Little Miss Not So Perfect

Chapter Fourteen

   Dinner started out awkwardly. I could tell my father had not told anyone what he found when he entered my room but the tension between Chase and I was obvious. My mother seemed oblivious to it all though. She was catching up with Chase, asking him everything and anything about him and his family.

      “Dear, give the boy a break. You haven’t let him eat anything yet because he’s been busy answering all your questions,” my father told my mother.

      “We haven’t seen Chase for awhile. You’re always in such a rush when you stop by,” my mother whined.

      “I’ll ask my parents when they’re free, we could have you all over for dinner one night to catch up,” Chase suggested.

      My mother almost jumped out of her seat, “Oh! That would be just perfect Chase.”

      Blake and I rolled our eyes at our mother’s act. My father quickly changed the subject to work before my mother could start planning everything out. My father was a lawyer, and always worked extremely hard. He usually never told us many details, but tonight he decided to break the rules.

      “Did you three know the Evans girl?” My father asked us.

      “Not at the table Richard, the kids don’t need to know about your cases,” my mother scolded him.

      I couldn’t help myself, “Harper?” I asked him, ignoring my mother.

      “No, no that wasn’t her first name. I can’t remember,” he stated, “Harper might have been her younger sister though. The name does sound familiar.”

      Chase answered before I could, “We all know Harper, but none of us knew her sister personally.”

      “I didn’t know Harper even had a sister,” I looked to Blake and Chase for some kind of answer.

      “She died freshman year, she was older than us. She was a freshman in college at the time,” Blake told me.

      “Why did I never hear about this?” I asked.

      Surprisingly my father was the one who answered the question, “The murder was kept very quiet, as was the trial. She went missing, and was found a month later. There was never much evidence leading to who killed her. It was a real tragedy.”

      My father was a criminal defense lawyer, so it surprised me he knew so much about the case. “How do you know so much then?” I asked him.

      “I was the lawyer for the defendant. The case never went to trial; there wasn’t enough evidence. But it was still a shame they never found who really did it,” he told us.

      My mom shifted uncomfortably in her chair, “I think that’s enough work talk for one dinner.”