Page 38 of Forgotten

That bitch.

Stomping back to the Millers’, I went inside and found Tamara’s keys, grabbing them and heading for the door. I was sure she’d understand when she found out. I just needed them for a few minutes.

Long enough to look Trish in the eyes and decide whether or not I was going to throw her ass through a window.

I revved the engine and took off, trying to remember where the jail was. I knew it was all one building and had been renovated but was essentially in the same lot the old jail had been. I’d only been there once, as a field trip by a DARE officer, who wanted to keep us off meth or something. It had been terrifying then, and that was when Old Man Anderson was still just a deputy in the force and only Eugene had joined as a rookie.

Thankfully, there were signs along the road downtown, what counted as downtown in Foley anyway, and I followed them to the jail. The courthouse was across the street, and the sheriff’s office was next to the jail. I parked in the visitor’s parking lot and locked the car up before heading inside, my eyes blazing and scanning for Trish.

What I saw when I walked in the door shocked me and froze me where I stood.

Trish wasn’t in the room, and neither were any of the Anderson boys. Instead, there were two young rookie deputies and a woman. Someone I had hoped never to see again. She turned to me with a disdainful look and scoffed a laugh.

“Lacey Banks,” I said, almost under my breath. “What are you doing here?”

“Charlotte,” she said. “I thought you wised up and moved to Oklahoma or something. Are you here for Jesse?”

She sounded shocked, and I hated the condescension in her smile.

“Where is he?”

“He’s locked up, of course,” Lacey said. “Where he belongs.”

“Jesse does not belong in jail,” I said. “Is this your doing? Did you get them to arrest him?”

She laughed again, and I felt like smacking her right there. How dare she be so flippant?

“No,” she said. “No, Jesse got into this mess all by himself. Punched a cop, if you can believe it. And I know you can. Oh, you know how Jesse gets. Violent and angry. It’s why I could never actually allow him near our child. He’s not trustworthy.”

“He said that baby can’t be his,” I said. “You’re a liar.”

“Me?” she scoffed. “Am I the one who dated every girl in Louisa county and then ghosted half of them once he got in their pants? Am I the one who is willing to lie about his relationship status to get another girl in his grip? Am I the one who is literally known as being the bad boy of Foley, Texas?

“No, Charlotte. I am avictim. You are too. You should be on my side. Jesse screwed you over too.”

“Jesse hasn’t screwed me over,” I said, unsure if that was actually the truth in retrospect.

“Oh, babygirl, yes he did,” she said, sarcasm dripping off her voice like wet paint. “He got in your pants, didn’t he? Gave you a little of that old Galloway pipe?”

“You’re disgusting.”

“No,Jesseis disgusting. That whole family is disgusting. They’re all a bunch of liars and thieves. Jesse just happens to be the worst. I have proof that baby is his. Let me guess, he says he didn’t ever sleep with me, doesn’t he?”

I nodded.

“Look,” she said, pulling out her phone. She scrolled through until she found what she was looking for and then turned it so I could see.

It was a screenshot of a message thread. At the top, the name saidJesse, and the conversation had clearly been flirtatious. Timestamps showed the time and date, and Lacey pointed at one of the messages, where Jesse thanked her for a lovely eveningand asked if she was able to walk correctly, and clicked the screen with her finely manicured nails.

“This right here, that’s when the baby was conceived,” she said. “That night. It was exactly eight months, three weeks and four days before I gave birth. Jesse knocked me up that night, and then… nothing. He never responded to another text. He never answered another call.”

“And you just told the hospital the baby was his and they took your word for it?”

She shrugged. “They knew I wasn’t lying. I was so ashamed he wasn’t there. He should have manned up and been there, Charlotte. But that’s not who Jesse is. He’s a deadbeat. He deserves to be in jail. He deserves to be miserable for all the misery he’s caused all over Texas. Including what he’s done to you. I just hope you wake up and see it.”

I paused for a moment, and then looked at her critically.

The perfect hair, perfect nails, high heels. Fantastic figure, a bare midriff that showed no signs of stretch marks or scars. Something felt… off.

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