Nearly Found (20 page)

But who killed her? Who did she trust enough to let in her room? In her bed? Who would she trust enough to follow out into the woods in the dark?

A knot tightened in my throat.

I was there. At Emily’s earlier tonight.

I had to believe that the contents of that cup didn’t belong to Reece.

“Come on,” Raj said, setting the cup on the bed to strip off his booties and gloves. “Another team is on their way. We shouldn’t stick around.”

I followed him outside. I told myself the cup was better off where it was. Jeremy, Vince, Reece, Eric, and I—we’d all been there, in those trees. In her yard. We’d all been complicit. The cup could be the one piece of evidence that saved us all.

So why did I have such a hard time turning my back on it?

“Are you going to take that?” Raj asked.

I jumped. But he wasn’t talking about the cup. He looked annoyed. My phone buzzed insistently in my pocket.

Jeremy. Again.

I held the phone to my ear. “What?”

“Jeez, Nearly,” he shouted. “I’ve been calling for an hour!”

“Can’t this wait? Now’s not exactly a good time.”

“No, it can’t wait.” I heard his deep trembling breath through the phone. “The recordings. They’re gone.”

I sighed with relief. “Good. That’s great, Jeremy.”

“No, you don’t understand. I didn’t delete them.”

I lowered my voice, turning my back to Raj. “What do you mean, you didn’t delete them?”

“I couldn’t. It’s my laptop. Someone took it. It’s gone.”

“I can’t talk now.” I hung up the phone.

“Come on,” Raj said. “We should get back to the lab.” He was halfway across the lawn to his car.

“You go on without me.” I handed Raj my lanyard and lab coat. “I forgot I have a study group meeting at my friend’s house. He lives just down the street. I can catch a ride home with him.”

Raj grinned. “Right. Study group. I’ll see you at the lab on Tuesday.” He unlocked his car and tossed me my backpack. “Hey, are you sure Veronica wants to go out with me?”

My backpack felt too heavy. I didn’t feel sure of anything anymore. “Yes, I’m certain of it.”

Raj’s smile spread from ear to ear as he got into his car and drove away.

I turned toward Jeremy’s house. His car was in the driveway, and I ran to his front door. I knocked loudly, looking up at his bedroom window. He peeled the curtain back and let it fall. I waited, anxiously bouncing on my toes, and when he didn’t answer the door, I rang the bell, over and over until I heard his shoes lumber down the stairs inside.

He threw open the front door and blew past me, car keys in his hand.

“How’d you get here so fast?” he asked over his shoulder.

“I was at Emily’s,” I said, almost running to keep up. “Why didn’t you call me last night? Those recordings put every single one of us at the crime scene. We have to find them!”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He stood beside his car with his back to me. “I should have called as soon as I got home.”

“Then why didn’t you, Jeremy? Do you have any idea how much trouble we’ll be in if those recordings end up in the wrong hands? For all we know, they could already be on YouTube or something!”

Jeremy turned to face me. An angry red welt spread across the left side of his jaw and there was a small cut in the corner of his lip. “I said I know. And I’m sorry.”

My breath caught. “What happened?”

“My dad caught me sneaking into the house at three a.m. and demanded to know where I’d been.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him I’d been with Anh. After that, I didn’t really have time to look for the recordings.”

“Oh,” I said. When he’d left so late last night, I hadn’t even thought about the fact that he would have to go home and avoid being caught by his father. That he had to protect himself against more than just the monster that was trying to kill us. He had to protect himself against the one that lived under his own roof. “It’s okay. We’ll figure something out. It’s almost four. We’ve got to meet the others.”

The garage door groaned open. Jason Fowler stood inside it with a red face, angrier than I’d ever seen him. Jeremy stepped away from the car.

“I told you you’re grounded,” he said, stalking toward us.

“No,” Jeremy said in a small voice. “You told me I couldn’t see Anh.”

Jason’s hands were clenched at his side. He darted looks up and down the street. “This is my house!” he hissed. “I make the rules! I’m not just going to sit around and let you make a spectacle of this family while you run off and wet your dick with some cheap, foreign dollar store salesclerk!”

