Chapter Three
Lexington Robinson didn't hear about the killings until they became the most trending story across the internet. For all the news outlets in the Dallas area, it was the blessing of the year to be able to write about such a hot new subject. Everyone was rushing to hear the details, to spread the word and take all the publicity they could get. The whispers were everywhere, from work to her own dinner table. It seemed all people could talk about was a brutal set of homicides without ever getting tired of it.
The police hadn't released too many details, but the gossip circling gave just the right amount of insight. It made her nauseous to hear the specifics. Lexi had always been queasy about blood.
She walked into the kitchen two days after the third murder. Her aunt was watching the news on a small, boxy TV that rested on the counter next to the toaster. Every so often, she would tweak the antennas, trying to get the best sound.
"Dammit," Delaney swore in her deep Texan drawl. She smacked the top of the TV set, annoyed. "I keep getting bad reception."
Quinton Robinson, who was sitting at the table twirling his spoon through a bowl of stale cheerios snorted. "Aunt Delaney, the TV ain't worth shit. Go get another one."
"We don't have the money for that," she reminded him, indignantly taking a bite of her toast.
Lex faintly made out the broadcaster's grave tone. The woman stood in front of a rundown motel with a mic in her hands, her voice droning on amid a static sound erupting from the small speakers on the television set. Lexi wondered if Aunt Delaney would give up and turn the damn thing off, but it seemed unlikely.
"Morning, Delaney," Lex said, wandering toward the fridge.
"Good morning, Lexi," Delaney replied, her gaze fixed on the screen. "Have you been keeping up with this?"
"Nah." Lexi unscrewed the cap on the carton of orange juice. "I like to mind my own business."
"I mind my business just fine," Aunt Delaney protested.
"Says the woman who knows the gossip about everyone on the street," Quinton chimed in.
Delaney raised a spatula threateningly. "That's not true, Q. I'm getting too old for this."
"You're only thirty-three," Lexi said, fighting a laugh.
"I feel older," Delaney argued.
"Okay then," Quinton said, raising his eyebrows. He dumped what was left of his soggy cereal in the sink and kissed both women on the cheek. "I better get to my lecture."
"Didn't that start thirty minutes ago?" Lexi asked, checking the clock.
Quinton smiled cheekily. "Yup."
His red hair, the same auburn shade Lexi shared with him, peeked out from under the brim of the worn Astros cap he never left the house without. He kept it backward at all times, and it drove Lexi crazy whenever he did it.
"Would you fix your damn hat?" Lexi called after him.
"Never!" He was out the door before anyone could reply, pulling it closed behind him with a thud.
"That boy," Delaney remarked. "I'm telling you, he's gonna get fired from every job he ever has."
"Definitely," Lexi agreed.
"Are you working this morning?" Delaney asked.
She nodded. "Unfortunately."
"Well, don't say it like that."
"Billing people and making phone calls isn't exactly fun," Lexi deadpanned.
"But it pays," Delaney said.
"So does stripping, but I'm not about to do that either."
"Lexington!"
"Yes?"
"You and your brother are nothing but troublemakers."
"Always have been and always will be," said Lexi. "I'll see you tonight."
Within a few hours, everyone in the Robinson household would be out and about, running errands and heading to work. Well, everyone except Quinton, who would be coming home after class and playing video games for the afternoon. He was only twenty, so he got a free pass. The family would be shocked if he ever grew up. That was Q, always young, always full of energy.
Lexi wasn't sure how he did it. He seemed so carefree while she worried about everything. Her student loans were piling, and she was forced to work the terrible desk job at the medical center to keep up with them. She was lucky that her parents were letting her live with them so long as she paid rent, but she hated that she wasn't more independent.
Then again, how could she be? All things considered, Lexi was a liability by herself.
It was a warm autumn day in Texas. Temperatures didn't drop until December, so it would probably be in the high seventies for another few weeks. Lex had just turned twenty-four, but she still found herself in a state of childlike excitement when the leaves changed color.
She got into her battered Toyota, which was parked at the far end of the driveway under a giant oak tree older than she was. The air conditioner barely worked, so she kept her windows down as she drove to the hospital, which was only a few miles off the freeway. She never saw herself as a nine-to-five kind of girl, but that was exactly where she found herself.
