Murder's Not Cool Read online

  “Of course, there was no way in hell my parents would have let a twelve-year-old girl go off on her own to the big city—so I had to get rid of them! It didn’t help the four of you were butting your noses in and everything! Sure, we’re friends, but not that close! You meant well, but you were bugging me out. So I had to get you guys off my back, too. That’s when you found my ‘body’ that afternoon! Yeah, Joyce—I’ll bet you noticed it wasn’t a real body that when you started your little ‘investigation.’ I heard everything you told my Mom before I shot her, and you all figured that out pretty quick. You all got brains and balls more than I was willing to credit to you, it seems.

  “Anyhow, I made up that dummy, put my clothes on it, roughed it up so you’d think my Mom abused me, and threw it off the Bluff.

  “And Sheldon, I’m sorry I had to lay you up and make you lame like that, but you knew too damn much, man! I was always in the shadows when I was ‘dead.’ and I followed you four freaks around town and laughed my ass off while you tried to ‘investigate’ my ‘murder.’ But, Sheldon, you got too close. That night on the Bluff when that lumber truck hit you was the night I decided to off my stepdad. That gunshot you heard, that was me killing him. But you were right in range of the truck, and you would have rushed over and gotten the guys to expose me if you had figured that out. So I just had to get you out of the way, you understand? I nearly killed you, and, if you had died, things might have turned out differently. But you had to survive, didn’t you?

  “Now, as it happened, my stepdad took a while to die. I shot him a couple of times in the leg and left him on the road to die, but, as far as I can tell, he’s still alive and he’ll probably make it. My mother, now, is a different story. She’s never gonna lord it over me again! I shot her, and I’m glad, ’cause I was goddamn tired of being her servant all the time. You guys never knew that, since you never saw us when we were alone, but she was the greatest tyrant in history. And now her reign is at an end!”

  We let Francy have a few moments of hysterical laughter before she calmed down, and then it was time for our assessment of our problem.

  “You’ve done some really dumb stuff here, Franc!” I said. “Bad enough you faked your death and freaked out everybody who cared about you, but you had to go shoot up your stepdad and kill your Mom just ’cause you wanted a life of your own! Couldn’t you have at least waited a few years? Then you could have made your escape the way the rest of us probably will—in a legal way!”

  “So I did wrong,” Francy spat back. “I’ll just do a stint in Juvie and then I can go off and live my life the way I want!”

  “It’s a lot more serious than that, Frances!” snapped Joyce, at the boiling point. “They’re going to put you away for a long time for this, and with the big girls, yet!”

  “Besides which,” an equally furious Babs said as she cocked a fist in Francy’s direction, “when you get out of stir, provided you do, you sure as hell better not come back to Rock Cove any time soon, or else a certain group of ex -friends will be more than likely to kick you back out! Right, Harry?”

  “Doggone right!” was all Harry could say, but that alone spoke volumes about what all of us had endured over the past few months.

  We waited until dawn and then marched Francy, under threat of a beat down from our own personal fists, to the police station where she made a complete confession of everything she had done.

  8.

  Once again, Rock Cove was descended upon by the media, but this time, it had more of a positive spin on it. Well, most of it, anyway. The write-up in the Spokane paper read:

  SMALL TOWN WASHINGTON MURDER FOILED BY INTREPID PRE-TEENS

  Murderer forced to confess to heinous crime.

  Rock Cove, Wa. (AP): It was generally assumed that the murder of local pre-teen Frances “Francy” Goldenson was an open-and-shut case. That is, until her friends got on the case.

  Local pre-teen investigators Sheldon Roth, Harry Washington, Barbara O’Connell and Joyce Bashevis forced Ms. Goldenson, a classmate and friend, to confess that she was responsible for the murder of her mother, Angela, in cold blood, as well as for a vicious assault and shooting of her stepfather, Jay Goldenson, a local garage owner. Ms. Goldenson had originally been presumed to have been murdered due to the discovery of a “body” resembling her that has now been revealed to have been a fabrication on her part.

  On the discovery of the “body” by the soon-to-be sleuths, it was presumed to have been the work of a perceived “pervert,” leading to an extensive investigation by both U.S. and Canadian police. All clues at that time came up with nothing.

  The four young adults pursued avenues not focused upon by the official authorities. They found clues that pointed to Ms. Goldenson and confronted her, leading to the confession.

  “She was in a state of denial and refused to accept responsibility for what she had done,” said young Ms. Bashevis. “We simply made her aware of her error and forced her to take responsibility for her actions.”

  “I’m glad it’s over now,” young Mr. Roth added. “It was getting to be a major pain for all of us.”

  You would think it was flattering, and I thought so, even if my friends didn’t.

  “They only mentioned me once!” Harry said bitterly.

  “At least they got your name right!” Babs said. “My name is Babs, not Barbara! BABS! Why can’t these people get their facts straight?”

  “They’ll get their facts straight before they stop referring to us with that condescending ‘young’ label!” Joyce added. “I can understand them using it for Sheldon, but not me!”

  “Hey!” I added, insulted. Then I finished up with, “We should just be grateful they gave us any credit for it at all. You know adults don’t want to admit that we’re smarter than they are. It would blow their minds if they knew! And they own the media, remember?”

  “Yeah!” Joyce said. “All we can hope for is that they treat us more fairly next time.”

  “Next time?” I said quizzically.

  All Joyce said in her cryptic way confirmed her confidence in what she had previously uttered:

  “Yep.”