. She taught him how to wrestle, box, kickbox, and do kung-fu. He started gaining muscle and picked up a little swag because his confidence was through the roof. He was now certain, even before his training had ended, that he could face any foe. Before, when he was a little baby weakling, he had to worry about getting beaten up by bigger boys, but not anymore. Getting his butt kicked by a larger male wasn't something he lived in fear of...or something that had ever even happened...but he carried with him the shameful knowledge that he probably wouldn't be able to defend himself in a fight. Feeling like you could take anybody, no matter their size or their skill level, was extremely liberating and that alone made Lincoln glad that he had decided to do this.
Another reason was this: Being fit was awesome. He had never been a particularly active kid; he preferred reading and video games to exerting himself and thought sweating and being sore was dumb. Like, seriously, who thinks its fun to run around trying to catch a ball? Once he started his workout regime with Lynn, he quickly saw the appeal. Being active releases endorphins in the brain and being winded and pleasantly tired after a long run was a transcendental experience. Now he enjoyed working out, and that made his afternoons with Lynn much, much easier.
The day they started, Lynn treated it like a chore. She acted like teaching him was a burden and like she'd rather be doing something else. She quickly warmed up to it, though, and began getting into her role as mentor. They began to spend more time together and Lincoln willingly offered to play ball with her, which choked her up. I never thought I'd see the day, she said, eyes welling with tears of joy. She proceeded to bring her "A game" and stomped the everloving crap out of him, but it was aokay because he actually had fun. For the first time, he had fun getting his ass kicked by Lynn.
What a change, huh? Lincoln chalked it up to this: He had lived his entire life as a victim, basically at the mercy of everyone else around him. His sisters were stronger than him, Ronnie Anne was stronger than him - he was a real shrimp and even though he was never abused or anything, he was acutely aware of being vulnerable. After building up some muscle and learning how to fight, however, he wasn't vulnerable anymore. He could hold his own in almost any situation and that was a massive load off his shoulders. He didn't expect to get into a bunch of fights or anything but it was nice knowing that if he did, he could put up some kind of defense.
One Saturday morning in April, Lincoln rolled out of bed in only his underwear, stretched, and gave voice to a big, bear like yawn. Warm spring sunshine filled the room and the happy trill of birds serenaded the new day. Lincoln got uo, scratched his butt, and went our into the hall. During the week, he got up at 5am with Lynn for a morning jog around the neighborhood, so he had trouble sleeping in on the weekends; it was barely 6:30 and the house was silent, the bathroom empty. Lynn was somehow able to go into weekend mode on Friday night and not wake up until seven or eight. Lincoln didn't know how, but maybe it was just him. Once he got into a habit, it was almost impossible to break.
In the bathroom, he snapped the light on and looked at himself in the mirror. His abs and chest were both sharply defined and his arms were more cut than a slasher movie victim. He flexed and his stomach tightened; he smiled and nodded at himself appreciatively. That's right, I'm a Roman god. Keep your hands off, ladies.
Pulling down his underwear, he hopped in the shower, turned the water on, and took a long, hot shoiwer. He and Clyde were going to meet up at the park later for a little exercise. Clyde had been watching Lincoln's slow transformation into a muscle man and wanted in. Lincoln figured he'd eventually ask Lynn to tutor Clyde the way she had him, but for right now, Lincoln wanted to try his hand at playing mentor. Though she hadn't said so in as many words, Lynn had a lot of fun passing her knowledge onto Lincoln and Lincoln thought it would be fun to pass his knowledge onto Clyde. There was a certain amount of pride involved, Lincoln thought. Watching your hard work slowly pay off is a rewarding feeling. Imagine building a house; it takes shape little by little, day by day, until it's finished. That's what he figured it must be like to watch your pupil gradually develop from a wimpy-wimp into a genetic freak with Anchor Arms.
