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“Gigi wasdragged. Someone had her by the ankles and dragged her, that’s why there were those bruises on her ankles. She wasn’t alone when it happened. I think someone did it to her.” She looks over her shoulder as the door squeaks open. Before she bothers to watch whoever comes out into the courtyard, she turns back to Kate, her eyes suddenly fierce,awake. “There were letters cut into her feet,” she whispers. “Two letters.Initials…”
Kate flicks her gaze to the sound of footsteps nearing the table, hidden behind the stacked crates. “Don’t tell me…”
“Yeah.” Billie’s mouth flattens into a grim line. “H.M.”
Kate snaps her mouth shut.
Her eyes lift to the edge of the crate, Billie turning to trace her gaze, as Jim comes around the corner. He balances a tray on one hand, sets it down on the table.
But in his other hand is a gift.
With a smile full of nothing but pity, he hands it to Billie.
She takes back her now-full water bottle. “Thanks, Jimmie.”
“You heard from your mum?”
She scoffs out a bitter laugh.
“Right.” He nods—
But his face hardens, and it reminds her of times in her childhood when he would shout to the heavens and hells at her mom for leaving her home alone for nights to feed herself or letting her wander off to the woods when she was only seven.
The most common fights they had were about there being no food in the trailer for Billie to eat. That’s when he stepped in—started coming ‘round to drop off meals his wife made or stuff from the Joint.
Then, when she was a senior, she asked him for some money… (since she needed to replace her “stolen” Ford, and pay for the truck she still has now.
Instead of cash, he gave her a job. It’s a good one too, since he doesn’t seem to mind that she’s piss-drunk most of the time or that she digs into his pocket by drinking his stuff on the job.
“I’ll get a hold of her,” Jim promises Billie before he walks off. “Sort her out.”
That’s his version of ‘love you, kiddo’, like he used to tell her well over a decade ago. Now, she’s grown, and so she doesn’t hear that from him anymore. It’s not his way. But he’ll look out for her all the same.
“All right,” Kate starts. “So why not be upfront about this to Carmine? You waited for her to leave before you said anything about initials, let alone Henry’s.”
“Yeah, well Carmine would crumble. Fast. You know that. She’s too soft.”
“It will come out sooner or later. After the autopsy, the police will know they are looking for a murderer.”
“I’d rather she find out later, even if it’s just a couple of days.” Billie stretches out her aching arms. “Listen, if she knows about Gigi being marked like that, about what it means, how long do you think before she starts thinking the only way to save herself is … by confessing, or some stupid shit like that?”
Kate hums something dark. “You’re right. We need to keep her out of the loop on this one. Best to keep Tonya away from her, too.”
Billie agrees with a nod.
“Distract her with Grace. We’ll go to the sleepover tonight, say it makes us feel better,” Kate goes on, her mind churning behind pensive eyes. “And in the meantime, you need to slow down on the drink. I need you to help me.”
Billie blinks at her. “Help with what?”
“Well,ifthere’s a killer out there—he seems to be after us. First Cletus, and in his blood written ‘THE BUTCHER’. Gigi the next night, Henry Maxwell’s initials cut into her skin. Last night… nothing happened. We’re all safe… But who knows for how long.”
“Whoever’s doin’ this knows,” Billie agrees and cups the water bottle freshly filled with booze. She pops the lid and takes a long few gulps. Kate reaches out her hand to slow her down… and Billie listens.
She corks the lid. “If this is a killer, they know what we did, and who was involved. But… howcouldanyone know?”
“Cletus didn’t tell anyone.” Kate thinks for a beat. “No, I can’t see him confessing his own part in it. He’s never told a secret before—so why would he tell ours? No, Cletus told no one. So—”
“If he didn’t,” Billie says, “then one of us did.”