Even the radio was fixated on the killings. She knew there had to be plenty of murders every day, and plenty of dead people to cover, but the whole state must've been fixated on this one crime spree. She settled for a country station, losing herself in heavy guitar melodies instead of morbid journalism.
She adjusted the watch on her wrist, a new gift from her aunt. The weight of it was comfortable, reassuring. Delaney had said a proper watch was a gateway to adulthood. Lexi wasn't sure if that was true, but she happily traded in her old G-Shock for the newer model.
Her head was pounding. She got headaches quite regularly, and it didn't help that it was a particularly bright day in Dallas. She fumbled for her sunglasses, but the familiar pair didn't do much to help her. She'd been having migraines since she was a little kid. It was a product of the same accident that landed Delaney's old boyfriend in jail.
She didn't want to think about that. There were parts of her childhood that were better left unacknowledged, left in a locked box and thoroughly compartmentalized.
Lexi took some aspirin when she got into the parking lot, slurping the capsules down with some lukewarm coffee. She hoped that it would help her focus because she couldn't afford to take a day off again this week.
She worked in the outpatient facility for the elderly at a desk she shared with a pudgy older woman named Dorothy.
A Tupperware of fresh chocolate chip cookies waited for Lexi with a birthday card resting on top of the lid. She felt the corners of her mouth lift as she recognized Dorothy's familiar flowery script.
"Thank you," Lex said, beaming at Dorothy. "I appreciate it."
"I'm sorry it was a bit late," Dorothy apologized.
"It's perfect," Lexi assured her.
"I hope you like chocolate. I wasn't sure if I should make cookies or cupcakes."
"I know I'll love them and my brother will too. He eats everything."
"You better hide them, then," Dorothy replied. "You have a few messages waiting for you, by the way. The boss is calling us in for a meeting in a few hours, but he wanted the work done before then."
Lexi hated her boss from the moment she met him. What made it worse was that she couldn't seem to remember his name for the life of her during the first week, which meant most of the time she referred to him as "the boss" and left it at that. Phil was an asshole, constantly piling on extra things for her to do, as if she wasn't busy enough.
"I can take a few messages," Dorothy offered, reading Lex's expression.
"It's fine," Lexi said. "I got it."
She checked the first note, dialed the number, and put on her best customer service voice. Most people didn't respond well to being told they owed money to a hospital, so she had to do her best to be patient. At least it was easy. That was her only consolation.
She and Dorothy made small talk when they weren't busy taking calls. Lexi listened to stories about the grandkids, occasionally chiming in with a joke Quinton told her. She was grateful to have a friend to work with. It made the day go faster.
Around noon, they were startled out of their chatter when Dan, a man who worked in another apartment, showed up at the front desk with a grim expression on his face.
"What's wrong?" Lexi asked, cocking her head.
"Phil's out today," he reported. "His brother was the victim killed the other day. He just found out. The staff meeting's been canceled."
"Oh, God," Dorothy said, cupping her hands over her mouth. "Poor guy! How long is he going to be gone?"
"I don't know," Dan answered. "Probably a while. I can't imagine what he must be going through."
"Neither can I," said Dorothy. "I'll keep him in my prayers."
Lex frowned, looking down at the papers fanned out on the table in front of her. She felt a little bad, yes, but she was mostly confused. It seemed so odd that a crime like that could affect anyone she knew. The tragedy seemed so distant before now. Now, it had become real.
"My sister knows a gal whose daughter was on campus the night the kid died," Dorothy whispered to Lexi after Dan walked away. "They closed it down for a few days while the cops were around. I heard the FBI is getting involved."
"The FBI?" Lex repeated, surprised. "What do they have to do with this?"
"I guess that's what happens when things get too big for the cops to handle," Dorothy said with a shrug. "It makes me sad that anyone would ever do something like this. Can you imagine that? I don't think I could ever be capable of anything like this."
Lexi glanced at her nails, which were stained with dried blood. She'd woken up with it caked under them a couple of days ago without the slightest idea where it had come from. Even despite vigorous scrubbing, it hadn't completely come out. It worried her. Then again, a lot of things worried her these days.
