Chapter Seven: A Devastating Discovery
Around midnight, Clara awoke with a shooting pain. She sat up in bed, wrapping an arm around the middle of her stomach. It felt like something was being ripped from her. Jumping out of bed, she hurried to the bedroom across the hall. Before she could open the door, the pain went away.
Taking a deep, reassuring breath, she pulled her hand off the doorknob and went back into her room. Her Walkman was on the ground, having fallen off the bed with all her tossing and turning. She picked it up, placing it on her bedside table.
Sleep evaded her for the rest of the night.
When the sun began to rise, peeking through her window, Clara left her bedroom again. She went to the kitchen where her father was sipping on his morning coffee.
"Morning, dad," she greeted. He merely grunted, half asleep still.
Pouring herself a cup of coffee, she took it back to the bedroom to change. Rummaging through the closet, she grabbed a white blouse and a pair of blue jeans. She held it up in the mirror, holding it against her body. Her mother's words replayed through her mind. She forced herself to think of anything else.
As she finished curling her hair, a knock came at the door. She heard it open and then heard the sound of sobbing. Leaving her room with her coffee, Clara went to the living room where her parents were listening to two officers speaking.
When the officers saw Clara, they paused.
"Clara Cunningham?" Officer Callahan asked. Clara nodded, brows furling.
"What's going on?" Chief Powell pulled his hat off his head.
"Miss Cunningham… Chrissy has been found... dead."
The world started spinning, her knees begging to give out, but Clara refused to collapse.
"That can't be," Clara disagreed.
"She's friends with the boy," Mr. Cunningham said gruffly.
"What boy?" Clara asked. Callahan pulled out his notepad and clicked open a pen.
"What do you know about Eddie Munson?"
"Why? What does anything of this have to do with— You think he killed her? He would never."
She sat down on the sofa as her mother wiped at her eyes.
"Just tell them, Clara. Be a good girl." Clara stuck up her chin.
"Munson wouldn't kill anyone. He's a terrible guy, but he's too much of a coward."
Hearing herself speak those words aloud made Clara feel like she was betraying him. He wasn't an awful and she had no proof that he was a coward. She just didn't want the officers to think that it was Eddie's fault. There was no way that could happen.
Chief Powell stopped Callahan from asking more questions.
"But if it was Eddie, Clara, wouldn't you feel better if he was in custody."
"For something he didn't do?"
"Chrissy was found in his trailer!" Mrs. Cunningham sobbed. "He killed her, Clara! Now, tell them what you know."
"He is innocent until proven guilty," Clara muttered.
"He ran, doesn't seem very innocent to me," Callahan said.
"Like I said, he's a coward."
"Okay," Powell said, holding up his hands in defense. "We won't ask questions about Eddie. Do you know why Chrissy went with him after the game last night?"
"No, I didn't stay. Erica Sinclair needed a ride, and I gave her one then came home. I thought Jason was bringing Chrissy home and when she didn't come last night, I assumed she was staying with him."
Lies. Had this happened years ago, she couldn't have been able to lie to save her life, but after holding government secrets for so long, it didn't bother her as much anymore.
"Jason…?"
"Jason Carter, her boyfriend." Callahan jotted the name onto his notepad.
"Had Chrissy been acting strange?"
"Strange… in what way?"
"Doing things, she wouldn't normally do, going places unlike her…"
"No."
Chrissy was acting normal until the nightmares started a few months ago. Then she was sneaking out, spending more time with Jason, buying drugs from who knows who. They were stashed in the false drawer in Chrissy's closet.
There were no more questions from Powell, but Chrissy knew that Callahan had one and she turned in his direction. She looked at him quizzically and he crossed his arms.
"What I don't understand, Miss Cunningham, is why you won't tell us about Eddie Munson. Are you trying to protect him? Have you slept with him?"
She scoffed; the sound unfamiliar to herself. Her mother gasped, Powell elbowing his officer.
"Do you want to sleep with him?" Callahan corrected himself. She bit back a crude remark, merely shaking her head. She didn't trust herself to say anything. "What about pursue a relationship?"
Her eyes closed as she tried to take a calming breath. When she opened her eyes, she found all four adults looking expectantly at her. She wished her father would at least speak up for her. That he would tell Callahan that his questions were out of line. Her mother would never do so, Mrs. Cunningham feared the same as the officers. The best course of action would be to deny the question.
"I don't pursue relationships with boys like Munson."
"Boys like Eddie?" Her eyes dipped to the ground for a moment before meeting his.
"Freaks."
The word was foreign on her tongue, and she hated that she actually called Eddie that word. She had always stuck up for them and now…
The moment the officers left the house, she collapsed onto the sofa. She felt tears started to slide down her cheeks and she tried to wipe them away. Chrissy dying. That's what she had felt last night. Her left side had been ripped away and destroyed. She sat in the living room as her parents hurried into the kitchen to start making funeral plans and call relatives. They didn't bother to check on their other daughter.
Once more, Mr. and Mrs. Cunningham had decided that Clara was nothing. She was invisible once more. Their favorite twin was gone, and they wouldn't notice if Clara left. In fact, she counted on it as she slipped out of the house.