Lincoln wasn't a genetic freak but he was noticeably buffer so…
Anyway, Lincoln cut the shower, toweled off, and jumped out. He wrapped the towel around his waist, brushed his teeth, flossed, and gargled with mouthwash. He spat into the basin and washed his face off. His newfound aggressiveness wasn't the only gift his overactive hormones had given him; they also gave him zits. If he didn't keep his face clean and dry, he'd break out like war in the Middle East (Get it? Because wars happen all the time over there? Nevermind. Luan would love it). Normal part of growing up, he supposed, nothing to get excited about either way. Another normal part of growing up was body odor. When he was younger, he could walk around without bathing for days and smell decent. These days, he needed to apply deodorant to his armpits at least twice a day or he would start to stink,
One thing Lincoln hadn't experienced was an increased sex drive. He heard that boys his age were raving sex fiends who couldn't get naked women off of their minds. Thankfully, that symptom had skipped him (at least for now). Maybe it's because those boys didn't put their testosterone to work for them. They just sat there and let themselves soak in it. Lincoln used it to fuel his workouts. Kind of hard to be a horny toad when you just ran fifty miles and can't feel anything below your neck.
Done with his oral hygiene routine, Lincoln cut the light and went out into the hall just as Lori's door opened. Lori appeared in a pair of shorts and a tank top; her hair stuck out in places and her eyelids visibly fought to close. She smacked her lips, scratched her butt, and looked at Lincoln. For some reason, he was reminded of cavemen he'd seen on TV and he half way expected her to sniff her finger than dance around him with an epic, primal ooo ooo ahh ahh. She blinked her eyes as if to clear her vision, and then rubbed them with her fist. "Jesus, Linc," she said.
"What?" Lincoln asked, confused.
"You have abs," she said.
He didn't know what to say to that. As far as he knew, she had seen him without a shirt recently. Maybe she simply didn't notice. He couldn't blame her for not studying every dip and ridge of her little brother's chest; he didn't make it a point to look at her butt and didn't know whether it was a nice butt or a pancake butt. It'd be kind of weird if he did know.
"I've had these," he said.
Lori shook her head. "I guess. I dunno,. You literally look like a pro wrestler."
That comment made Lincoln smile, and he was still smiling hours later when he left the house to meet up with Clyde.
Leni Loud had worked at Always19 in the Royal Woods Mall for almost a whole year, and in all that time, she had never met a situation she couldn't handle. She could run the register, fold, answer any customer's any question, and keep her cool even when on Black Friday.
But then, on a sunny Saturday morning, she got to work to find the manager slumped dead in the office, her head bashed in from behind.
Getting there around seven, Leni used her super special key to open the gate thingie and let herself in. She went to the register, stowed her purse under the counter, and went into the office. That's when she found Deborah lying in a pool of her own blood. Leni did a double take, and when she realized what she was looking at, her mind blanked and she let out a high pitched scream. Dana, her bestie and coworker, was suddenly there, her purse still slung over her shoulder; she must have just been walking through the door when Leni screamed.
Dana saw the body and covered her mouth with her hand, her brown eyes straining from their sockets.
Strain rhymed with drain, and that's how Leni felt by the end of the morning, drained. She sat in the office and hugged herself while a detective asked her and Dana questions. Twice during the proceedings, her phone chimed. When the detective went off to talk to a cop, she checked it.
Chaz.
Chaz had been her boyfriend for six months. He was big and not what a lot of people considered attractive, but he was sweet, cuddly like a teddy bear, and made Leni feel safe and protected. If she had any complaint, it was that he could be a little clingy at times.
Something totes terrible happened, she texted.
What?
She barely had time to start texting before he called her. She answered. "What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.
"It's Debroah," she said. "She's dead."
As quickly as she could before the detective returned, she told him what had happened, and his end of the line went silent. "Oh my God," he said.
She saw the detective coming and covered her mouth with her hand to hide the fact that she was talking on her phone so that he didn't get mad at her. "I have to go." She hit the END button and shoved her phone into her pocket just as the detective walked up.
"Ms. Loud, what time did you say you got here?"
Leni thought for a moment, trying to remember the exact time but failing. "About seven," she said.
The detective jotted her answer down. "Ms. Hollbrook?"