"Me neither," she said quietly. She hoped it was true.
* * *
The migraine never went away. Lexi spent the rest of the afternoon discreetly massaging her temple, but it did nothing to make the pounding relent. She was miserable, attempting to look on the bright side. Optimism wasn't one of her skills, but she tried to pretend it was.
Family dinners were a tradition ever since she was a little kid. Her mother was cooking pot roast tonight, and her stomach grumbled when she got a whiff of it coming from the kitchen. Lexi plopped down next to Quinton on the couch, tucking her feet under her folded legs. She helped herself to a handful of his popcorn, ignoring his pointed glare.
"What are we watching?" she asked.
"Post-season highlights," he said. "Maybe the Astros will make the World Series this year."
"Maybe," she said.
When the commercials rolled, he pushed off the couch. "I'm gonna get another beer. Want one?"
"Sure," she replied.
They cracked open bottles of Budweiser, clinking the glass together before they each took a sip. Baseball games and beer were a Robinson tradition, even though Quinton wasn't technically old enough to drink yet. Lex reclined back into her seat easily, relieved to kick her shoes off and relax.
"How was your class?" she asked.
"Haylee Carter sits in front of me," Quinton answered with a smirk. "I'm gonna get her number by the end of this year."
"Yeah, right."
"I already have her Snapchat. It's a matter of time," he argued.
"In your dreams."
"Oh, she's already there," he said, wiggling his brows.
"You're disgusting," she said, shoving at his bicep playfully. "I'm gonna vomit."
"You should be nicer," he told her, munching on his popcorn. "She could be your sister-in-law."
"You wouldn't know commitment if it hit you upside the head!"
"Not true!"
"Oh, please. It so is, and you know it. I'll say hi when she's doing the walk of shame."
Plenty of girls had crept past Lexi's room in the dead of night, so she wouldn't be surprised if this poor girl made it into the line-up. She loved her brother, but he could be absolutely disgusting.
"You need to lighten up," Quinton decided. "When was the last time you got laid?"
"Quinton, what the hell?" she sputtered.
He shrugged. "Just asking. Wanna come to a frat party next weekend and fix your situation?"
"No," she said quickly. "That sounds awful."
"You're a buzzkill. So lame."
"Sorry?"
The game came back on, and he finally left her alone. They watched until their mother called them in for dinner and elbowed each other when they were seated at the table.
Lex put her head down as her father said grace, but let her mind wander instead of paying attention. She and Quinton usually stayed home during church, but they didn't interrupt when it came time to pray. Their father would probably go nuts if they pulled a stunt like that.
The rest of the night passed like any normal evening would. Lexi liked the comfort of a good routine because she appreciated consistency. She ate, washed the dishes, and headed up to bed a bit earlier since her head was bothering her.
She went to sleep tucked under her blankets, behind a locked bedroom door and a shut window.
She woke up in a ditch off the highway, the hot morning sun burning her cheeks as a stranger stood over her.
Her car was beeping from the driver's side door left open, and her body was fanned out in the dirt. She stared up at the man, dazed and confused.
"Are you alright, miss?" he asked. When she didn't answer, he repeated himself. "Are you alright?"
Her lips parted. All that came out was a croak.
"Do I need to call the police? Are you hurt?"
"No," she finally said. She sat up and pressed her face in the palms of her hands. "No, I'm sorry. I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" he questioned.
Her chin lifted. "I'm sure."
He didn't seem like he was inclined to believe her, but the urgency in her voice was enough to get him to lay off. She didn't need any extra attention. She simply needed to get home, far away from whatever the hell landed to her there.
"Well, take care of yourself," the man told her. "It's been dangerous out here lately."
"I will," she said. "Thank you for checking up on me."
Lexi got up on her own and wandered back to her car, which was idling a few feet away. She didn't know when she'd left the house. She didn't know how she'd gotten there. The worst part was that it wasn't the first time she'd woken up in a different place than when she'd gone to sleep.
There were holes in her memory, and she didn't know how she was supposed to fill them.
As she drove, she realized she was afraid of her own mind and all the things it could do without her even knowing it.