Page 36 of What Lies in the Woods

“You didn’t argue with her yesterday?”

“Argue with her? Who told you that?” I asked. It was the wrong response. Bishop’s eyes hardened.

“What were you arguing about?” she asked.

“Nothing.” Except that we had argued—about Persephone.

Liv had found Persephone, and Cass and I had tried to talk her out of saying anything. I’d been out in the woods that night. Bishop was already looking at me like I was a suspect. Telling her we’d hidden a body for twenty years would hardly make me less suspicious.

“Naomi?” Bishop said. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

I started to open my mouth—and the door opened. Officer Dougherty stepped in and widened his eyes in an expression of exaggerated surprise. “Naomi, honey. You’re still here? You ought to be getting some rest, poor thing.”

Since the last time I’d seen him, Dougherty had put on some weight around his middle and lost it from his cheeks, which were cadaverouslyhollow. He sported a gray mustache of the kind that only existed in hipster bars and towns like this.

My memories of the man were hazy. He’d just been a junior member of the department when I was a kid, but he’d risen through the ranks rapidly—not that it was hard when the number of officers in the department was in the single digits. Miller had been grooming him as the next chief for ages, and I still couldn’t quite believe the city had brought in an outsider instead. Judging by the looks that passed between Dougherty and Bishop, he couldn’t believe it either.

“We’re just going over a few details, Officer Dougherty,” Bishop said levelly. If Dougherty detected the warning in her voice, he gave no sign.

“You got her statement already, Monica,” he said. A tendon in Bishop’s jaw twitched. NoChieforBossfrom Dougherty. “And her ride’s waiting on her. I think we ought to let the poor girl take off, don’t you?”

My ride—he must mean Ethan. Ethan, who’d talked to the police while I shivered in the passenger seat of my car, and insisted they let me have some time and some dry clothes before they asked me any questions. When he’d asked for my keys I’d handed them over without question, and I realized with a start that he still had them.

“I’ll let you know when we’re finished here,” Bishop said to Dougherty.

“Well, that’s your call,” Dougherty said, nodding. Friendly as anything. Condescending as hell. “Did you know, I’ve known these girls since they were yea high?” he added, leveling a hand below his hip. His tone was warning, and his message was clear. Bishop was a newcomer. For all my faults, I belonged to Chester. “Damn shame, all of this. But it’s pretty clear-cut.”

“It is?” I asked. The corner of Bishop’s mouth twitched with annoyance.

“It’s a tragedy, is what it is,” Dougherty said. “Any time someone takes their own life, it’s a tragedy.”

“You think she killed herself,” I said. “Then why—” I cut my eyes to Bishop, who was sitting with her lips pressed together. I looked between them in confusion. “I thought—the questions you were asking—”

“If she shot herself, the gun should be at the scene,” Bishop said. “We haven’t located it.”

“We don’t know where exactly she was standing when she died,” Dougherty said. “The body would have drifted some. We’re checking the bottom of the pond, but it’ll take a while.”

“In her previous attempt, she overdosed on prescription pills,” Bishop said. “Using a gun is a lot more unusual for a woman. Especially one who isn’t comfortable around guns.”

“A determined person will use whatever they can get their hands on, in my experience,” Dougherty said, and that false friendliness was wearing off, revealing the burr of irritation beneath. “And the pills were locked up.”

“In the same safe as the gun, which doesn’t seem to have been properly secured one way or the other,OfficerDougherty,” Bishop said. Dougherty lifted his hands as if in surrender, ducking his head.

“So you don’tknowit was suicide,” I said. I felt like I was lurching to and fro. I couldn’t tell which answer I wanted. Which one would be worse.

“Hon, there was a note,” Dougherty said. “Her mother found it about an hour ago.” He reached into his pocket and drew out a clear plastic bag. Bishop made an abrupt gesture as if to stop him, fury in her eyes, but I had no attention to spare for their power struggle. A single sheet of white paper was inside, creased at the center like it had been folded. He set it gently onto the table beside me. The letters were shaky, oversized, and slewed across the page so much I barely recognized Liv’s handwriting.

I’m sorry. I know that I should be strong, but I can’t anymore. I’m tired of feeling like this. I’m tired of lying. I can’t keep doing it.

I’m going to be with Persephone now. We never finished. That means this makes seven. It can finally be over. I’m sorry.

Liv

I reached out, my fingers brushing the cool plastic. There was a note. That was that, then. Liv was gone. She’d broken her promise to me. And I’d broken my promise to be there for her when she needed it.

Except this wasn’t right. It didn’t make sense. She wouldn’t have used the gun. And if she was going out to the woods to be with Persephone, why had she been at the pond?

“Who is Persephone?” Bishop asked.

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