The drought moved in slowly at first, a few weeks at a time without rain. Farmers weren't at all worried, it was just another rough season. Grain production continued, and small ponds began to drain. By the time the soil began to erode and blow away, it was too late to slow down production; it was forced to stop. The small towns dotting the Great Plains region began to falter, bankrupt and blighted, leaving a gaping hole in the center of the country.

September 29, 2015

Lexie Harris stood at the shore of the lake she had spent countless summers on. The receding shoreline threatened every day to reveal some piece of damning evidence, and she was well aware. She had grown used to obsessively picking up the litter, a compulsive effort to keep herself free and clear. Her pale eyes, which had grown as cold as the dry wind whipping her hair around her face, scanned the lake around her, making sure nothing was there. The beach was now so dead that any sign of life would be spotted immediately.
She turned her back on the lake, pulling her sleeves tight over her hands in absence of gloves. Behind her somewhere, the wind ripped branches off of a long-dead tree, sending them skittering along the hard-packed dirt. She flicked the ash from her cigarette, stepping on it to prevent the dry brush from inevitably catching on fire. Maybe a fire is what this place needs, she thought.

April 19, 2015

She sat with the heels of her boots hooked on the bottom rung of the stool at her kitchen counter. She sipped her coffee, pulled a slow draw from her cigarette. The small television on her counter displayed the headline: Lake Adeline Suffers in Drought, Dry by 2016. Her eyes snapped up, and her fingers stumbled to the remote to turn up the tv.
"Once a sign of vitality and life in rural Nebraska, Lake Adeline is beginning to feel the effects of the drought. Years of irrigation drainage and lack of rain have crippled eastern Nebraska's main source of fresh water. If nothing is done to resolve this, or if the drought continues, the lake will be dry by this time 2016. Gillian, back to you."
She was shaking as she turned the tv off, but steeled herself as she stood up and grabbed her keys, not bothering to lock the door behind her.
The tinny speakers in her old Monte Carlo played the Killers as she rolled past what used to cornfields, the lyrics filling her car. Save some face. The wind whipped sandy dirt at her car, threatening to scrape the rusted paint off like sandpaper. You know you’ve only got one. Turn signal on, speed limit raises to 45, she accelerates to 60. She flew past a cop, but the he didn't look up. Apathy tended to be the norm lately. Change your ways, while you’re young. She slowed down around a fallen tree, roots torn from the dead ground by months of eroding wind. She sped back up, her car shifting hard. Boy, one day you’ll be a man. Ten more minutes on the highway and she slowed down into town, putting her sunglasses on, oversized frames brushing the tops of her cheekbones. Oh girl, he’ll help you understand…
She pulled into a parking lot, neon sign half burned out. She killed the engine, cutting off the song mid-lyric. Her hair swirled around her face as she got out, a brassy blonde halo. She opened the door, and no bell rang. This bar was one of a few places in a decaying town that still made money, even mid-afternoon. Dry cornfields had given the farmers plenty of free time lately.
"Fourtner!" Lexie called, startling the girl behind the counter. "Do you know where Fourtner is?" She asked the girl, not bothering to soften her voice.
"He's in the back. You can go see him," The girl said, barely making eye contact. She nodded in thanks, and walked to the back office.
Fourtner looked up when he saw her, raising his dark eyebrows. He stood up from his desk, and stood in front of her.
"We're in trouble," Lexie said, "Did you see the news?"
"With the lake? Don't worry about that, Lex. The EPA won't let the lake get low enough to- you know," He stuffed his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, obviously unsettled.
"Wake up, Fourtner," she snapped. "The EPA is done with us. They let this drought go too far, and they have bigger problems now than little Lake Adeline."
"Honestly, relax. The cops still think he's somewhere in Oklahoma, and as far as anyone else knows, you're still helping the search."
Lexie bit the inside of her lip, nodding. What the local police didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

Her mother had died when she was fourteen. It had been coming for a while, but between denial and emotional withdrawal, Lexie was utterly unprepared for the grief she would feel. She shuffled through high school in a daze, doing everything in her power to fly under her father's radar. Upon entering law school, Lexie turned to a destructive cycle of alcohol and caffeine, partying and studying. Work hard, play hard became her personal motto; her father ignored her troublesome habits, ignored that this was her way of coping with the suppressed grief  years in the making. By her junior year in college, Lexie had reached rock bottom. She started off her spring break in group therapy, unwillingly sobering up and spilling her feelings.

