Page 75 of Little Last Words

Vanessa looked at the bottle of chardonnay, which was now empty, and sighed. “After Zachary and I broke up, I started dating someone else, like I told you. What I didn’t mention is that the relationship with the other guy didn’t last long.”

“Why not?”

“I think he was intrigued by me at the start because I was a virgin. He talked about it a few times, before we … you know, had sex. Red flag. I know. I was young and stupid. Afterward, everything changed, and it wasn’t long before he stopped talking to me altogether. I was embarrassed and humiliated. I’d been gushing about him to everyone. The last thing I wanted to do was admit he dropped me after we had sex. For a while I told people we were still together even though we weren’t.”

I leaned back, taking it all in. “How does any of this information relate to Penelope, her plans after high school, and the lake?”

“All of this happened at the same time, right before graduation. Penelope had just broken up with Zachary, and I decided to stop by her house one night to see how she was doing. When I got there, I saw her car in the driveway. I parked behind it, and as soon as I stepped out, I looked up and noticed the lamp in her bedroom was on. The window was open, and she’d drawn the curtains, but they were made of a sheer material, which made it kind of easy to make out silhouettes when the light was on.”

“What did you see?” I asked.

“Penelope had her back to the window, and she was talking to someone—Zachary. Or so I thought. The next thing I know, the robe or whatever she was wearing came off, and she was naked. My first instinct was to leave, catch up with her another time.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t. Penelope moved away from the window, and I heard what sounded like, well … like they were having sex. I mean, it was obvious. I know they were.”

“What did you do?”

“I stood there, wondering why she’d lied to me about their breakup, and why he’d rejected me when I wanted to have sex, but he didn’t seem to have any problem having it with her. When we were dating, he went so far as to tell me he planned to wait until marriage before he had sex. So, yeah, I was pissed.”

“Did you confront them?”

She shook her head. “I left.”

“And then?”

“I stewed on it for about a week, and I waited, thinking I’d give her some time to come clean and tell me what happened. When she didn’t, I called her up and invited her to the lake for a swim. I drove, and when we got there, she wasted no time stripping down to her bikini and getting into the water. I swam up behind her, and that’s when I confronted her about what I saw. And then I … I, uhh … did something I’ve always regretted.”

Head shaking, she pressed a hand to her lips.

“What did you do, Vanessa?” I asked.

“Penelope kept denying the whole thing, and I flipped out. She started begging me to give her a chance to explain, but I was too angry to listen. Of all the people in my life, I never thought she would be dishonest with me. She kept trying to talk over me, so I reached out, grabbed her by the hair, and pushed her face into the water. Except … it was for a little longer than it should have been. I wasn’t going to, you know, kill her. I just wanted to—”

I heard some rustling in the hallway and turned to see a wide-eyed Zachary and Whitlock staring at Vanessa. Zachary had a pair of house keys dangling from his finger. I had no idea how long they’d been standing there, but they looked as shocked as I was about the confession she’d just made.

“You didwhatnow?” Zachary asked.

“How long have you, uhh … how long have you both been standing there?” Vanessa asked.

“Long enough to hear everything you just said about almost drowning Penelope.”

“I wasn’t trying to drown her,” Vanessa said.

Zachary entered the living room and stood in front of Vanessa, his arms crossed in front of him. “How could you keep something like that from me?”

“I’m sorry. I was ashamed. Given how private she was, I never thought Penelope told anyone. But I guess she told her dad, and who knows who else.”

I thought about clearing up that minor detail, but I didn’t.

It was clear there was more to the story I hadn’t heard yet.

“I don’t know who you saw in the window that night, but it wasn’t me,” Zachary said.

“I know it wasn’t you,” Vanessa said. “Once I calmed down, she told me so.”

“If it wasn’t Zachary, who was it?” I asked.