Pulling her skateboard from out of the garage, Clara rode it to main street, stopping outside Family Video. She could see Steve and Robin inside, listening to the radio. Probably the news talking about Chrissy's death.
The bell above the door rang as Clara ran through the door of Family Video. She caught sight of Steve and Robin watching a news report and Beverly Moss was signing off. The ringing of the bell alerted Steve and Robin to Clara's presence. She ran behind the counter and threw herself into Robin's arms while Steve stared at her in confusion.
"What's wrong?" he asked, examining her closely.
"She's dead," she whispered, tears falling down her face. "She's dead."
"You know who got killed? Who?" Robin asked gently, rubbing Clara's back.
Before Steve could say anything, Max and Dustin burst into the store.
"Hey! Steve!" Dustin called. Clara pulled away from Robin, wiping at her eyes as the younger two bounded to the counter.
"You see this?" Steve asked Dustin.
"How many phones do you have?" Dustin asked.
"Someone was murdered," Steve continued.
"How many phones to you have?"
"Two. Why?"
"Technically three if you count Keith's in the back."
"Yeah, three works," Max told Dustin.
"What are you doing?" Steve asked.
Clara yelped, jumping out of the way as Dustin pushed his bag across the counter and onto the floor on the other side. He slid over the counter and in doing so, he knocked over piles of films and tapes.
"What are you doing?" Clara asked.
"Setting up base of operations here," he answered, settling at the computer.
"Base of operations?" Robin echoed as Steve scolded the kid.
"Get off that!"
"I need it."
"For what?"
"Looking up Eddie's friends phone numbers."
"Oh, Eddie," Steve snapped half-heartedly. "Your new best friend you think is cooler because he plays your nerdy game."
"Yes!"
Realizing Steve's words, Dustin looked over at him.
"I never said that." Robin rolled her eyes as she and Clara worked to pick up the VHS tapes.
"Seriously, you guys, maybe on a Monday you can play around in here like toddlers, but it's Saturday. It's our busiest day!"
"Robin, I empathize," Dustin said as Steve rubbed at his face. "But this cannot wait."
"What? Calling Eddie's friends is an emergency?"
"Correct!" Steve leaned over to Clara, murmuring in her ear loud enough for Robin.
"Want me to strangle him or do one of you want too?"
"We could take turns," Robin shrugged. With an annoyed grunt, Dustin asked Max to fill them in.
"Fill us in on what?" Clara asked. Max couldn't meet the older girl's eyes.
A couple hours later, Max called to the group.
"Hey, guys, I might have a lead." Clara looked up from her crossed-legged position on the ground. She hadn't moved in the past two hours, staring blankly at the shelf in front of her. "Apparently, Eddie gets drugs from some guy named Reefer Rick, and sometimes, Eddie crashes there," Max said.
"Sounds promising," Robin said. "Where does this Reefer Rick live?"
"See, that's the thing," Max said. "No one knows. He's more of a… a legend than someone that people actually know."
"What about a last name?" Dustin asked.
"I don't know that either."
"Maybe the cops know the last name," Steve muttered.
Spinning around, Max stared at Steve's back as he dug through a bin of movies.
"What?"
"Cops," Steve repeated. He turned, looking at them with his arms behind his back, clenching at the metal bin. "I mean, listen, if this Reefer Rick is actually a drug dealer, I guarantee you that he's been busted at some point. Means he's in the system."
"The cops?" Clara said, getting to her feet. "Really, Steve? That's your suggestion?" He held up his hands defensively.
"I think they should be filled in on what we know, what's going on."
Tears threatened to spill as she glared at him, arms crossing over her chest. God, when had she become so defensive of Eddie?
"You think Munson's guilty, don't you?"
"Whoa, Clara," Steve said. "I believe in innocent until proven guilty, all that constitutional shit… I just, you know, don't think we can rule it out."
"That's precisely what we're trying to do here, Steve," Dustin said. "And maybe we'd have a little bit more luck if you spent less time trying to find a girlfriend and more time trying to find Eddie."
"Somebody has to attend to the customers!" Steve argued.
"Especially if they're babes, right?" Clara muttered.
"Hey, not fair. Okay? I attend to all customers equally, babes and non-babes alike. We've got a very big selection in here. It can be super overwhelming for people."
A bright look came to Robin's eyes.
"Yeah, it can be." She shoved Dustin away from the computer and started typing.
"What are you doing?" Clara asked.
"Maybe we don't need a last name," Robin said. The computer beeped and she paused. "Twelve Ricks have accounts here."
"Lot of Ricks," Max muttered.
"So, let's narrow it down."
Rubbing at her forehead, Clara ignored the ticking in the back of her mind as the group in front of her started narrowing down the list. She didn't recognize many of the movie titles except Dumbo and Annie. That Rick was definitely a family man.
"Ah! Bingo!" Robin cheered. "Rick Lipton!"
"Lipton?" Steve repeated.
"Spelled like the tea," Robin answered. "2121 Holland Road."
"That's out by Lovers Lake," Steve said.
Clara nodded, "Middle of nowhere. It's the perfect place to hide."