October 24, 2014

A hard knock on the door shook the thin walls of Lexie's apartment. She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, drying her hair. Another knock, and she sighed.
"One second," she called, forcing herself to sound pleasant. She padded barefoot to the door, undid the chain, and opened the door to find an officer from Omaha. Her heart sunk, falling heavy and thick near her kidneys.
"Alexandra Harris?" The officer said, briefly showing his badge. Lexie nodded, opening the door wider. "Is there somewhere we can talk?" He asked, stepping into the small living room. She nodded again, leading him to her kitchen.
"Coffee?" She asked, hearing the nervousness in her voice. Come on, Lex. She thought, get it together.
"Naw, that's fine," the officer said, sitting down hard at the wooden table. Lexie followed him, sat down across from him. She looked at him, waiting for him to speak first.
"Ms. Harris, I have news about you're father. It may be a lead, or it may not, but it's something you should hear."
She leaned forward, forcing her eyes to widen instead of narrowing them in suspicion.
"Yes?" She said, her mouth dry.
"We've found a car that matches the description and plates you gave. The thing is, is that we found it in Oklahoma City. Do you know if your father had any business in Oklahoma?"
She leaned back, pretending to let the news sink in. She could see the officer thinking, evaluating her response. She shook her head.
"No," Lexie said. "No, I don't know why he would be in Oklahoma."
"We-ell," the cop said, stretching the word into two syllables, "We found his wallet in the car. Everything seemed to be there, small bills and everything." Lexie nodded once. "It seemed a little odd though," he continued, "That nobody broke in. Especially given the state of OKC, since the drought started."
That worried her. That car was in a rough part of town, and she had anticipated a break-in.  She scanned the officer's face, what is he trying to say? Lexie shrugged. "That is odd," she said noncommittally. He got up to leave, and Lexie thanked him for taking the time to keep her informed. Said it meant a lot to her, and closed the door behind him. She moved to the window in her bedroom, where she could see the street below, and watched him drive away. Reaching for her phone, she dialed the familiar number of her only remaining friend.
"Fourtner," she said when he answered. He grumbled a little about being woken up, how he had to close the bar last night. "Listen, Fourtner. They found the car."
Silence for a beat. Then two. "Holy-"
"I know," Lexie interrupted. "But listen, nobody broke in."
"No biggie," Fourtner said, "As far as they know, he's just living in Oklahoma City now. A fresh start or somethin'. They won't suspect him to be dead for a while, Lex, especially if they don't suspect foul play."

June 3, 2014

It was her sister's idea, to organize a vigil. Lexie resisted, claiming it was unnecessary, more of an attention stunt than anything else. As if a few dozen local families would bring back her father. Not that anybody there would know that nothing could bring back her father. But Lexie's sister shared the headstrong determination that had landed Lexie at this vigil in the first place.
Lexie's estranged sister, Audrey, came back to Nebraska with her husband in tow, a rock the size of a ring pop shining pointedly in Lexie's direction from her ring finger. Audrey was as petty as Lexie was mean; she always had the whitest teeth, the shiniest ring, the loudest laugh. As well-wishers walked past, Audrey pointed and flexed her toes to show off toned calf muscles.
Audrey cried daintily, and Lexie stood stoically next to her for most of the night, burning her hand when her cheap candle dripped wax on her. After one too many acquaintance told Lexie that her family was in their prayers, she had to excuse herself.
She ended up at Fourtner's bar, and for the first time since this mess began, Lexie Harris cried.

At her third meeting, Lexie was seated next to a new member. He had lost his sister, and turned to prescription pain meds, forged from a prescription notepad stolen from his father's plastic surgery clinic. He introduced himself as simply Fourtner, and stretched his lanky legs in front of him. Lexie ignored him for the first two weeks, challenging the therapy system. After another session spent trying to ignore him, Fourtner held out an earbud. Lexie narrowed her eyes, and he shook the earbud a little. She reached out an took it, still apprehensive. As she put it in her ear, she heard the Killers, Brandon Flowers singing. She could only hear the bass, the guitar pushed into the other earbud. Fourtner raised his eyebrows, and she nodded, venturing a small smile. She relaxed, and Lexie and Fourtner fell into a rhythm for the rest of the support group sessions. 