Dana, pale and shaken, shook her head. "A-About the same time."
The detective nodded. "Alright. I might want to talk to you girls again sometime." He took a couple business cards from his pocket and handed one to each of them. "Call me if you need anything."
Not knowing what to do, Leni and Dana both left. It was past 9am and a crowd of onlookers had formed around the front of the store, drawn by the cops, paramedics, and yellow crime scene tape. A few feet away, people shopped and walked around like normal, and Leni found herself wondering how they could be going about their normal lives while Debroah was dead. It struck her as both strange and unsettling that the whole mall wasn't shutting down. Someone was killed - a really nice someone who treated Leni almost like a niece - and no one cared.
It wasn't fair.
Leni and Dana sat on a bench near a fountain, Dana hugging herself and bending deeply at the waist and Leni staring into space. Dana echoed what Leni was thinking when she said, "I can't believe she's gone."
"Neither can I," Leni said and blinked back tears. Deborah was a sweet woman and one of the few older people Leni counted as a friend. She had been trying for almost two hours to wrap her head around what had happened but couldn't. It didn't seem real, like it was a bad dream that she was going to wake up from at any minute. This kind of thing happened to other people, not to her. "What do we do?"
"What can we do?" Dana asked.
The detective said it looked like Deborah had stayed late the night before and was attacked from behind. There was no money missing from the register and nothing was missing from the store, which confused Leni. Like, if the killer wasn't trying to steal stuff, what did they want? Someone wouldn't just walk in and kill Deborah for no reason.
Would they?
"I just don't know why," Leni said.
Dana shook her head. "If they didn't steal anything…" she trailed off. "I don't know either."
Leni's phone rang and she answered it. "Hello?"
"Hey," Chaz said, "how are you?"
"Bad," Leni said.
"I'm sorry," Chaz said. "Look...I got off work early. You wanna go see a movie or something?"
Leni loved spending time with Chaz...but not today. "No," she said. "Me and Dana are being miserable together."
For a moment, Chaz didn't say anything, and even Leni, not the best with inferring things, could sense his disappointment. "I'm sorry," she said.
"No, it's fine," Chaz said, "I get it. Can I call you later?"
Leni smiled. "Sure."
She hung up and put her phone away. Part of her regretted turning him down, but she and Dana both loved Deborah and had both had a traumatic morning; they needed each other right now. "What if whoever killed her didn't want money?" Dana asked.
"What could he want?" Leni asked. She wasn't aware of gendering the killer. It just came natural. Surely a woman didn't do it.
Dana was quiet a moment. "Maybe he's a sex maniac who gets off on killing people."
A shiver dropped down Leni's spine. "You don't really think that, do you?" she asked.
"I don't know," Dana said, "there had to be some reason, though."
That was true. Leni tried to think of a reason someone might have to hurt Deborah, but she couldn't come up with anything. Deborah was widowed, didn't have any living relatives aside from a few distant cousins she hardly knew, and didn't get out much. She told Leni matter of factly on multiple occasions that she was a homebody who never went anywhere or did anything, so it's not like she had a chance to meet people and make enemies.
But Leni didn't know that for sure. She saw Deborah at work and that was it. She could, like, be a super secret spy on her off hours and Leni would be none the wiser. Sometimes, looks can be totes deceiving. Still, she had worked with Deborah for, like, ever and knew what kind of person she was. She couldn't imagine anyone wanting to hurt her.
She said so, and Dana nodded. "So it was random. There are only two reasons someone would randomly kill her. They wanted to steal something...or they're a psycho."
A fist of dread clenched in Leni's stomach. "You think?" she asked uneasily.
"It's possible," Dana said, "what else could it be?"
Leni didn't know, and that made it all the scarier. It was like finding a spider in your room. It's bad when you can see it...but even worse when it runs away and you can't find it. It could be anywhere...even in your hair.
She shuddered.
Even though neither one of them was hungry, they moved onto the food court and talked over Pepsis. Dana was determined to solve the case of who killed Deborah and Leni was all in. They went around the mall asking all the employees of the shops near Always19 if they had seen anything suspicious the night before.
