Hemlock (35 page)

Read Hemlock Online

Authors: Kathleen Peacock

BOOK: Hemlock
9.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Mrs. Walsh twisted her wedding ring around her finger and walked over to one of the large windows that overlooked the manicured front lawn. “That week is sort of a blur, Mackenzie.”

I winced at the faraway, pained tone in her voice and felt guilty for putting it there. “I know. And I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t realy important.”

She turned away from the window and met my eyes. “Why is it?

If you don’t mind me asking.”

I had concocted a story as Trey and I had turned onto Amy’s block, and I was ready for the question. “I think Ben’s been cheating on Tess. And I think he was in town but with someone else that week.”

“Tess is a grown woman, Mackenzie,” said Mrs. Walsh gently.

“She may not appreciate you snooping into her relationships.”

“I know. It’s just that they’re talking about moving in together . . .”

Amy’s mother frowned. I had the sudden feeling there was something about Ben she didn’t like. “Ryan keeps a record of the days our staff work. It’s in his study.” She nodded, more to herself than to me. “He’s out of town, but I can check—if you don’t mind waiting.”

“Actualy,” I said, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks as I stood. “Would it be al right if I used the washroom while you stood. “Would it be al right if I used the washroom while you look?”

Mrs. Walsh nodded and turned to the door. “Of course.” She didn’t bother teling me where the nearest one was. It might have been five months, but I stil knew my way around Amy’s house.

I headed for the washroom on the main floor until I was sure she was in the study, and then I crept up the curving staircase to the second floor.

Third door on the left.

My hand hovered over the knob. There was no reason for me to be up here. It wasn’t like Amy had known she was going to be murdered and left a note saying
Ben killed me, see you on the
other side XoXo
.

But I stil found myself pushing open the door.

Inside, it was like the room was waiting for Amy to come back.

Nothing had been packed away and the only difference was the absence of clothing that had once covered the floor and every other available surface. The bedroom was stil an explosion of purple—purple and silver fleur-de-lis walpaper, purple bedding, purple curtains—and the same bright band posters covered the wals. It was loud and chaotic and it should have been fun, but without Amy to animate the space, it felt sad and empty—like a helium baloon that had mostly deflated.

I walked past the vanity—trying not to stare too long or too hard at the photos of the four of us Amy had taped to the mirror—

and headed for the window seat. I always told Amy it was a stupid place to hide her diary, and I was right. When I slipped my hand place to hide her diary, and I was right. When I slipped my hand underneath the cushions, it wasn’t there.

Part of me was disappointed; half of me was relieved. If Amy had known about Jason’s feelings for me, I wasn’t sure I wanted to see what she’d written about the whole mess.

I wondered if Derby had somehow gotten ahold of the diary, if that was how he had known about her and Trey.

I started to pul my hand out when it grazed a smooth piece of paper. I slid a photograph into the light.

Trey. Sitting on a park bench and grinning self-consciously and looking very unlike his tough-guy persona.

Feeling a little like some sort of grave robber, I tucked the photo into the strap of my bra—not wanting to fold it and slide it into my pocket.

I took one last glance around the room. Any minute, Mrs.

Walsh would be wondering where I was. My eyes lit on a flash of copper and silver on the dresser: Amy’s lucky bracelet.

I walked over and lifted it from a tangle of bangles and necklaces, trying to ignore the way my vision blurred.

Amy had gotten the bracelet at a flea market. Someone had taken a bunch of foreign coins, driled holes through them, and slipped them onto a piece of leather. I thought it was a waste of money—the coins weren’t even that old—but Amy thought the bracelet was exotic. Like pirate booty or the coins bely dancers tied to their scarves. She swore it brought her luck and always wore it during exams.

The fact that her grades were always dismal hadn’t shaken Amy’s faith. After al, she’d say, it wasn’t the bracelet’s fault she Amy’s faith. After al, she’d say, it wasn’t the bracelet’s fault she hadn’t studied.

A tear roled down my cheek and landed on one of the coins.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I slipped the bracelet into my pocket. Someday, Amy’s parents would clean out her room.

When they did, the bracelet would be written off as junk and tossed.

Amy had loved it too much for it to be thrown away.

Wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, I walked out of the room, closing the door behind me. I darted into the washroom across the hal, flushed the toilet, and ran the tap while I counted to sixty.