April 10, 2014

Lexie pulled up to the boat launch at 10:00, but waited for nearly half an hour, smoking a cigarette with mild interest, until she knew for sure that she saw Fourtner's red truck pull up. She sat in the tree cover, warm breeze rolling through her open windows, the sounds of fresh spring leaves rattled around her. The sound of her phone vibrating against the dashboard startled her out of her daze, and she answered.
"I have the boat tied up at the dock. You ready?" Fourtner asked. He sounded nervous, but Lexie trusted him. Of the two of them, she was unpredictable and flaky, not him.
"Ready," she said. "You gonna come help me with the, you know, the body?"
"Yeah," he said. "Yep, okay. Jesus, we're really doing this now."
They opened the truck of her car, and Fourtner looked at her quickly. She nodded, seeing his uncertainty. "My count. One, two, three." They heaved up on the black lawn bag, Lexie's foot slipping in the April mud, Fourtner swearing under his breath.
"Get it to the boat," Lexie said, readjusting her grip as the bag began to tear. Fourtner sucked in a tight breath as he felt an arm brush against him through the thin plastic. They heaved once more, and dropped the bag into the small fishing boat.
"Shhh, Lex," Fourtner said. "The launch is closed. We get caught we're hosed. Seriously, hosed."
Lexie shot him a look, and snapped "Just start the motor."
They puttered quietly to the center of the lake, the fish-finder reading ten fathoms, the deepest part of Lake Adeline. They looked at each other in the dark, both pale and wide-eyed.
"Alright, we can't make a splash," Lexie said. "Just kinda lower it." Fourtner nodded, barely, and grabbed his end of the bag.
"Not in the bag!" Lexie hissed. "The bag will float. Just tie the anchor on, and drop him. It, the body, you know."
"I'm not opening the bag, Lex. No way. No."
"Fine," she snarled, "I'll do it myself." She tore the plastic, and forced herself not to cough. Breathing through her nose, Lexie tied the anchor line around her father's torso, and lowered him slowly, quietly into the lake.

April 9, 2014

"Alright Fourtner, you'll have to drive it. I'm too short to drive without moving the seat and mirrors and everything," She said, eyeing her father's shiny BMW sedan. Fourtner hummed in agreement, and Lexie got in her own car, rolling down the window to air out the stale smell that had been living in there for the past few days.
“I still don’t get why we have to dump the car,” Fourtner asked.
“Because nobody just disappears and leaves their car in the driveway,” Lexie started, “Why, do you think we should just leave it? Throw it in the lake maybe?” She tipped her head, challenging him. He mumbled, shuffling his feet. “That’s what I thought,” Lexie said, narrowing her eyes.
“So,” Fourtner ventured, testing Lexie’s mood, “Where do we take it?”
"Just follow me," Lexie said, clamping her teeth down on the butt of a cigarette.
They left the town proper behind them, Lexie heading south on I-35. When the wind was too loud and fast in her face, Lexie rolled up the windows and turned on her radio, tuned to the only alt-rock station in the area. She checked her mirror, to make sure Fourtner was still behind her. She rolled her shoulders, settling in for the long haul. Oklahoma City, here we come.

April 8, 2014

Lexie walked down the dark hallway of her family's law practice, her heels clicking rhythmically on the polished floors, slacks too tight on her thighs. She counted the doors as she passed them, looking for her father's office. She walked through the open glass door, and he looked up, the light from his computer  washing his face in blue.
"Hey, Lex. Almost finished?" He asked, now staring at his computer. She nodded, and moved to look at the photos on the windowsill behind his desk. She saw her parents wedding picture and felt bitter anger fill her lungs, shaking them like a stereo with too much bass.
"Mmhm," she said, quietly unbuckling her belt and slipping it off. She wrapped one end around her hand, like a boxer wrapping his hands before the big show.
"Do you have those reports I asked for, Lex?" He asked her, the tone of his voice changing, hardening. That made up her mind, erasing any doubt that lingered.
"Don't worry about it," she said, snapping her hands out quickly, wrapping the belt tightly around his neck. She sunk in her heels as he struggled, grabbing for his neck. He choked and shook, his feet kicking below his desk, desperately trying to throw her off. The shaking stopped, but Lexie held on for another few seconds. Unwrapping the belt, she felt for a pulse. One second of nothing, then another.
Lexie pulled her phone from her pocket, dialing.
"Fourtner," she said curtly when he answered, "It's done, let's go."

April 2, 2014

The phone at her desk rang, startling her out of her post-lunch stupor. She answered, and her father was on the other line.
"I need to see you in my office, Alexandra," he said, harshly. Before she could answer, he snapped his phone down, leaving the line dead. She swallowed hard, a pit forming deep in her gut, bunching up her insides. She rose, and walked down the hallway to her father's office.
He was behind his desk, his face a scowl behind wire-rimmed bifocals. He looked up, and Lexie felt her insides freeze, her hands began to shake.
"I talked to a banker today," he said, straining his voice to sound pleasant. "I need to see your financial reports from the last couple months Alexandra."
Lexie tipped her chin up slightly. “Why’s that?"
"Some money's been leaking out of the company. I need to see where it's going."
She put her hands in her pockets so he wouldn't see them shake. He knows he knows he knows, how does he know? " What do I have to do with this?" Oh my god, I'm done. I could go to jail, oh my god.
"Alexandra, I just want the best for the company," he said. Lexie knew this voice well, the I'm-not-mad-I'm-disappointed voice that had dominated her childhood. Years of alternating passive-aggressive punishing and ignoring throughout her childhood had allowed this tone to cut deeper and cleaner than any screaming match could have.
"I'll get them to you soon," Lexie said, chewing hard on her lip, craving a cigarette. 