None of them had.
Next, they went to the security office, which was located down a long hallway. The guard on duty was an old man named Jed who was one of the sweetest people Leni had ever met. He was the kind of guy who would do anything for you and help anybody. "Can we see the tapes from last night?" Dana asked.
"Sorry," Jed said, "the cops took them."
Sugar honey ice tea.
That put them back to square one. "We can, like, go to her house and look for clues," Leni suggested. They were sitting on a bench outside now, the overhang above their heads blocking out most of the sun's light. One of those yucky standing ashtrays flanked Leni on the left and she wrinkled her nose at its icktastic stench.
"I doubt it," Dana said. "The cops have probably already been there. If we show up, we'll look suspicious."
"But we didn't kill Deborah," Leni pointed out.
Dana nodded. "Yeah, I know that,. You know that. They don't. For all they know, we killed her over some dumb argument then tried to act like it was a random killer."
Hmmm, Leni hadn't thought of that. The policemen wouldn't really think that, would they?
"Do you remember anyone weird coming in?" Dana asked. "Like a creeper or anything?"
Leni tapped her index finger to her chin. A memory struck her like a sharp slap to the face and her eyes widened. "I remember something."
An hour later, they stood in the front yard of Mr. Grouse's house. The old man leaned heavily on his cane and regarded them with suspicion, his furry brows heavily stooped. Two days ago, he came into Always19 looking for "Ladies undergarments". They didn't have the size he wanted and he became irate, yelling at Deborah and calling her a bunch of mean names before hobbling off. He had to be the killer. He was the only person Leni could think of. "Listen, Loud Gril and Loud Girl's Friend, I didn't kill your boss. I'm too damn old to old throw away what's left of my life on a store manager."
"Why did you want women's underwear?" Dana asked.
"Because I wear it," he said bluntly.
She and Leni both looked at him. "I cross-dress sometimes," he said. "Always have, always will. I'm not a homosexual, I just like dressing like a woman."
Uh...okay then. Leni wasn't weirded out by the idea of a man dressing like a woman, but she was weirded out by the idea of Mr. Grouse doing it. He was a gruff and salty old thing; the last person on earth Leni would expect to wear frilly things in secret.
"Now what?" Leni asked as they walked away.
Dana sighed. "I don't know," she admitted.
At the end of the day, after trying to come up with a battle plan, Dana and Leni parted ways. Chaz had texted Leni ten times during the afternoon, and it got a little annoying. When she and Dana left one another, Dana told her that tomorrow they should go to the police station. "We'll talk to the detective and see what we can do."
Leni walked home and called Chaz on the way. He sounded like an excited puppy dog and it made her smile. "Can you hang out tomorrow?" he asked. "You're off work, right?"
"Yeah," Leni said, "I am but me and Dana have to find out who did this."
Chaz sighed. "Okay," he said grudgingly.
"I promise we'll hang out soon."
Meanwhile, Dana walked the six blocks to her house, stopping at the grocery store on the way. By the time she got home, it was past dusk and the house was dark. Her mom was on a business trip and her father had gone out for a pack of cigarettes ten years ago and never came back, so she was alone.
Inside, she got undressed and took a shower, washing off the grime of the day and letting the warm water relax her tense muscles. Downstairs, the basement door swung open and a dark figure crept out, one shiny black boot clicking on the linoleum. A black gloved hand reached into a black coat and pulled something out.
A hammer.
Done in the shower, Dana wrapped the towel around herself and went into the bedroom, where she pulled on a pair of lounge pants and a T-shirt. A stair tread creaked and her heart jumped into her throat. She turned to the door and watched.
A shadow appeared and her stomach clutched.
Something darted around the corner and she almost screamed.
It was just her cat, Mittens.
