After her talk with Ray Thursday night, Ashley told herself to let Brandon be Brandon. Let him work through whatever he needed to. Ray said he’d tell Brandon everything in the morning and that would help make things right between her and Brandon. This way, Ashley wouldn’t have to tell Brandon she knew about his mom and Ray. It was all going to work out, so there was no reason for her to worry.
Two hours later, she still hadn’t stopped thinking about Brandon’s whereabouts. She picked up her cell and called. No answer. That was understandable, he was mad after all. Maybe she would send a text. No. They weren’t in high school. Brandon was a grown adult. He’d come home on his own soon.
It was midnight when she remembered the GPS app on both of their phones.
Ashley thumbed through the features on her phone and found the app. She clicked on Brandon’s name and waited. Searching…..searching…..creating map. Brandon was on South Tacoma Way, the industrial area. It wasn’t the best part of town for a guy without a car. Ashley grabbed her purse and locked the door before walking out of the apartment.
As she got in her Mini Cooper, she refreshed the map. Now he was by the Tacoma Mall. The buses stopped running after midnight. He either walked or was driven there. Maybe he Ubered there. But why? Who was he with? Could he possibly be cheating on her while thinking she was cheating? Liars never believe anyone. Jesus, was she the only one not secretly fucking someone around here? She started the car and headed towards the mall.
Judging by his location on the app, Brandon was in a blue van parked next to a green Lexus. The van was in a far corner of the otherwise empty, Tacoma Mall parking lot. Something was going on in that van. Ashley parked near a closed down restaurant about a hundred yards away. She turned off her lights and figured they wouldn’t see her. Hell, with what they were probably up to, they wouldn’t notice if she came up and knocked on the window. That idea had its merits, but she wanted to know who it was first.
After a few moments, the side door of the van slid open. A large woman with red hair hopped out, carrying a bag. Ashley watched her throw something small. The woman looked around the parking lot. Even from where she was, Ashley recognized Gretchen. Ashley’s blood ran cold. Gretchen popped the trunk of the Lexus, put the bag inside and got in the car. Alone. Gretchen drove right by without even a glance toward Ashley. Ashley watched the van. Nothing happened. She checked for the signal from Brandon’s phone. It was gone. Gretchen must have found and thrown the phone. She could go get it, but that would mean letting Gretchen get away. Ashley started her car.
Gretchen had Brandon’s phone, but why? She tried not to think about what might have happened to Brandon. She followed Gretchen onto South 38th Street towards the northbound freeway onramps. Ashley followed her onto the freeway, trying not to get too close. They pulled onto Highway 16 heading towards the Narrows Bridges. Ashley slowed down to let Gretchen gain distance. It was almost two in the morning. There wasn’t much traffic. She tried to remember any tips about ‘tailing’ she might have seen on television.
Ten minutes later, they crossed the Narrows. Gretchen took the first exit after the bridges. Ashley kept following. The area directly across the bridge was the outskirts of Gig Harbor. There was a lot of forest. As they went on, Ashley started to feel nervous. What if Gretchen was luring her out to the middle of nowhere? Gretchen’s taillights disappeared and reappeared with each turn and hill. Then, they were gone. Ashley slowed down to look around. Something caught her eye to her left. Down a short gravel driveway, she saw Gretchen’s taillights blink.
Ashley pulled over. She took out her smart phone and dropped a pin on her map. She checked the time. It was after 2:30am now. There was a sign at the driveway: U-Served Process Serving.
She ran through every scenario she could; trying to imagine a situation in which Brandon wasn’t dead. At minimum Brandon was in contact with Gretchen and he’d left his phone with her. But why would he do that? What if Brandon was in the van? She put her car into drive and headed back to the mall.
Twenty minutes later, Ashley parked in the same spot Gretchen’s Lexus was an hour or so earlier. She stepped out of the car and looked around, making sure she was the only one in the area. She did not approach the van at first. It was fear. She pulled out her phone, using the light on it as a flashlight and slowly approached the van. The van’s windows were tinted but she could see inside using the light. It was empty.
Ashley remembered Gretchen throwing something. It took only a couple minutes to find the remains of Brandon’s phone.
This didn’t mean he was dead. It just meant he didn’t have his phone. He could still be alive somewhere. Hell, he could be at home right now. But he wasn’t.
Brandon was dead. The words echoed in her head. If she killed Brandon, was Ashley next? Then there was only one word in her head: GO.
Ashley found herself at the ocean as the sun rose. Ocean Shores was only a couple hours away from Tacoma, but it felt like another planet. When she was little, her parents would take her here every July. They’d rent a little cottage and spend the weekend on the beach. She looked forward to it every year. Her parents weren’t the happiest of couples, but they rarely fought when they were at the ocean. The ocean was safe.
Ashley tried to tell herself Brandon was still alive, but she didn’t believe it. Instead she started looking at all the ways it seemed that she might be guilty of Brandon’s murder. She had fought with her boyfriend. She had gone back across the Narrows returning to Tacoma which meant there was proof she drove out there. She could tell the cops the truth, but are they going to believe a mysterious killer killed him or are they going to believe it was his angry ex?
She came up with alibis for herself: Brandon left his phone at home. Ashley went looking for him because she was worried. How did he die? If Gretchen shot him, they could have her hands tested for gun powder residue. She could just tell the absolute truth and hope they were sympathetic to her situation. She ran scenario after scenario. She couldn’t find the right angle.
As the day went on, she started to feel like none of it mattered. She’d spent most of the day walking on the beach barefoot. It wasn’t warm. It was November in Washington, but she let the cold water hit her bare feet anyway. Soon they were numb. She kept walking.
She realized Brandon would never be here with her. He was gone and there was nothing she would ever be able to do to fix that. She sank to her knees in the ankle deep water. She had a stray thought that she her phone was getting wet. She couldn’t hear herself cry over the waves.
Around nightfall, Ashley decided she needed to go back to Tacoma. She didn’t have the money to run, and there was nowhere to run, even if she wanted. She’d go back to Tacoma and get some answers. On her drive back she thought maybe she could talk to Nicolas. Brandon said something about his dad being a part of this shady business. What if Nicolas was in on it? No. His own son? Not likely.
She wanted to call Ray, but the ocean had waterlogged her phone. It was Saturday morning when Ashley returned to Tacoma. She hadn’t slept since Wednesday night. As she pulled up to Ray’s, her courage and energy ran out.
Her clothes were still damp. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting in the car. She had fallen asleep at some point. The heavy knock on her car window made her scream.
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Afterthoughts
It’s a little known fact that in the early part of the 20th century, Tacoma, Washington almost became Hollywood. There were investors who recognized that the city happens to be two hours or less from ocean, mountain, desert, forest, or island. One of the best parts about this place is that you can take a day trip and entirely leave your present environment.
It seemed to me that Ashley would likely run. But would also realize that running isn’t very realistic. She’s impulsive but smart.
I also wanted to play with the idea of introducing a new point of view late in the story and I didn’t want the rest of the book to simply bounce back and forth between Laura and Ray.
We’re in the final chapters of A Better Lie. That’s why Short Story #3 is next. And after that, the final three installments.
NEXT: Short Story #3