Cause of Death by Laura Dembowski (ereader iphone .TXT) 📗

of the time we have to drop the topic because we can’t come to an understanding. The rest of the time, she talks to Devin or looks up the answer on the Internet and finds out I’m right after all. Not that an apology ever follows; more likely a muttered “You’re right,” as though it’s literally killing her to admit such a thing is even possible.

“You can’t see him anymore. You know that, right? This has to stop,” I say, the thought suddenly so obvious to me, even though it may not be the right one. Perhaps old Ryan thought he could get evidence against me by sleeping with my sister, but what if she protects me, turns him on to another suspect? Won’t seem so clever then, now, will he? It’s probably not worth it; he’ll never believe her, and one destroyed family is enough for our lineage.

She looks at me. I can’t put my finger on it; maybe she’s mad that I think I can tell her what to do just because I’m her big sister. Maybe she’s sad because she knows she needs to end it, too. And maybe it’s one of those evil looks because she knows she can totally fuck me over if she wants to, and I have a feeling she wants to more than anything on earth.

“It doesn’t have to stop just because you say so. You don’t control me. I want to keep seeing him.”

“A little while ago, you said you’d stop.”

“I didn’t really mean that, and you know it. You wouldn’t have meant it either. It’s what people say to appease the other party.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “Why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you, Maggie—far from it. Although you don’t make it easy to be liked. My God, you went on a vacation right after Lana died. Who does that?”

I say nothing. I have nothing to say. She has no idea what I’ve gone through in life. What life was like with Lana—although apparently Lana gave an award-winning performance.

Beth starts to walk away, but I still don’t feel like I can drive myself home. I’m not even sure I can stand up without assistance.

“Wait,” I yelp, a puppy needing its mommy. A lost hiker begging for a drink of water. A sister needing help from her family.

Beth turns and glares at me. “What?” she asks, fire flying out of her mouth, showing the dragon she secretly is.

“Can you drive me home?” I ask, partly hoping she’ll say no and leave me on the bench, to be found dead in the morning. Oh, the joys of finding out your sister is sleeping with the man who thinks you killed your daughter.

“Yes,” she says.

I force myself to get up and walk to her car without assistance. I stumble a couple times, but somehow make it to the car. I hang onto the door for a moment to catch my breath before Beth honks the horn. I jump in the car and we ride home in silence. I wish I had thrown up in her car, but I’m not queasy anymore.

I wonder how we got here. How I got here.

I hate myself for letting all of this happen to me, for this being my life. I hate Dave and Lana and Beth and my parents for leading me to this life. I hate the universe for putting me in this situation. I hate everyone and everything. And there’s nothing I can do about it.

Chapter 13

Ryan

“So, what’s the verdict?” I say to the medical examiner, and regret it the moment it comes out of my mouth. Bob’s an odd guy, quite the character. The type you might guess is a medical examiner.

Don’t get me wrong; he’s the smartest guy I know. Keep telling him he should try out for Jeopardy! but he’s afraid to fly, so he doesn’t. I can’t be sure, but I think he just goes from his house to work, from work to his house. Maybe he’s a vampire and can’t be in the sun. I don’t know. He’s got this weird sense of humor and can’t handle himself in social situations.

He likes Kate and me. Well, he likes Kate. So he’s nice to us, and doesn’t look at the floor when he talks to us, something I’m told he does with most people. The one thing I don’t have to worry about with Bob is that he’ll mess up the case. He’s so thorough and doesn’t let anything slip through the cracks. So, if there’s evidence of Lana’s cause of death anywhere on her body, he’ll find it.

The autopsy took a while, what felt like forever, but they all do. This time it just felt longer because this autopsy will determine whether this is a case. If Bob rules it a suicide, we’re done. We have apologies to issue, might face lawsuits, but will close the case. I can’t speak for Kate, but if this happens, I’ll always feel a little uneasy about it.

If it’s a homicide—man, do we have a mess on our hands. Under different circumstances, I might have bet Kate on what would happen, but today, I just make a mental bet with myself. All my money’s on homicide.

“You’re gonna have to wait for the jury, and their verdict,” he says, laughing at his own joke. Kate and I chuckle along to keep Bob happy.

“What did you find out?” Kate asks in her sweetest voice.

“Well, there was definitely a struggle. Some bruising on her arms, skin under her fingernails. It could be explained in a lot of ways. Parents could write it off as an accidental scratch, which does happen, but my instinct says there was a struggle.”

“Did you test for drugs?” I ask.

“Oh, good question!”

He’s excited to tell us. I like my job, but I don’t think I’ve ever been that excited about it. Ordinarily I might be frustrated by his eagerness, but it’s oddly endearing.

“I ran blood, urine, and