Dana let out a nervous laugh and bent to pick him up. "You scared -"
Without warning, a black shape rushed her and she lifted her head just in time for the hammer to crash into the bridge of her nose. Stars burst across her field of vision and she fell out of the chair, her skull swelling with pain and a shocked gasp escaping her throat. She landed on the floor and the killer was suddenly on top of her, the hammer rising and falling. The first blow caught her in the temple and the second smashed out her teeth. Blood filled her mouth and her mind began to go dark. She caught a glimpse of the killer's face, and her eyes widened in shock.
Then the hammer came down again and she passed out.
All of this had happened in less than a minute. She lay limp on the floor with her arms out on either side of her and her head tilted to one side. The killer pounded her skull again and again, blood soaking into the carpet and splattering the walls like sprays of red paint. Winded and sweating, the killer stopped and felt for a pulse.
There was none.
Dana was dead.
The killer stared down at her with loathing, then got up and grabbed her phone from the desk. Swiping through her recent texts, the killer saw the name LENI and then, below that. MOM. Opening the conversation with Leni, the killer texted, my mom got in an accident so my uncle and I are flying out to see her. I won't be around for a few days. The killer hit send, then slipped the phone into one of the coat's big pockets.
Later that night, Dana's mother texted, and the killer pretended to be Dana to allay suspicions. I should be back at the end of next week, Dana's mom said.
Good, the killer thought.
That left plenty of time…
The next day, Lincoln and Lynn started the day with a pre-dawn jog around Royal Woods. The grass was damp with morning dew and there was a certain preternatural stillness to the world that you could only find in the hour or so before sunrise. Before getting active, Lincoln never liked getting up early but now he loved it and would rather cut his nights short than start his days late.
As they jogged, he and Lynn talked. Spending so much time together, they had gotten closer and they often shared their problems, hopes, and aspirations. Lincoln learned a lot about his sister, such as the fact that she wanted to try gymnastics but thought it was "kinda gay." That struck him as odd because Lynn wasn't the kind of person who seemed to care what others thought of her, but he discovered that she was actually kind of insecure. It made sense, he figured. No one brags and boasts as much as she does without being at least a little insecure. Her problem was, in his opinion, that she demanded too much of herself. She wanted to be 100 percent perfect all around, and no one - no one - can pull that off. Everyone has their weak points and everyone is...well...human. She didn't accept that, though. She pushed herself to utter greatness and when she inevitably stumbled along the way, she beat herself up about it.
They got back home at sun up and had a breakfast of granola bars and orange juice, finishing just as the others came downstairs. They retired to the backyard where they went through their morning routine, which involved push ups, sit ups, and cartwheels.
Cartwheels were a new addition to the ritual that Lynn insisted on when she discovered that she couldn't do one. To her, pulling off the perfect cartwheel some come as natural to her as drinking does to an Irishman, but she just couldn't do it. Every time she tried, she was shaky and wobbled. Lincoln wasn't very good at them either and doing too many in a row made him dizzy, but he didn't say so out loud. Part of being strong was not bellyaching about every little thing like a baby.
They had been at it for nearly an hour when the back door opened and Lori came out. She sat on the back step and watched them for a while, her lips scrunched to one side. Finally, she got up and walked over. "You know, Linc," Lori said, "I kind of want a rematch."
That comment caught Lincoln off guard and it took him almost a full minute to compute it. "Rematch?"
"Yeah," she said. "You did embarrass me in front of the whole town, and watching you work with Lynn has given me an idea." She turned to Lynn. "Train me. Just like you have him."
"You sure about that, Lori?" Lynn asked. "He's better than he was back then."
Lori nodded. "I did a little training with Bobby so I'm kind of better too."
Lincoln absolutely did not want to have another wrestling match with Lori - he broke her wrist in the last one - but she was insistant and Lynn was excited to train Lori and then see which of her pupils came out on top. Even though Lincoln thought it was a bad idea, he went along with it.
He just hoped no one got hurt this time.
