The Mute and the Liar (79 page)

That makes Sasha stop. He is silent for
a
few moments, then says in
a
calmer voice:
“
No, we only ever texted.
”

“
Did you
ever
talk
to her
on
the
phone?
”
Jeffery
asks,
keeping
his
voice
steady.

“
Are
you
fucking
deaf?
I
just
told
you
we
only
ever
texted.
Now
you’d
better
get
here
with my
phone
right
now-
”

Did
he
do
everything
she
told
him
to?
Jeffrey
nods
at
my message.

“
Did you do
everything
she
told you to?
”
he
asks
on
my
behalf.

“
Yeah.
Why
the
fuck
are
you
reading
through
my
messages?
You
bloody
stalker-
”
If
it
was
even
possible,
Sasha’s
voice
has
just
become
even louder
and
angrier than
it
was
before
.

Jeffrey cuts through Sasha’s
swearword-infested
ranting.
“
Why
did
you
do everything she
told you
to?
”

There
is
a
short
pause
before
Sasha
answers.
“
Because
it
was
the
only
way
she
would
come
back.
”

“
Even
though
you
had
your
suspicions
that
she
was
just
an
imposter
right
from
the
beginning?
”

“
She’s
not
an
imposter.
She’s
told
me stuff
only she
would
know.
”

Jeffrey
hesitates about what
to
ask
next.

Was
anyone
else
involved?
I quickly
scribble.

“
And
apart
from
Jayce,
is
there
anyone
else
you
know
who
Becky
got
involved?
”

“
No.
What
kind
of
weird
questions
are-
”
I
write
Jeffrey
another
message:
Ryo?
“
Not
even
Ryo?
”

“
No.
Just
me
and
Jayce,
as
far
as
I
know.
Why
do
you
want
to
know
about
her
anyway?
”

I
am
getting
frustrated
with
writing
messages.
They
take
up
too
much time
and
I
have
so
much
to
say.
So
I
make
a
decision
and
I
take
the
phone from
Jeffrey,
and
I
speak.
My
voice
is
shaky
and
uneasy,
and
my
tone
is
completely
off-key
and
all-over-the-place,
like
an
out
of
tune
guitar.
But
the
words
I
say
are
clear.

“
Because
she’s
most
likely
been
using you
this
whole
time.
”

*****

We
explained
everything
to
Sasha.
Well,
I
say
that,
but
it
was
really
just
Jeffrey
talking
over
Sasha’s
persistent
threats,
which
continued
escalating
into
increasingly
violent
and
gory
heights.

We
concluded
that
Jeffrey’s
going
to
return
his
phone
to
him
when
he
goes
back
to
Bath.
We
don’t
need
it
anymore;
we’ve
got
the
information
we
needed.
That
was
it
really,
after
Sasha
vowed
that
our
information
changed
nothing and
he
was
still
going
to
rip
our
limbs
off.

I’m
at
a
loss.
Sasha
and
Kaylie
were
both
on
my
suspects
list.
Sasha
knew
enough
about
Becky
and
Jayce
to
have
made
a
perfect
suspect
–
he
could
have
easily
been
sending
those
messages.
And
he
had
a
motive
as
well;
he
could
have
been
doing
this
out
of
the
guilt
of
killing
Becky.
But
now
the
messages
prove
that
he’s
not
Becky.
She
was
using
him
too.
  I
suspected
Kaylie,
mainly
because
Jayce
found
that
she
was
carrying
Becky’s
phone.
The
messages
say
that
Sasha
put
the
phone
in
Kaylie’s
bag.
If
Kaylie
was
Becky,
then
that
means
she
gave
Sasha
the
phone
just
to
give
it
back
to
her.
That’s
stupid.
So
I
guess
Kaylie
might
be
innocent
too.

I
can’t
help feeling
drawn
to
all of
this.

I’m
going
to
solve
this
case
myself.
I’m
going
to
find
out
why
Becky
needed
Jayce
to
kidnap
me.
How
she
did
everything. Who
she
really
is.

Everything.

2:42
PM

I
’ve
been
sat
here
looking
through
the
messages
for
the past couple of hours
. I’m
determined to work this
out.