Jeremy gritted his teeth. “She’s my girlfriend. And I won’t let you talk about her like that.”

“Don’t you dare mouth off to me!”

Jeremy flinched.

My eyes flicked to Vince’s house across the street. I thought about running and banging on his front door.

“And how many times do I have to tell you stay away from this one?” Jason’s hand shot out and grabbed me by the shirt. “I raised you better than this. And you insult me by bringing this gold-digging tramp to my—”

Jeremy shoved his father. “Don’t you touch her!”

His father’s face contorted with rage and he lunged. Jeremy wound back and hit him hard in the jaw, knocking him back. There was a wild recklessness in Jeremy’s eyes. His chest heaved with adrenaline.

Jason righted himself, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand while he stared coldly at his son.

A door slammed across the street. Vince stood on his front porch, watching intently, his hands loose and ready at his sides. Jason looked from him to me to Jeremy. “I’ll deal with you later,” he said, and stormed back into the house.

When he was gone, Jeremy stared at his hand.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

I took his hand. He tasted confused and disappointed and scared.

I squeezed it tight and said, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

W
E DROVE TO THE SCHOOL
in silence, Vince’s car following close behind. As we neared West River, I spotted Reece getting out of Alex’s Benz. He’d parked on the street a block away from the entrance, probably to make our presence here less obvious. Taking Reece’s lead, Jeremy parked a few car lengths behind him. Vince rolled past us, pulling to a stop in the center of the lot.

Reece reclined against the Benz, waiting for Jeremy and me. Our eyes met as we walked toward him, and his smile was a little uncertain, like he wasn’t quite sure where we stood. My smile felt awkward too.

“I could have given you a ride,” he said, casting a sideways glance at Jeremy.

“It would have been out of your way.” I shrugged. “Besides, I needed to talk to Jeremy anyway.”

“About what? Did you hear something in the crime lab today?”

I bit my lip and started walking toward the school. Where would I even start? Emily’s foot, the stolen recordings, the condom in Emily’s room? “Come on. I’ll fill everyone in when we’re inside.”

“Should we wait for Eric?” he asked, once we’d caught up with Vince.

“He just texted me. He’s on his way,” Jeremy said, looking up from his phone.

“Tell him to meet us in the computer lab,” I said.

Jeremy started typing a message, then paused. “The computer lab isn’t a good idea. It’ll be locked.”

“Not a problem,” Reece said.

“There’s a security system in the computer lab. Motion sensors and a silent alarm. Only the teachers and custodians know the code.”

Vince looked anxious. “We’re in enough deep shit. Let’s just pick someplace else. My parents aren’t home. We can go to my house,” he said.

“We’re already here,” Jeremy said, pushing his glasses up over the bruise on the bridge of his nose. I didn’t blame him for not wanting to go back to Belle Green so quickly. “We can sit outside and talk.”

Vince hitched his thumbs in his jeans and shrugged. “The ball fields should be empty by now. We can grab one of the picnic tables behind the school. It should be private enough.”

But I wasn’t so sure. I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were all being watched.

“Text Eric and tell him to meet us upstairs in the chemistry lab instead. Let’s get inside, before someone sees us.”

Reece was quiet while he picked the lock on the front door to get us in. I snuck glances at him while Jeremy filled him in about the helmet and Emily’s foot. It was hard not to stare at the road rash on Reece’s arm or the bandage on his wrist, or the way he took the stairs with a slight limp. Or to look at Jeremy’s face without feeling like, somehow, I was responsible for all of it.

Once we were inside the lab, Reece leaned against a table, watching me pace the room. Jeremy scrolled through his phone while Vince rummaged in the supply closet. Once Eric arrived, the club—what was left of the club—would all be here, and we could figure out what the hell to do. But first, I would have to tell them all what CSI had discovered in Emily’s bedroom.

“Ha!” Vince shouted from inside the closet. “I knew there would be booze in here!”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s ethanol.”

“It’s grain,” he argued.

“That cabinet’s locked, Vince.”