Almost a week passed and the urgency of finding Deborah's killer waned for Leni. That aspect of her life was on hold until Dana got back anyway, which would be soon. She texted a little with Dana during the week and Dana promised that she would be back soon. Until then, Leni had a store to operate. The day after Deborah's death, corporate sent a new manager, a gay black man named George, and life returned to a semblance of normalcy. She worked the day shift at Always19 and went home in the evening to work on her own designs. It wasn't an exciting life but it was hers and she loved it. Deborah's death, and the fact that her killer hadn't been caught, hung over it like a dark shadow, however, and she couldn't relax or feel entirely at ease. It was always there, lurking on the fringes of her mind.
On Thursday morning, she came into work like normal and went about opening the store. George was supposed to be in at 7:30 but he didn't show. He was probably just running late, she told herself. When he still hadn't come in by nine, she started to get worried. She texted him but he didn't answer. At ten, she called corporate, who told her to handle it by herself or close down. With Dana gone, there was only her and one other girl, but Leni decided they could manage so she kept the store open. Chaz texted her a thousand times that day asking to see her and she finally had to turn her phone off.
At the end of the day, she closed down early and went home exhausted. "Work is, like, killing me," she told Chaz on the phone.
"Are they going to send a new manager?" he asked.
"I hope so," Leni said.
The next morning, she went to work and when she got there, the mall was crawling with cops and firefighters. Someone had firebombed Always19; the sprinklers had put out the blaze but a lot of the inventory was ruined and the store itself was so damaged from both fire and water that it couldn't open. Chaz texted as Leni walked away. "Can we hang out today?"
Leni sighed. Why not?
They met at Flip's and spent the day together, first drinking Flippez, then eating lunch and playing games at Gus's. Leni tried her best to have fun but she couldn't let herself relax. "I know all of this stuff is connected," she told Chaz as he walked her home that evening. "I just don't know how. It's like someone hates Always19."
Chaz nodded. "It sounds that way. I mean, I see people hating on it online but this is ridiculous."
At her house, they went up to her room. He sat on the edge of her bed and she sat at her vanity. She wasn't allowed to have boys up here but he really wanted to spend some time with her and she needed to lose herself in a project. She turned on her sewing machine and started working on a dress while Chaz texted someone on his phone. "I wish you'd quit," he said. "That job's too dangerous."
"But I love that job," Leni said.
"I know," Chaz said, "but first your boss gets killed, your new boss disappears, someone bombs it...I'm worried about you."
Leni sighed. "I know."
She loved her job but maybe he was right about it being too dangerous now. "I'll think about it," she said.
Chaz smiled. He sat his phone aside and got up. "I gotta hit the bathroom."
"Okay."
He left the room and for a while, Leni was alone. Chaz's phone chimed once, twice, three times, each one breaking Leni's concentration. Finally, she got up and went over to turn it off. She picked it up and swiped the screen with her thumb.
The wallpaper was of her and Dana with their arms around each other. Huh, Leni thought, that's weird, Dana's phone had the same wallpaper.
Just then, a text appeared on the screen.
From Mom.
Dana, why won't you answer when I call? I'm worried.
Leni's brows furrowed.
This was Dana's phone. What was Chaz doing -
All of a sudden, she had a very bad feeling. She turned around and let out a frightened yelp. Chaz stood in the doorway, his features dark. "Why do you have Dana's phone?" Leni asked.
"You weren't supposed to find out," he said darkly.
Leni gulped. "Find out what?"
Chaz took a step forward. "I did it for us," he said. "That stupid job and your stupid "bestie" kept taking you away from me. But now...now we have all the time in the world."
Deep in Leni's brain, two sparky things met and created a blinding flash of revelation.
It was him, Chaz was the killer.
He came for her and she let out a throat-tearing scream. Before he could reach her, Lincoln was on top of him, pummelling him with his fists. He shoved Chaz into the wall and Lori appeared from nowhere, kicking him in the nuts and punching him in the nose. He crashed to the ground with a thud that shook the whole house, and they rained kicks down on him while Leni hugged herself and cried.
When the police arrived, Chaz was so bloody and bruised that they wanted to take Lincoln and Lori to jail until they realized the bad guy was Chaz. Later on, curled up in bed, Leni struggled to sleep but dreamed of Chaz breaking out and coming after her.
That was a dream she would have for many years to come.