When I came out, Mrs. Walsh was standing halfway up the stairs.

I tried to look like nothing was wrong, like I didn’t have bits of Amy’s life tucked into my bra and pocket.

If Mrs. Walsh thought it was strange that I had used one of the upstairs washrooms, or if she suspected I had been in Amy’s room, she didn’t show it. Maybe she didn’t have the heart to. She just turned and headed back downstairs.

I folowed, trying not to trip over my own feet.

At the bottom of the stairs, by the front door, Mrs. Walsh turned and frowned. “According to Ryan’s records, Ben caled in sick most of that week. But he did work Monday and Tuesday. I actualy remember that. We were renovating the kitchen and the new cabinets arrived. It was one of the last jobs he did before he quit.”

I grabbed the bottom of the banister to keep from swaying. The I grabbed the bottom of the banister to keep from swaying. The floor and the wals were suddenly at the wrong angles. They were closing in.

Ben had worked Monday and Tuesday.

He had lied to Tess.

He had lied to me.

He was hiding something. He was hiding something and he had been lying to us for months. And I had trusted him.

“Mackenzie?” Mrs. Walsh peered at me, concerned. “Are you al right? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

If she only knew how close she was. After a second, when I was certain I could speak, I said, “I was just realy hoping I was wrong.”

The second part of her statement hit me. “Ben didn’t tel us he quit. He said you laid off most of the work crew and put the renovation project on hold.”

Confusion flashed across her face. “We didn’t lay anyone off.

To be honest, the renovation has been . . . a good distraction.

After we lost Amy”—she faltered—“wel, I was glad to have something to concentrate on.” She shook her head. “Ben quit mid-April. He told Ryan that he had been offered a job with better pay and felt he had to take it.”

I knew what the Cat paid, and it wasn’t nearly as much as Ben would have made working on the renovation.

The whole conversation was a series of earthquakes and aftershocks, and my body ached with the strain of not letting the destruction show. Ben wasn’t just a liar; he was a complete fake.

Mrs. Walsh gently touched my arm. “Maybe I should cal Tess.

You realy don’t look wel.”

I shook my head and forced myself to focus enough to lie. “I’m okay. I think I’m just coming down with something.” I walked toward the door. “Thank you for taking the time to check about Ben.”

Mrs. Walsh said something else—good-bye, I think—and I answered, but I was five months back and a milion miles away.

I blinked in the afternoon sunlight and jumped when I heard the heavy door close behind me.

What if Ben had taken the renovation job to get close to the Walsh family and then quit after he had done whatever it was the Trackers wanted him to?

What if he had drugged Amy and set her up to be kiled?

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

.....................................................................

Chapter 29

TREY WAS SITTING IN THE DRIVER’S SEAT WHEN I GOT back to the jeep.

I slid into the car, trying to quel the urge to throw up or start screaming, and handed him the photograph.

He frowned. “Where did you get this?”

“Amy’s room.” I puled the bracelet from my pocket and fastened it around my wrist. I traced the edge of one of the coins and a wave of dizziness hit me. I had to close my eyes for a second.

Maybe I was wrong. It was possible, right? Maybe Ben realy was just cheating on Tess—or was running drugs or had an ilegitimate child in desperate need of a bone marrow transplant.

The point was, there were other reasons he could have lied and I’d take almost any of them—from the sleazy to the downright criminal.

I opened my eyes and glanced at Trey. He was staring at the photograph like he was trying to remember everything about the day it had been taken. “Amy never told me about you, but she kept that photo. It was important to her.”

“But she wouldn’t have left Jason for me.” His voice was bitter, but he carefuly slipped the photo into his jacket pocket. “What did you find out?”

“Nothing,” I lied.

Al I had were two deceptions and a bunch of
if
s.
If Ben was in
Hemlock that night
.
If Ben was working for the Trackers.
If
Ben had slipped Amy the drugs
.

If Ben was a monster
.

If Ben was a monster
.

It wasn’t enough. If I told Trey, he’d go after Ben first and ask questions later. I had to be sure before I told anyone.

Trey leaned toward me with a bleak, feral grin. “Remember what I said about you teling me what was going on after you talked to Amy’s folks?”

