Masquerade of Lies (21 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO—WHAT YOU FIND OUT COULD HURT YOU

The next day I asked Josh to give me a ride to Hatersfield. He pulled into my driveway around ten o’clock in the morning to pick me up.

“Bye mom! I’ll be back soon!” I bellowed before I closed the front door shut behind me.” I raced over to Josh’s car and hopped in the front seat. I put on my seatbelt as he reversed out of the driveway and accelerated down my quiet street.

“So, what are you gonna say to Mr. Parsons when you see him?”

I tucked some hair behind my ear. “Don’t know yet. I guess I’ll figure that out when I get there.” I opened up the
Waze
app on my smartphone and pulled up the address of his café. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“No, not really.”             

“Okay, I’ll tell you where to go.” I read him the directions as he drove.

Forty-five minutes later we arrived in Hatersfield; a small quaint town with lots of trees and mom n’ pop shops. There wasn’t a mall in sight. We passed a lake where I saw a few kids swimming. The town was relaxing and welcoming. It reminded me of Deerwood. We soon arrived downtown where all the fast food places were. I spotted Parson’s Café.

“There it is,” I said pointing. Josh pulled over to the side of the road and parked in front of a small clothing store. He put the car in
park
and turned off the ignition. “Well, let’s go,” I said.

We unbuckled our seatbelts and got out of the car. When we reached the café I pulled open the door, and the smell of coffee hit me in the face. Most of the tables were occupied with teenagers. A guy in a navy blue apron was taking out the trash and a young lady in the same kind of apron was cleaning off a table. A covered glass cake stand full of vanilla and chocolate cupcakes sat on the counter. All of a sudden, I spied Mr. Parsons coming from the kitchen. I recognized him from his picture in the article. He began assisting an old lady. I nudged Josh’s arm.

“There he is.” We sauntered towards him and waited in line behind her. Butterflies swirled around in my stomach. It was our turn to be served.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“Are you Mr. Parsons?”

“Yes, I own this café.”

“You used to teach at Willowdale High right?” His face got serious.

“What’s this about?”

“Do you remember Brooke Tillier?”

“Look, nothing happened between us, but I left Willowdale and started my life over. All I want is to be left in peace.”

“We just want to ask you a couple of questions.”

“Are you a friend of hers?”

“I
was
a friend of hers.” He looked at me stunned.

“What do you mean
was
?”

“You mean you don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?” I looked at Josh then back at Mr. Parson.

“Mr. Parsons…Brooke is dead…she was murdered.”

His face was glazed with shock. “What?”

“Yeah.” I lowered my eyes. “When was the last time you saw her?”

“It’s been a while. One day, out of the blue, she contacted me to apologize for everything that had happened. I told her that it wasn’t her fault, but she still felt partly responsible. She was supposed to come down on the 24th and have dinner with me and my wife, but she never showed up. I figured she just had second thoughts.” He pressed his hands into the counter and lowered his head.

Josh took hold of my arm and gently pulled me away. “Come on, let’s go”

“Thank you for your time Mr. Parsons.” As we were leaving, a lady with shoulder length brown hair and brown eyes walked in. I looked at her neck and became breathless. She wore a thin gold chain with half of a heart pendant; it looked exactly like the one Brooke was wearing.

I scurried behind her and tapped her on the shoulder.

“Excuse me.”

She turned around to face me. “Yes?” She had thin lips and light freckles on the bridge of her nose.

“This might be a weird question, but where did you get that necklace?” She fondled the pendant between her fingers.

“My husband gave it to me.”

“Who’s your husband?”

“The owner of this café. Jack Parsons.” She twisted her body and pointed to Mr. Parson.

My heart started pounding in my chest. I caught Mr. Parsons looking right at me. “Ohmigod,” I whispered as I slowly backed away from her.

“Why are you asking?”

“I’m sorry, I gotta go.”

“What’s wrong? Wait!”

I grabbed Josh’s arm and we dashed out of the café.

“What was that about?” he asked.

“I’m so confused.”

“Why?”

“He seemed so shocked. Didn’t he seem shocked to you when I told him that Brooke was dead?”

“Yeah, he did. Why what’s up?”

“It doesn’t make sense.”

He gripped my shoulder and stopped walking. “Stop. What are you talking about?”

“His wife is wearing Brooke’s necklace. At least, I think it’s Brooke’s necklace. Her father gave it to her when she was three. That lady said her husband, Mr. Parsons, gave it to her, and it looks like the exact same necklace that Brooke had.” I continued to walk. “He could have killed Brooke and gave her necklace to his wife. So, either he’s a really good actor and he did it, or the real killer is still out there.” I forcefully opened Josh’s car door, jumped in and pulled the door to close it.

Josh walked around the front of the car and slid into the driver’s seat. I began fiddling with my phone.

Josh placed his hands over mine. “Look that could be any necklace.”

I looked away from my phone to look at him. “Yeah, maybe.” I buckled my seatbelt and Josh did the same, before he started the car and sped off into the street.

***

Josh pulled into my driveway and put the car into
park
. He then turned to face me. “Don’t worry about anything, okay. If he did it, it’s only a matter of time before they catch him. We’ll figure something out, and prove that we’re innocent.”

I pressed my lips together and unbuckled my seatbelt.

“I hope you’re right.” He leaned in to kiss me before I stepped out of the car. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“No problem,” he said with a smile. “I’ll call you later.”

“Okay.” I smiled back. “Bye.” I closed the door and stood there, watching as Josh reversed and drove away. Then I padded up the walkway to my front door and went inside.

***

Later that night after dinner, my mother and Hank went out, so I was home by myself. I went to my room and slipped on my pajamas. I decided to make some popcorn and watch a movie on
Netflix
. I was browsing the comedy section when there was a knock at the front door. I sprinted towards the door and pulled it open to find Mark standing there.