Once again, Lincoln and Lori met in the middle of a ring in the backyard, this time on friendlier terms. Also, there was no audience this go around. That was Lincoln's one hard and fast requirement; his reasoning was that the presence of a crowd would make both of them bloodthirsty. Neither wanted to lose or to be embarrassed and would fight tooth and nail to avoid doing so in front of a live audience, Only family and friends were around to watch.
Lori had trained with Lynn for weeks and it showed: Her arms and legs were toned and her stomach was ripped. They faced each other in the middle of the squared circle and locked up when Lynn rang the bell. Lincoln was surprised at how powerful and solid Lori felt compared to the last time they did this. He was caught off guard and she flung him into the ropes. She charged at him and he moved out of the way at the last second. She hit the ropes and he spun her around, hitting her with a back handed chop across the chest. She threw her head back and yelled out. He went to do it again, but she brought up her knee and caught him in the stomach, knocking the air from his lungs. Before he could recover, she grabbed him in a headlock and kicked his feet out from under him. She fell backwards and his face smashed into the mat. Stars burst across his field of vision and he moaned in the back of his throat.
Rolling onto his back, he got to his feet just in time to catch a sharp jab to the temple. Lori threw another, and then another, right, left, right left. He fell back against the ropes again, dazed, and lashed out with his foot, kicking her in the stomach. She doubled over, and coming alive, he grabbed the back of her head and rammed his knee into her face. Her nose crunched and Lincoln's heart dropped.
Oh no. He went too far again.
Lori lifted her head, blood gushing from her nose. She didn't seem to notice or to even feel it; she hit him with another right and then followed up with another left. The second blow hit him in the mouth and his bottom lip split down the middle. The hot, coppery taste of blood filled his mouth and he sank to his ass. Lori wedged her foot into his throat and pushed him back against the bottom rope. His oxygen supply cut off and he started to strangle. Lynn jumped into the ring and waved Lori back. Lori let go and Lincoln gasped for breath.
Getting woozily to his feet, Lincoln got his bearings. When Lori tried to grab him, he got behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and hit her with a suplex that left her lying face down on the mat. Blood oozed from Lincoln's lip and let little red droplets on the mat, mixing with the slick puddles Lori had already left behind. He got up, ran into the ropes, and then ran back. He went for an elbow drop but she moved and he came down on the mat full force. Searing red agony shot up his arm and he screamed. Lori pushed up to her hands and knees and covered him, but he kicked her off. He got to his feet, made sure his arm wasn't broken, and kicked Lori in the legs. She grabbed his ankle and upset his balance, and he fell back to the mat. She spun around and kicked him, knocking him half unconscious.
While he was counting the birds flying around his head, Lori rolled out of the ring, grabbed a metal trash can from underneath, and got back in. Lincoln was on his hands and knees now, panting for air. He didn't hear her coming up behind him, wasn't aware that she was standing with the can held over her head. He got up and turned around; she brought the can down on the top of his skull and the world went dark. He sank to his knees and then flopped on his side. Lori hooked his leg and covered him, and Lynn slid in under the bottom rope to count.
One.
Two.
Lincoln kicked out and shoved her off. He got to his feet, grabbed her by the back of her hair, and pulled her to her feet. She rammed her elbow into his stomach but he saw it coming and sucked in his gut, robbing the blow of momentum. She managed to break away and but he swept her feet out from under her. She got back up and came at him, and he lowered his head, hitting her with a flurry of side shots.
Finally, she fell against the ropes and launched herself at him. He picked her up and slammed her to the mat, then wrenched her arm back. She thrashed and tried to break free but wound up tapping out instead.
Everyone cheered and Lincoln jumped up to celebrate. Lori came around and he helped her to her feet, then pulled her into a big hug. She hugged him back and held his hand up. Both of them were bleeding and covered in cuts and scratches, but neither one cared. Lori had lost but that didn't matter. In life, you win some and you lose some. The most important thing is how you play the game. The only regret she had was that she didn't hit him with the trash can harder.
But hey...
...maybe next time.