“Who do you think it could’ve been? We know it’s not either one of us, and with Sharon and Laura’s video…”
Alex stood and walked to the edge of the ladder. He glanced down below, trying to see where everyone had gone, and Jenn followed his stare. Not a single person had left the middle deck. None of them wanted to be accused of tampering with Erica’s body. They sat in small cliques; Sharon and Laura up near the bow, huddled together. Mark and Terri stood at the stern, arguing, while Chet and Karen tried to ignore them where they sat on one of the nearby benches built into a bulkhead. Wade leaned over the railing on the starboard side, looking down into the water while the breeze lifted the wide brim of his hat.
He said, “And you’re positive about her and Laura?”
She nodded. After Mark had punched Alex, and Alex had subsequently stormed off to pout, alone, Sharon and Laura insisted they had proof of their innocence, an undeniable alibi, but they’d been reluctant to share it. When pressed, they were absolutely insistent that they wouldn’t say what or how, only that they had proof and that would have to be enough until they could speak to the authorities.
The bickering and protesting reached a cacophonous crescendo with Mark finally making the point that sealed the reveal of their evidence.
“You have to explain yourselves. If the two of you have absolute, rock-solid proof, then we have two fewer people to worry about, okay? What are you so worried about? If I were innocent, I’d want everyone to know.”
“Me, too,” Chet said.
Karen wasn’t so agreeable. “If you were innocent?”
“Oh for the love of God. You know what I meant.”
Karen cocked a hip and flipped her curly locks over her shoulder. “Do I?”
“I meant if I had bona fide proof, you self-righteous asshole.”
Chet stepped between them, held his hand against Mark’s chest. “Hey, now, hey buddy, none of that.”
“Well, she’s—”
“I know, I know.” Chet turned to his wife. “Let’s be done with that.”
“Why’re you defending him?”
“Because you’re losing focus, that’s why. One thing at a time. If the ladies will show us this big, dark secret they have and prove themselves, we can mark them off the list and move down the line. Process of elimination. Ain’t that right, Wade? That’s some good detective work right there, huh?”
Wade said it was, and they all took a breath.
Defiant, Sharon said, “We’re still not telling.”
Laura tilted her head toward Sharon, then calmly reached down and took her hand, intertwining their fingers together. “We might as well tell them. They all know anyway.”
“Know what?” Chet asked.
“No, they don’t,” Sharon protested. “They don’t. It’ll be the end of—oh, uh. Oh no.”
“The end of what?” asked Terri.
“I know,” Jenn admitted.
“See, Sharon. Let’s just get it over with, okay? Please? I’m tired of hiding. We’ve known these guys for years. They’ll understand.”
“But what about Ralph and Arnold?”
“We’ll deal with that when the time comes. We can show them, and we’re clean.”
“Show us what?” asked Mark.
Sharon huffed and pinched the bridge of her nose, finally relenting. “Okay. Okay. Tell them.”
Laura held up her hand, the one holding Sharon’s, and squeezed it tighter in full view of everyone. “We’ve been, um, together for two years. Ralph and Arnold have no idea, and I know we don’t seem like the type, but we just sorta fell into it. The guys were always gone to Asia for work, for weeks on end and we were… We were…”
Sharon finished the sentence for her. “Lonely.”
Terri made an exaggerated gagging sound. Everyone ignored her.
Wade said, “Congratulations, but how’s that supposed to mean you’re innocent?”
Sheepishly, Laura broke eye contact and nibbled on her bottom lip, toeing a crumpled napkin at her feet. “We—so, we were drunk and horny and wanted to get adventurous, and well, we made a video.”
“What kind of video?” Chet asked. He leaned toward them. Jenn imagined him as a cartoon wolf, eyes bugging out, tongue wagging, saliva dripping from his jaw while a giant horn blared, “Aaaahooooguh!”
Karen slapped his shoulder. “You know damn well what they mean.”
“That may be so,” Wade said, “but we’ll need to see it for proof. Somebody will, at least. The possibility of proof doesn’t cement your innocence until evidence is presented as fact.”
“Yeah,” Mark added. “Whatever you two do in your own time is fine by us—”
“Not me,” Terri said, shaking her head. The others nodded, agreeing with Mark, almost to spite her it seemed.
“—but, a couple of hours recorded on a camera doesn’t mean you couldn’t have, you know, finished up and then left your room later.”
“You people are ridiculous,” Sharon said. “How long have we known each other, huh? Five years? Some of you longer? The fact of the matter is, and I don’t know how many times we can say this, somebody here murdered that poor girl downstairs, and you all want to stand here and claim, ‘It wasn’t me, it wasn’t me!’ without a damn shred of evidence. But when we say we’ve got proof—private, intimate proof—you all want us to show you like we’re watching some funny cat video on YouTube. You should be ashamed of yourselves.”
“Finally. A voice of reason,” Karen said.
“We can prove it wasn’t us,” Laura said. “Sharon’s digital camera was still recording when we woke up this morning. It was sitting right there on the tripod, little red light blinking. We watched it before we came up for breakfast, if you want to know the truth. Can’t I just explain to you what’s on it? There’s fifteen minutes of us smiling and making out in front of the camera, then ten minutes of an awkward, drunk sixty-nine until we passed out. That’s it. The rest is five hours of us sleeping.”
Wade shrugged. He’d poured himself another cup of coffee while she was talking. He lifted the mug to his lips and gingerly took a sip. “Laura, honey, I’d love to take your word for it. We all would, but if we’re checking you two off the list, it’s gotta be done. Somebody’s gotta see it. Doesn’t have to be all of us. Would you—would you feel comfortable with Jenn watching?”
Jenn hadn’t been listening, not fully, anyway. She’d heard the words, yet they hadn’t registered until her name was mentioned. In her mind, she’d been revisiting the night before, loaded, dancing in the nude on the tabletop, caressing Erica’s perfectly tanned and toned body. She’d imagined Sharon and Laura becoming aroused, using the show to enhance their libidos, however awkward the ending may have been when she yanked her best friend to the ground.
She sputtered, “W-what? Me?”
“Yes, you,” Wade said. “You can be objective, and maybe it won’t be as uncomfortable for them, instead of letting Chief Wagging Tongue over here get his jollies.”
Chet puffed out his chest. “Wait just a minute, there, buddy. I never said—”
“Chet,” Karen interrupted, tugging his arm. “Leave it alone.”
“That’d be okay,” Laura said. “Sharon?”
Sharon said yes, reluctantly.
“We’ll just fast-forward through it. You’ll see. It’s time-stamped and everything.”
Wade said, “I’ll escort you down to get the camera—Terri, don’t roll your eyes at me. This is settled. I’ll escort Sharon down to get the camera, and then they can show Jenn. Privately, somewhere. That work for you, Jenn?”
She felt warm underneath her windbreaker. Not because she was about to watch two of her ultra-conservative friends engage in not-so-conservative behavior, but because it would prove their innocence, which meant two fewer possibilities, which increased the odds of everyone else believing she was the culprit. “That’s fine,” she said, even though it wasn’t fine. Not at all.