Secrets, Lies and Dragonflies

Chapter 56

 My gaze shifts from Aunt Amy to the uniformed man standing on our porch. "Uh, what's going on?"

"I just asked you a question and I expect an answer, young lady," she says. The look on her face sends waves of panic through me.

"Oh no...is it Spencer? Did something happen to him?"

"Never mind about him." Her icy tone is piercing. "He's fine. The question is, where have you been?"

"I-I just went for a walk. I was on the trails. I don't understand. Why is Sheriff Miller here?"

"Funny you should ask. Maybe you could enlighten me. Why do you think he's here?" She crosses her arms.

Sheriff Miller gestures to a chair. "Why don't you have a seat, please. I just need to ask you a few questions."

"Yeah. Sure." A scattered pile of letters covers one of the tables. The gift bag and the volleyball mom gave me are sitting on another. And my backpack on yet another, with its contents spread everywhere. "You went through all my stuff?"

Her eyes narrow. "Sit. Down."

Melting under her laser glare, I do exactly what she says.

"I'm shutting the door to the main house," she says sternly to Sheriff Miller. "I don't want Spencer hearing any of this,"

Something Spencer can't know? The letters from my stepfather are staring back at me. I swallow hard. Could it be about mom? Only Rob knows enough to trigger the police to reopen the case. But why would he tell? No one's even investigating mom's death anymore. They ruled it accidental. A drunkard who fell down the stairwell and broke her neck. They didn't even find Rob near the house. That was our agreement. It was just me with her dead body all that time before Mrs. Cannon found us. Although appealing, the thought of ending this torment, answering for my crime, telling everyone my mom was defending me when I killed her, now is not the time. What would happen to Spencer? They can't take me away until I know he's safe. And Rob will never stop coming for him.

"Alright, Mackenzie Temple," Sheriff Miller begins, pulling a little pad out of his front panel pocket. He clicks his pen. "So, I need to ask you a few questions. It should only take a minute."

I sit on my trembling hands. "Okay."

"Let's see." He skims over the spiral notebook, slowly flipping the filled pages until he lands on an unmarked page. "Alright. Here we go." He clears his throat. "I need to ask about Chuck Conner. Tell me, have you ever met this young man?"

Caught off guard, not expecting this question at all, I give a vague reply. "Uh, um, met him, like shake hands and meet him formally?" I ask. Where is this going? It couldn't be about him running me over. No one who knows about that would ever tell.

Squirming in his chair, he lets out a long, loud huff. "Okay. That's not exactly what I'm asking. I'll be more specific. Have you ever spent time with him?"

This doesn't appear to be the line of questioning a victim of a hit and run would be given. "Spent time with Chuck Conner? I guess you could call it that. He and his family were here this morning at the café, if that's what you mean." I try to sit up taller to give the false impression that I've nothing to hide.

"Right. No. That's not what I mean," he says, scratching his balding forehead. "This isn't a trick question. I need to know if he has ever taken you anywhere. Maybe over by Charlotte?"

"Charlotte? As in the city?" I say, trying to sound confused.

"Yes. Charlotte, the city," he replies. The sharpness tells me not to push my luck. "Say, last night? Can you tell me where you were last night?"