There was a shuffling, then the scrape of metal on metal. Then the unmistakable shudder of a locker being yanked open. “Not anymore.”

I buried my head in my hands as I listened to the liquid pour in a slow, steady trickle from the tap of the ethyl alcohol dispenser.

“Whoa!” he choked out. “That shit burns going down.”

The hazardous materials cabinet rattled shut. Vince emerged from the closet, sweating and red-cheeked, holding a silver flask.

“Where’d you get that? “I asked, hoping he hadn’t stolen that from Rankin’s closet too.

“It’s mine,” Vince said, turning the flask to prove it. His initials were engraved in the finish. “Just taking a little juice for the road. That’s all.”

“Isn’t it a little early for that?” Reece asked.

Vince looked disgusted. “We found Emily’s foot in the saddlebag of your bike last night, and you’re asking me if it’s too early to get numb?”

Reece’s eyes darted to me.

I hadn’t wanted him to find out this way. “I was going to tell you once everyone got here,” I said.

He swore under his breath.

Vince plopped down into an empty chair, pulling his seat tight beside Jeremy’s. Jeremy slumped in his, looking miserable. He checked the time on his phone.

“We might as well get started. Eric should be here soon. What did you find out?” he asked.

I shut the door and took a seat. Reece winced as he settled gingerly into the chair beside me.

“Investigators found the murder weapon in the trees behind Emily’s house. A rope. She was strangled.”

“Was there a number? A note?” Jeremy asked.

“I was in Emily’s house earlier today while the CSI team was there. No one mentioned an obvious message at either of the crime scenes.”

“Did you get rid of the recordings?” Reece asked Jeremy. Jeremy and I exchanged guilty looks.

“My laptop was stolen sometime last night. Probably while we were out looking for Emily. The recordings were on it.”

Reece eased back in his chair, his face drawn with worry. “What about the foot you found in my saddlebag? Is that gone too?”

“It’s safe,” I said.

The lab door creaked open and Eric popped his head in, looking relieved to see us. He sank into an empty chair.

“So what did they find?” Eric asked, winded from his run up the two flights of stairs. “They had to have found something.”

“They did find . . . something.”

I couldn’t tell if the flush in Vince’s cheeks was the grain or something else. Reece stared stone-faced at the floor, like he was bracing himself for more bad news.

“It will take a few days for the lab to process the evidence. But the investigators think she knew her killer.” I pressed my lips shut, chancing a glance at Reece. His eyes met mine. “Emily had sex with someone the same night she was murdered. They found the condom in her bedroom.” Reece didn’t look away. Even when Jeremy turned in his chair to gape at him.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Jeremy shouted.

“It wasn’t me,” Reece answered, but he was looking at me.

“Relax, Jeremy,” Eric piped up. “Reece wasn’t in her room before we got there, right, Reece?”

Reece’s jaw clenched.

“I knew it.” Jeremy buried his head in his hands.

Eric looked around the group, like he was waiting for someone else to ask the obvious question. “What were you doing in her room?”

Reece gritted his teeth. “I went to her house to talk. She wasn’t there.” Eric raised an eyebrow. Reece looked disgusted. “I didn’t sleep with her. I didn’t touch her. And I sure as hell didn’t kill her!”

“Then who did?” Eric asked. “I mean, there’s no way Emily would have been sleeping with TJ’s dad, right? That’s kind of gross.”

Jeremy rubbed his bloodshot eyes. He heaved a frustrated sigh. “Obviously, it was someone who didn’t want her to talk to us. Someone she was close with. Someone who knew what we were up to.” Jeremy’s voice trailed off. The room fell quiet.

Eric turned to look at Vince. We all did.

Vince flew out of his chair and threw open the door. Reece and Jeremy scrambled to their feet and chased him to the stairs.

I grabbed Eric by the wrist and pulled him to the window, tasting a wild peppermint rush. “No,” I said, certain he wanted to go after them. We’d never be fast enough to keep up. “Come on! We’ll be able to see where he goes from here.”