“Mark! Hi!”

“Hi Hanna.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Where have
you
been?”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ve been dealing with some stuff.” He wore a grey pullover hoodie and black track pants. His hands were stuffed in the front pouch pocket of his sweater.

“Is everything okay?” He had a wounded look in his eyes.

“My grandfather passed away. He had a stroke.”

“Oh my gosh! Mark, I’m so sorry.” That explains why he’s been so distant. I put my hand on his shoulder.

“Is it okay if I come in? I could really use somebody to talk to.” I thought about it for a moment. I didn’t want Josh to be pissed at me, but I felt bad for Mark.

“Sure.” He padded past me and took off his shoes before taking a seat on the couch. I closed the door and sat down beside him.

“Is anybody here with you?” he asked.

“No, it’s just us.” He leaned back on the couch and placed his hands on his knees. His face was twisted in anguish.

“Do you want a drink or something?”

“Water will be fine.” I nodded my head, then stood up and sauntered into the kitchen. I pulled open the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. I went back into the living room and handed it to him. “Thanks,” he said in a low tone. I sat down next to him on the couch. I bit my lip. I wasn’t sure about what to say, but I knew I had to be careful with my words.

“I’m really sorry for your loss.” He took a swig of his water and turned his head to look at me. He offered a smile.

“It just happened so fast. One minute he was here and now he’s gone.” He placed the water bottle on the coffee table. “Who am I gonna go fishing with?” he muttered.

“What?”

“He used to take me fishing. My father’s always busy with work, and my mom…well…she doesn’t fish. So, my grandfather and I…that was
our
thing.” He looked down at his hands.

“That must have meant a lot to you.” I rubbed his back.

“It did,” he whispered. A single tear rolled down his cheek. He gazed at me deeply and edged a little closer. “Thanks for being here for me.”

“No problem.” I bit my lip. He leaned forward to kiss me, but I brushed him away with my hand. “I’m sorry…I can’t do this.

I’m with Josh,” I said in a hushed tone. He lowered his eyes and backed away from me. The room grew quiet. The phone rang and pierced the silence. I dashed across the room and picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Hanna, it’s Detective Walters.”

“Oh, hi.” I sank into one hip.

“Are you alone?”

“No, I’m just hanging out with Mark.”

“Mark Edwards?”

“Yeah. Why?” There was a pause.

“Hanna. I need you to listen to me very carefully, and not react to what I’m about to tell you.” The sound of my heartbeat roared in my ears. I grasped the phone tightly in my hand.

“Okay.”

“We confirmed who killed Brooke Tillier.”

“Who?”

“Mark Edwards.” My stomach dropped. I stood rigid with terror. I slowly turned my head to look at Mark, who was still sitting on my couch.

“Are you sure?” My arms blossomed with goosebumps.

“I’m afraid I am. An employee of a burger place found a blood stained shirt and knife in the dumpster and called the police. The knife had Mark’s partial prints, and the blood on the shirt belonged to Brooke.” At that moment, I gazed at Mark hoping he didn’t know who I was talking to or what we were talking about. The series of events flashed through my mind. The texts…the notes in my locker…what happened at the prom. “Be careful. Mark Edwards is disturbed. This isn’t the first time he’s done this. He’s dangerous. Try to stay calm. The police are on their way.”

“O-okay.” I hung up the cordless phone and padded back to the couch. I couldn’t bring myself to sit next to him, so I stood. I bit my lip and crossed my arms over my chest.

“Who was that?” he asked.

“O-oh…just my mom checking up on me.”

“Oh.” His head cocked to the side. “You seem nervous Hanna.”

“Me? No, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” It felt like a thousand spiders were crawling all over my body.

“I see.” He stood up in a languid manner and began stroking his chin. “Who was on the phone Hanna?”

“I told you. It was my mom.”

“You’re lying.”

“What!” No…I’m not.”

“You know, don’t you?” The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

“Know what?”

“About Brooke. You know I killed her.” Those words sent a shiver up my spine.

“N-no. I-I don’t know anything. I swear,” I stammered.

“I don’t believe you Hanna,” he said in a sinister voice. My legs were stiff. My eyes darted around the room. I thought about running to the kitchen to grab the frying pan off the stove, but I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it. He was watching me.

“It’s okay Mark. I-I don’t care about what you did to Brooke. Let’s just forget it. My hands trembled. He closed his eyes and put his face in his hand. He shook his head left to right in a slow manner.

“No…it’s not okay Hanna.” He sauntered towards me. “Everybody’s abandoning me. You dumped me for Josh. My grandfather’s gone.” His eyes were dark. I felt a sickening wave of terror well up from my stomach. “I thought you were different, but you’re just like the others.” At that moment, I knew I had to do something. I bolted into the kitchen. I snapped up the frying pan from the stove. He chased me and grabbed a knife out of the wooded block. He cornered me. I swung the frying pan at him but missed. There was a struggle. He clenched my wrists and pushed me down. My hair fell over my face.  I tried to get away, but he pinned me to the ground so I couldn’t move. He covered my mouth with his hand. “I’m sorry things had to end this way Hanna,” he said in an even tone. He raised the knife above my stomach. Tears spilled from my eyes. I stretched my arm out to get the pan, but I couldn’t reach it. All of a sudden, I felt the blade pierce my flesh. I squeezed my eyes shut and gritted my teeth. My limbs trembled. My heart pounded so hard I thought it was going to explode. I felt the blood ooze from the gash in my stomach. I started to get weak. He raised the knife again to finish me off, then the front door burst open and the police charged towards us. I recoiled in pain.