“
Can
we
just
leave
it
now,
Alicia?
”
Jeffrey
unexpectedly
pipes
up
after
a
long
silence
between
us
whilst
I’ve
been
looking
back
through
Sasha
and
Becky’s
texts.
“
This
isn’t
healthy.
You’ve
been
sat
there
staring
at
that
phone
for
hours.
You’ve
only
just
got
away
from
him
and
you’re
suddenly
obsessing
over
him and
this
Becky
person.
”

I
pay
Jeffrey
no
attention.
He
is
sitting
on
the
other
side
of
the
bed.
He
was
looking
over
my
shoulder
and
reading
the
messages
earlier,
but
then
he
started
getting
annoying
with
all
of
his
rubbish
theories
about
what
must
have
happened
and
who
Becky
is,
that
are
nowhere
near
the
truth
(
“
maybe
Jayce
is
just
texting
himself
pretending
to
be
Becky!
I
knew
he
was
crazy
right
from
the
start!
”
)
So
I
sentenced
him
to
a
'time
out'
on
the
other
side
of
the
bed
for
half
an
hour.

He breaks his time out and
comes
over
again.

“
Nope.
Go
back
to
your
time
out.
You've
still
got
another
five
minutes.
”

He
laughs
then
grabs
me
by
the
shoulders
and
shakes
me,
making
me
looking
up
from
the
phone.
He
looks
right
at
me
with
those
bright
blue
eyes.
I feel something fluttering in my stomach and feel my cheeks burning up.

“
It’s
in
the past; you
need
to
forget
about
him.
”

He gives me
a
small smile, and something strange happens.
That fluttering
feeling
is
still
going
on
in
my
stomach.
I
find
myself
twisting
my
hands
together
and
I
can
feel
my
hands
clamming
up.
I
wish
he’d
look
away;
it’s
giving
me
this
strange prickling
feeling
all
over.

“
Come
on,
let’s
go
out.
I
want
to
see
more
of
Elmview
.
I'm
not
here
for
long.
”
I’m
all
too
conscious
of
the
fact
that
he’s
still
staring
at
me.
I
feel
my
cheeks
burn
up
again
and
I
quickly
look
away
.

*****

7:20
PM

It
was
nice,
spending
time
with
Jeffrey.
We
went
to
the
High
Street,
drifted
in
and
out
of
a
few
shops.
We
picked
up
lunch
from
the
bakery
and
ate
on
a
bench
in
Elmview
Park.
Sandwiches
aren’t
exactly
pasta,
and
although at
first
I
was
hesitant, they actually
tasted
all
right.

I
like
listening
to
Jeffrey.
He doesn’t
blabber
on
like
Jayce
did
at
the
speed
of
light
about
the
most
random
and
irrelevant
things.
He’s
got
a
soft,
quiet
voice
that
always
stays
the
same
volume
and
he
speaks
calmly
and
slowly.
H
e
looks
so
carefree
and
relaxed,
he’s
got
mountains
of
time
and
nothing
to
do
with
it.
He
talks
to
me
about
himself,
about
Bath.
He
told
me
he’s
been
singing
since
the
age
of
four
and
was
in
the
choristers
at
the
Abbey
for
five
years.
He’s
hoping to get a music scholarship
at
the
end
of
this
year.
He
talked
about everything
really.
It was... nice.

He’s
walking
me
back
home
now.

As
we
draw
in
closer,
my
eyes
suddenly
focus
on
a
familiar
figure
in
the
distance:
a
curvy
girl
just
a
little
taller
than
me,
with
her
bright
blue
hair
tied
up
in
her
usual
high
ponytail
with
perfect
ringlets
tumbling
right
down
her
back.
She’s
clad
in
her
signature
black
leather
jacket
with
black
jeans
and
biker boots. Kaylie.
Stone cold dread rushes right through me.

There’s
only
one
thing
different
about
her:
she’s
holding
a
sleeping
toddler.
The
toddler
looks
no
older
than
t
wo
and
her
black
hair
is
pushed
up
into
two
high
pigtails.
She’s
wearing
a
bright
pink
duffel coat and
pink trousers
and
there’s
an
old,
dirty
and
tattered
rabbit
toy
hanging
from one
arm.

I
try
to
shuffle
around
her,
hoping
I
can
escape
without
her
seeing
me,
but
she
turns
around
just
when
we
pass.
I
expect
her
to
start
yelling
at
me
or
to
hit
me
or
do
something
to
show
me
how
much
she
hates
me
.
But
instead,
her face remains unchanged,
completely impassive.