We cranked open a window and leaned out just in time to see Vince tear out of the front door at the far end of the building. He tripped off the curb, then made a beeline for his Camaro with Reece at his heels and Jeremy behind him. That’s when I saw them.

The blue letters spray painted on the roof of Vince’s car.

2 C
8
H
18
+ 25 O
2
16 CO
2
+ 18 H
2
O

Octane.

Combustion.

“Reece! Not the car! It’s a trap!”

Reece skidded to a stop at the sound of my voice.

“It’s going to blow up!”

Reece took off toward Vince. He pumped his feet faster while Vince dropped into the driver’s seat and fumbled with his keys. He was slow, clumsy from the grain, but he slipped a key in the ignition. Then he reached for the door. Reece grabbed his arm and pulled, dragging Vince from his seat. They rolled over the pavement, swearing at each other. Vince threw a punch at Reece’s face, but Reece dodged it and planted his knee under Vince’s ribs, dropping him to the ground.

“Get away from the car!” I shouted.

Reece slung an arm under Vince and dragged him across the parking lot while Vince struggled to catch his breath.

The sound of the explosion rattled the windows and my teeth. It threw Vince and Reece to the ground in a tangled heap. The car began to flame, black smoke curling from the hood and spewing from the empty seat where Vince had been sitting. Eric and I raced down the stairs. He stopped to grab a fire extinguisher off the wall to douse the flames. Jeremy ran into the building for another one. Breathing heavily, Reece and Vince bent over their knees, staring at the smoke and white spray billowing around Vince’s totaled car.

I ran to Reece, stopping myself an arm’s length away. I knew better than to touch him after a fight. His eyes were a cold, cold blue, and he was looking at Vince like he wanted to kill him. He cradled his bandaged wrist.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I’m fine,” he said, still winded.

Jeremy and Eric doused the last of the flames and ran to catch up with the rest of us.

Vince swiped blood from his lip and stared at his car, his hands clenched at his side.

Reece shoved him, getting his attention. “Why the hell did you run?”

“I didn’t know what else to do!” He wavered a little on his feet, but his eyes were sober. “It was me. I was the one that was with her that night. But I didn’t kill her.”

I touched the sweat-slicked skin of Vince’s arm, as if to reassure him. He tasted strong and clear. Truth, for me, was always crisply defined, no matter what emotion lay at its center. In Vince’s case, that emotion was grief. I looked to Reece, gave a small nod.

“I swear I didn’t kill her. She was fine when I left.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I am so screwed. The only hope I had of getting out of this were those fucking recordings. If the police suspected Reece, maybe I’d be off the hook. You know, reasonable doubt and all that shit. But now the recordings are gone, and once the cops figure out the condom was mine, that’s it.”

“What do we do now?” Jeremy took off his glasses to wipe the sweat from his eyes.

Reece frowned at the smoldering car. “We get out of here before someone sends a patrol car. Jeremy, you take Eric and Vince.” To me, he said, “If you want, you can ride with me.” He sounded uncertain, like he wasn’t sure I would accept. I didn’t object. “Leigh’s house is closest. Her mom’s working tonight. We can talk there. Figure something out.” He turned to Vince. “Give me your hootch.”

Vince reached in his back pocket and withdrew an expensive-looking silver flask. Reece took it. Then he rummaged in a nearby trash can for an empty bottle. He poured an ounce of Vince’s grain into it. Then he pulled a pocketknife from his jeans, grabbed the front of Jeremy’s T-shirt, and began cutting along the seam.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jeremy pulled away, but it only made Reece’s job easier and the last of the fabric tore free. He put away the knife and stuffed the cloth strip in the bottle, leaving a piece to dangle over the lip. Then he wiped the glass clean and set the bottle in the middle of the parking lot.

“If the cops come, they’ll think some neighborhood kids were messing around, setting off Molotov cocktails. You can tell them you left your car here while you went out with some friends.”

“Yeah, right,” Vince muttered. “Some friends.”

Reece turned around fast and put his hand at Vince’s throat. “You’re lucky to be alive. Remember that.”

Vince nodded. Swallowed. He looked at the healing road rash on Reece’s face. “I know.”