The Massett Mysteries: Chapter Two

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Photo courtesy of googleimages

Anna Claire Boone, Staff Writer

Our house was across a field that extended from the football stadium. I could see the entrance to the locker rooms from my kitchen window. Sometimes instead of sitting with Wade’s friends at lunch, I’d steal away to the small circle of trees by the locker rooms. The stadium, auditorium, and parking lot were visible from this spot, but it was secluded enough that most people wouldn’t notice someone sitting in the trees. I had returned to my hiding spot several times throughout the week, looking onto the place where my brother died, remembering and wondering, and this is where I was headed Tuesday evening, seven days after Wade’s death. As I approached my trees, I noticed a couple of kids huddled near the back of the school. I peered around one of the trees and saw that it was Maggie and Isabel. They were sort of kneeling and facing each other, their hands clasped and heads bowed. Maggie was murmuring softly. I stood, observing, for a minute more until the murmuring stopped and Maggie looked up with a thoughtful look in her eye. She caught sight of me behind the tree and stood up. Isabel turned and did the same.
“Hey,” said Maggie. I stayed behind my tree. “Bella and I have come back here a few times this past week … to pray. We actually saw you a few days ago behind those trees, but, uh, we decided not to bother you.” A somber beat.
Isabel spoke up. “Do you want to?”
“Want to what?” I asked.
“Pray.” She gestured down to the spot where she and her friend had been.
“Oh,” I took a step back and put my hands in my pocket, “no.”
Isabel nodded and then glanced towards Maggie. “Sorry for breaking into your little property,” said Isabel with a small smile in a tone that sounded more friendly and light than apologetic. “We were just about to get going.” Isabel grabbed her keys which were on the dirt next to her feet, and the two girls made their way past me and the trees.
Maggie paused briefly to say: “Let us know if you need anything. We’d love to talk to you sometime. I know this week has been … hectic. And I think we’re all glad for everything quieting down. It can be pretty intruding when people are constantly trying to offer you condolences and stuff—of course, they mean well, but there’s only so much words can do, you know?” Nobody spoke. I looked down. She continued, ever sincerely, “Yeah. Of course you know. I don’t need to tell you all this. But yeah, just say the word. I hope … I hope you’re getting better. We’re all gonna get through this.” Our eyes met for a moment and I knew that every word she said, she truly believed. “Okay, we’re going to pick up Gabe and head to the soccer game tonight. Will we see you there?”
The image of me attending a function as chaotic and crammed as a soccer game—especially after this week—left a bad taste in my mouth, and the taste worsened when I thought of being in this situation with the added presence of Gabe Garduno. I averted my eyes to the grass and then the school. “Uh, I don’t think so. Not really my crowd.”
Maggie gave a small, polite laugh. “See you tomorrow, Taylor.”
Isabel said, “Bye, Taylor.” We locked eyes for a few seconds and a strange wave of emotions passed through hers. I noticed that her cheekbones were more prominent than usual, and she looked tired. I wondered what was happening in her mind. She blinked. And then they were off to Isabel’s car.
I stayed enclosed in the trees for a while longer, maybe half an hour, maybe more.

Four o’clocks on Tuesdays were my session times with Lydia, and you can imagine what we talked about that Tuesday—grief, loss, coping, trauma. (We’d be talking about those things for longer than we’d initially anticipated.) She had told me about when she had lost her father suddenly to an unexpected stroke and how tragedies in people’s lives can’t be compared and everyone experiences loss in different ways. I hadn’t listened to much of what she was saying, and she had commented at the end of the session on my “not being responsive.” I had apologized, and she had reassured me that it was okay but to work on that this week. My mind was preoccupied. Another thing Lydia and I had talked about was how things would get easier once they quieted down, and sometimes the best thing for a person in mourning is routine—life calming down into its regular schedule. Funny that Maggie mentioned that, too, and funny that she implied the world was already settling back down for us because the brief tranquility that came with Ellis High School’s recovery from Wade’s death was demolished about ten minutes after Maggie and Isabel left for Gabe Garduno’s house. Gabe had been the one to find Wade’s mutilated body a week prior, and this time, like a curse, the two girls took Gabe’s place—as Gabe took Wade’s.

The Garduno’s house had been broken into around 6:00 p.m. that night: the lock on the back door was picked. The open door was the only sign of entry, and Maggie and Isabel didn’t suspect foul play until they came across the body. The police had no doubts marking Gabe’s death as a homicide. The shattered vase around his head, the freshly swollen eye, and the arm popped out of place suggested an intense physical fight had taken place before the criminal claimed its victory. The wail that Maggie let out when she found Gabriel Garduno beaten to a pulp, lifeless on the second story of his parents’ house, could have been heard around the world.

Seven days. Only a week between the two killings … were they related? Was Ellis County under the threat of a serial killer? Or were the murders two separate works, randomly coinciding in their times? Nobody in Ellis knew which option was worse.
I’ll go ahead and spoil this: there was only one butcher behind these two slaughters. I knew it even then. It was too similar—Ellis’s two varsity stars, one a hero and the other a bully, now both dead. There could be no mistake that the victims were intentional. Somebody was trying to send Ellis County a message, and Ellis County was receiving it loud and clear.

Gabe’s death affected the school slightly differently than Wade’s had. It tends to be a predicament when somebody who was widely disliked dies before his time. There was another memorial, but this time, attendees were mostly victims of the deceased instead of faithful admirers. There were not nearly as many kind words to use in regard to Gabe as there were to Wade, so Isabel constructed a respectful speech honoring mostly his athletic achievements. What a sad fate, to leave behind a legacy only of materialistic accomplishments, to die and not strike any devastation into the hearts of your peers. It was a shame for such a young, talented child to die, but possibly a greater shame was how that child had lived.
I mostly pitied Maggie and Isabel—they had to bear the weight of discovering the crime in their already fragile state. However, each of the girls would become stronger soon, as one is forced to become when faced with the trials the girls would soon experience.

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