The Chase

Chapter 7

What, he said. What did you say?

She repeated herself. I killed mother. I was curious, nothing new, still curious. How many times you want me to attempt it? Or was it somebody else that killed her and I took the blame for it? This is fun.

You did it, he said. Not me, the bimbo, your friends, and your siblings. You attempted it that you did it. Stop trying to fool me, it won't work. Looks like I'm not the person that been holding secrets. Just like your mother.

Scarlett realized that she hadn't been making any statements- it had just kind of slipped out- but now the truth is out it was exactly what she meant. So she nodded.

You can think I'm just a bitch, Franco said. But you will always be the insane psycho one that nobody would believe you. Or whatever you reads online that makes you insane or anything. What I can't accept is you attempting that, and that you wished it was me. Your siblings are devesated at their mother loss still. Lux doesn't even know what her mother looked like, thanks to you.

And she had agreed with him. She told him he had put it well. What she doesn't agree with is why would he had an affair with a bimbo if he truly loved Diana?

Since then, they had barely spoken. Scarlett slept at friends houses; Franco stayed at their house. On the few occasions they had been sharing words they discussed Jodie and his wedding, about ten days ago, when she had told him what was on her mind.

She wanted to move back in, be a family with them once again. Which was what Asher and Lux wanted, and would get. And they got what they wanted.

"No, I'm not ok," she said. "How can I be fine that I have to call that bimbo, my stepmother?"

"Wait," Miles said. "She was one of the bimbo?"

"Fifteen years. Fifteen bimbos each year," she corrected. Fourteen years of Franco sneaking behind her mother's back and having affairs.

"You know this because?" America asked. "Who said?"

"Jake. He kept me up to date when he visited me in Falling Rocks," Scarlett stiffensed in her chair. She looked at the clock on the wall of the Cafè. It was one of those Swiss railway clocks, with ebony blocky minute and hour hands. The clock was not an imitation; it was the real thing. It went with the polished woods panel and the oval tables and comfortable leather chairs. Nothing but the best for greatest known cafè. The waitress they met in there were reassured by that kind of things.

Nine thirty-three. Scarlett had to go home and pick up, Jodie to try on wedding dresses. They had an appointment at twelve thirty at Dolly's Wedding Dresses For Rent, and they couldn't be late. The woman worked the day shift; she had agreed to wait until three thirty, but that was as long as she could hold on.
She was surprised when she woke one morning to plaintive cries and came downstairs to find her german shepherd husky, Disco - who had been suffering from a mysterious listlessness for the last week- was producing puppies at an rapidly rate. She worked from sunrise to afternoon.

"I'm ready now," Scarlett said. "Can't be late at Dolly's."

Scarlett did not want to deal with the disappointment that would follow if she had came home late and Dolly's be closed. Even more than that, Scarlett needed the wedding rental store to be nothing but joy and happiest for Jodie, yeah she disliked the fact of having a new mommy but doesn't mean she wants Jodie to feel unwanted by her stepdaughter.
She hadn't found Jake in bed with any girls- thankfully, he volunteer as a bartender on the weekends- or with anybody else, for that matter. If he had she probably would go insane or wouldn't have cared, which was a problem. She liked Jake. She wouldn't even know what to do with herself; if she found out he cheated on her, or affair whenever they get married.

"Let's go," Miles said. They stood up, arm and arm, facing the door. "Doesn't Dolly closes at three thirty?"

Scarlett nodded. "Her dog produced puppies. She have to spend hours buying the beds, selecting names, planning where to walk them, and stocking up on treats. Busy bee."

"She keeping the puppies?" Miles asked. "How many puppies?"

"She didn't say," she responded. She put her hand on the door and open it. "See you both tonight?"

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The house is quiet and still, as if it's holding a breath. She heard the ticking of the wall clock and a low tune of music in the background and women humbling along with the music.

"Jodie?" she asked. "Stepmother, is that you?"

Jodie didn't answer. It couldn't continue, this speakless war between them. In the end, one of them have to speak.

Her mind went blank as she stumpled upon the lifeless body of America crumpled on the floor before her. Now she cannot tear her eyes away, tears pouring down her cheeks. Her eyes are closed, but there is slight movement in her chest. Every seconds, there is a slight quick, pulsing underneath the thick fabric of her soaked red breast. A blouse that used to be white.

Who killed America?

Scarlett was just with America. How did she ended up here, she thought. She doesn't know who killed America and how she got there so fast.

"OK," Scarlett said. Think. If you bury her body outside, someone will see you. If you call 911, you be a suspect. Basement? We hardly ever use the basement, she thought.

She gripped onto America weak and lifeness arms and pulled her down the basement stairs. "You better be silent down there, America. They will know you are here."

Shut up, she thought. Stop talking, you going insane over your friend's death.

Jodie walked down the stairs to the first floor. "You ready to go to Dolly's" she said.

"I called your name twice," Scarlett responded. "What took you too long?"

"Changing into a new outfit and washing...my hands. Why?"

"Oh nothing, let's go."

Scarlett knew she have to tell someone about America's lifeless body. How though? She would be the main suspect.
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