March 5, 2014

Lexie pulled into the familiar parking lot of Fourtner's bar just before Happy Hour. Before walking through the cheap glass doors, she flicked the butt of her cigarette onto the pavement.  She asked the girl behind the counter if she could go in the back to see her friend, which was really only to be polite, but polite was something Lexie had been working hard to do. She stuck her head into Fourtner's office, not knocking. He didn't look up, his computer playing Jenny Was a Friend of Mine, circa 2004 Killers. I know my rights, I've been here all day and it's time for me to go, so let me know if that's alright. She waited another moment and knocked. Fourtner jumped, turning off his music.
"You got a sec?" Lexie asked him.
"Of course," he said. "What's going on?" She told him about the mileage check. And the many that came after, and eventually her setup that simply wired money from clients right into her bank account.
"So I guess that's it," Lexie said, clapping her hands once, looking Fourtner straight in the eyes. He raised his eyebrows, leaning back in his chair. He puffed a quick breath out his nose.
"Lexie," he said, dragging it out, turning it into a tired sigh. "Lex, I know that you're crazy. I know that. But this is, just, frankly, illegal. What the hell are you thinking? And why are you telling me?"
She sized him up again, drawing blood as she bit the inside of her cheek "I just need a backup."
Fourtner shot forward in his chair, no longer leaning back, relaxed and confused. "Nope. Not with this one, Lex. I have helped you with every one of your stupid and reckless little missions for too long. So no, no backup."
"Hear me out. Honestly, listen."
He shook his head, his eyes closed. "Nope, no. Come on, Lex. This is embezzlement, not a few dollars. Stop."
"Aw, come on, Fourtner," Lexie said, exaggerating her barbed-wire Great Plains drawl. "It's not like stealing has ever been an issue with you before."
His face got red, and she saw him tense his jaw. She knew that would rile him up, and she was itching for a fight, always ready for the entertainment a screaming match would bring. Fourtner shook his head, "Look, I'm sorry Lex. But I not changing my mind."
"Fourtner, I just need to know if you have my back if things go south. And come on, this bar could use a few dollars.”
His eyes narrowed. "What do you mean 'south'?"
"I have a plan, for if my dad finds out. But the thing is, I can't do it alone. I can promise you, though, that your name will stay out of all of this. But if you help, then I think I could help you, too.”
He shook his head again, and Lexie could see the wheels turning in his head. Puffing air out his nose again, like a small laugh, he said "Fine," and turned his music back on. I just can't take this, I swear I've told you the truth.

January 5, 2014

"I need this," Lexie said to the banker, sliding a check over the counter, "deposited into my checking account."
The banker raised her over-plucked eyebrows as she looked at the check. It's a legit check, lady, Lexie thought. Kind of. Just deposit it so we can both be done.
"Isn't this your daddy's firm?" She said, eyebrows still raised.
"I'm a partner now. That's just a mileage check," Lexie said, her voice clipped.
The banker nodded, and clicked a few keys, her overlong red nails irritating Lexie. The clock behind the bulletproof glass ticked, and Lexie knew her lunch break was almost up.
"All set, sweetie."
Lexie thanked her, and walked out to her car. She sighed, closing her eyes. She sat like that for one more second, and went back to work. As long as I'm careful, this could be a good system.

Today

"Ms. Harris, given the, um, severity of your crimes," The officer interrogating her said nervously, he was obviously afraid of her, "Your sentence could be lessened if you gave us the name or names of whoever helped you,"
Lexie turned her chin up, blinking once. She curled the corners of her mouth up, "We don't even know if I'm guilty until after the trial."
"Ma'am, we do. It's very clear that you are the sole suspect in your father's murder. And your counts of embezzlement don't help you any. Just let us know if anyone helped you." The officer was sweating, fidgeting This would be a big win for a small town cop. "Who helped you?"
Her mind flashed back to Fourtner's music, Midnight Show playing as the album ran through while they made their final plan. I wanna take you to a midnight show tonight. If you can keep a secret...
Lexie Harris leaned back in her cold, metal chair. "Don't worry about it."