I shook my head and tried to look as though Trey intimidated me. It wasn’t hard with him grinning like that. Intimidation would excuse the shakiness in my voice when I lied. “There was this guy who worked for her parents and I remembered Amy saying he dealt drugs and she felt like he was watching her. But he was working the night she died.”

Trey cracked his knuckles. “That’s way too big of a coincidence. What’s his name?” Maybe it was my imagination, but his canines looked sharper than they had a moment ago.

“Toby Jacobs,” I replied, seizing on the name of one of my father’s drug dealer friends. “But Mrs. Walsh said he left Hemlock last month.”

“And you couldn’t tel me this on the way over?”

“I was scared you’d snap and go after him,” I admitted. “I didn’t want you ripping someone’s throat out unless I was sure.”

It was just enough truth to convince him. Trey nodded and some of the tension eased out of his shoulders. He started the Jeep and puled a U-turn in the wide, courtyardlike space in front the Walsh house before heading out to the street.

“Can you drop me off at home?”

He shot me a surprised glance. “You’re not coming back to Henry’s?”

Henry’s?”

I shook my head and stared out the window as we passed the kind of houses I’d never have set foot inside if it hadn’t been for Jason and Amy.

“Jason and Kyle aren’t going to let me go with them. If I show up at Henry’s, it’l just turn into a fight.” That wasn’t the real reason, but it wasn’t exactly a lie, either. If I went, a fight was exactly what would happen.

“Dobs . . .”

“Please, Trey.” I was scared to look at him, scared I’d crack and tel him the truth. The suspicion I was carrying was too big for one person; it pressed down on me and I was worried I’d be crushed under its weight. “I just want to go home. If you’re worried about being spotted, I can hop out and catch the bus.”

“No, that’s not it.” Trey turned right at the end of Amy’s street and headed for the bridge. “It’s just that you were hel-bent on going this morning. I didn’t figure you’d give up so easy.”

“A lot’s changed since this morning,” I said softly.

We crossed into the south part of town. There seemed to be cop cars everywhere, cruising up and down the streets in an endless patrol. More posters and flyers had gone up overnight, urging people to put regs first and report suspicious activity.

We stopped at a red light. Trey reached across me and rooted in the glove compartment until his hands closed on a Lakers hat.

With a tight frown, he slipped it on.

I never should have let him drive me back into town.

“It’s okay,” Trey said, picking up on my fear the way Kyle could. “If I have to, I can ditch the Jeep and get back to Henry’s on foot.”

We puled up in front of my building. “Be careful,” I said. On impulse, I reached across the seat and hugged him.

For a second, Trey froze, and then he hugged me back awkwardly. “Careful, Dobs,” he muttered. “Nice girls aren’t supposed to worry about guys like me.”

I puled away. “Tel Ky—tel the guys and Serena to be careful, too.” I swalowed. “And tel Serena I’m sorry I didn’t get to see her before she left.”

If Jason’s plan worked, I might never see Serena again. She and Noah would be safely outside Hemlock and they probably wouldn’t return.

Trey nodded and I slid out of the Jeep.

I didn’t let myself look back as I headed for the parking lot at the rear of the building.

Ben’s truck wasn’t outside, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. It was probably stil at the garage.

I crept upstairs to my apartment. Trying to be as quiet as possible, I slipped my key into the lock and opened the door.

Sunlight streamed into the empty kitchen and living room.

After making sure the bathroom and both bedrooms were deserted, I picked up the phone and caled Ben’s place. I let it ring thirty times, hung up, waited five minutes, and then redialed and let it ring thirty more.

Heart thudding in my chest, I replaced the receiver and went to Heart thudding in my chest, I replaced the receiver and went to Tess’s room. I got down on my stomach and reached under her bed for the crowbar she’d started keeping there after we watched a
Scream
marathon.

Then I headed for my room.

When we had moved in, Tess let me have the larger bedroom because she didn’t like having the fire escape directly outside her window.

Other books

Crazy by Benjamin Lebert
The Gilder by Kathryn Kay
Hard to Hold On by Shanora Williams
Selected Stories (9781440673832) by Forster, E.; Mitchell, Mark (EDT)
Species by Yvonne Navarro
Levkas Man by Innes, Hammond;
The Chevalier De Maison Rouge by Dumas, Alexandre
A Borrowed Man by Gene Wolfe