The Trench

Chapter 20 - Blame Game

I stand there in shock and confusion watching Mae stomp towards us. When I look back on it I didn't have anything to be shocked at; yet. However, I guess it was the murderous glare she was giving Aimee that froze me in place; perfume bottle still hanging in my hand. Her eyes never left Aimee and I'm not sure if she even notices I'm there.

"You piece of shit!" Mae spits as she reaches us, her gaze on Aimee. Aimee takes a step back and crosses her arms, cocking her head at Mae.

"Excuse me?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." Mae's words drip with venom and she shoves her finger in Aimee's chest. "It was your fault, everything was your fault."

"I'm speaking honestly when I say I don't know what the fuck kind of crazy bullshit you're spewing now, Mae. But you better backup before I make you." Aimee says through her teeth as she uncrosses her arms and puts them to her side, fists clenching.

I had no idea what was happening, I set the perfume down on the table quietly. I was worried making any noise would break Mae's concentration and she would leave or turn on me. I'm not scared of confrontation, I could handle myself. But I've been wondering what happened between these two and I'm not about to interrupt unless it gets ugly.

"It was your fault." Mae whispers dangerously, then her shoulders sag almost in defeat and she looks down at the floor.

"You're gonna have to enlighten me, I still don't know what you're talking about." I could see Aimee looking Mae up and down trying to gauge her body language. Even though it seemed Mae relaxed a tad, Aimee was still tense and ready for anything.

Mae's head snapped up and her eyes were filled with hate again, the whole mood switching was giving me whiplash here.

"You're the reason she's DEAD! You started it, you didn't believe me, and you turned her against ME!" Mae took a step towards Aimee and in a second raised her hand.

I don't know how she saw it coming, but as soon as Mae's hand raised Aimee caught her wrist, blocking the slap before it happened.

Damn, those are some cat like reflexes. I thought to myself.

"How DARE you." It was Aimee's turn now. "If anyone turned her against you it was YOU and your crazy antics. You're the one who accused Randy, you're the one who was jealous of any relationship she had with anyone else. Including me. You're the reason she left in the first place so if anyone is to blame for her being dead here, it's you." Aimee lowered her voice to a whisper on the last sentence. "And I honestly have no idea why you're bringing it up now, years later. It's over Mae, she's gone."

A thick heavy silence filled the room as Aimee and Mae stood there like soldiers preparing to attack the enemy. Aimee still had a firm grip on Mae's hand and she pushed it away in disgust.

The ringer on the door went off and I glanced to the front where two middle aged women were walking in, smiling and chatting quietly between each other.

"You're ten gallons of crazy in a five gallon bucket, Mae. And I don't have time for a mess like you. Get out." Aimee spit quietly and Mae turned on her heel without looking at me and walked out.

As soon as the door shut behind Mae, Aimee turned to the two women who walked in and beamed a smile at them. "Good afternoon ladies! What are we looking for today?"

Since the "incident" we've been steady with phone calls and customers. I was pretty much useless, but Aimee was used to doing this by herself for months before I came along so we got through it.

Every time we had a break I tried to ask her what the hell happened, but she kept herself busy with phone calls, arranging shelves, or in the office doing what I assume was fake paperwork. She obviously was avoiding discussing it, so I let it go.

The nosy bitch that I share a conscious with demanded answers, but I shoved her down to give Aimee time to tell me herself. I couldn't help but wonder if this was about Emily and it reminded me that I haven't done any research on her. I vowed to do some when I got back to my apartment.

Closing time came and Aimee briefly showed me the close up paperwork and procedures before locking the doors as us going our separate ways. My drive home is short, and in about 5 minutes I was back at my apartment building and climbing the stairs.

I unlock my door and step inside, throwing my purse on the end table and locking the door behind me. I really do have to keep vigilant on locking my doors, back home we usually didn't lock anything so this is a different concept to get used to. Sometimes I forget.

I step into the kitchen and grab a Dr.Pepper and a Tylenol, after the stress of this evening it gave me a monster headache. As I take a drink and swallow the pill I take a quick glance at the family photos I have on my fridge and smile to myself before heading off to my "office".

I turn the floor lamp on in the second bedroom that sits beside my desk and slide into my chair. I really do love this chair. Most people have an office swivel chair at their computer desk; I have a Victorian style maroon chair with dark mahogany wood legs. It doubles as my vanity chair for my makeup table my grandmother bought for me years ago.

Since I don't do my makeup often, the vanity doubles as a second desk and a "catch-all". The drawers are filled with spare batteries, a small sewing kit, several old wind up cameras I never developed, and other useless trinkets I have forgotten about. The vintage white washed paint job was adorable and it had a large rectangle mirror which is now strung with necklaces and scarves.

I do a half sit in front of my chair and scoot it forward before getting settled and turning my laptop on. As the computer boots up I stare out the window that the desk sits in front of. This desk used to sit in front of my window at home and I would sit here forever, windows raised and the nighttime breeze wafting through my hair as I stare at the stars.

Unfortunately, with the city lights I can't see the stars and there's no breeze. I sigh in disappointment and tap the mouse multiple times impatiently. I really do need a new laptop; this one takes for-fucking-ever.

Finally my internet window pops up and I type in "Bangor, ME". The only things that pop up were current population statistics, cute pictures of homes and covered bridges, and a news article about a pit bull ban.

Complete nonsense. I shake my head at the ignorance and keep scrolling. One of my best dogs was a pit bull terrier, stereotyping sucks.

After trying a few different key words I finally found an archived article titled "Teenager Murdered, Goes Unsolved."

Bingo.

A month after Emily House, age 17, was murdered in her home on April 21st, 2013 police still have no leads.

It is lead to believe Ms. House was hit in the head with a blunt object in her home that night after witnesses say they saw her at a pre-graduation party with her classmates. Detectives have interviewed several witnesses and close friends, including boyfriend Randy Leander.

I read on about Emily's school accomplishments and funeral arrangements before shutting my laptop down. I stood up and leaned over to turn my lamp off when something outside caught my eye. From my second story window I could see the entire parking lot; a figure in a black hoodie and pants was walking from the apartments to the lot. Their shoulders were hunched and they were walking quickly, glancing over their shoulder often before shuffling to a black Nissan Camry.

Wait I think I know that car. I squinted trying to see better as the dome light on the car popped on and the person put their hood down.

Where is Kane going this late?