Projection (24 page)

Granted, life had been easy and almost surreal while they were at Chadwell. They’d lived and plotted together all that time, day in and day out. Together they’d built Ariel up in their minds into a kind of mythic, menacing evil. And while they were there—thousands of miles away from Delphi and everyone associated with it, deliberately off of Facebook, off of Twitter, off of Instagram, so that nobody from Delphi could contact them or find out where they were—Jessica had been able to buy into the idea that Ariel might have been … well, if not responsible for the murder, then at least involved, somehow. And so she went along with Gretchen’s plan. Go back to Delphi pretending to hate each other. Lure Ariel in with the prospect of popularity. Make her feel like they’re really friends, then blackmail her into projecting with them. Use her to get information, and when the time was right, exact revenge for what she did to them. And if they were able to prove—as Gretchen suspected—that Ariel had something to do with the murder, then they’d turn her in to the police.

But the plan had gone awry from day one. For one thing, Ariel wasn’t the monster that they’d imagined her to be. It was obvious that she regretted what she’d done to them—had been suffering for what she’d done to them. And worse, at least from a certain point of view and to her own great surprise, Jessica actually
liked
her. Ariel was funny and cool and fearless, and she’d been honest with Jessica about her problems: her shoplifting, her absentee father, her feelings about Nick. Jessica had wanted, a few times, to tell Ariel what she really thought—that Nick was kind of a meathead and that she was, frankly, too good for him—but she’d restrained herself. Rather than being angry about what Ariel had done to them, Jessica had ended up feeling badly about how she had treated Ariel in middle school. They hadn’t counted on her already being popular, either, although ultimately, that had worked to their advantage. As an outsider, Ariel had nothing to lose if she said no to their offer. But as the most popular girl in eleventh grade … well, she couldn’t afford to say no to them and risk losing her social status if they told everyone what she’d done. And it was obvious to both of them that, until now, Ariel cared more about her social status than just about anything else. Although, who could blame her, really, after all those years spent as a social outcast?

And they still had no proof whatsoever that Ariel had anything to do with the murder. Nor had she provided them with any leads on who did.

“I’ll bet you anything he’s got something on Ariel in that file of his. I can feel it,” Gretchen said. Her eyes were gleaming and she rubbed her hands together like she was kindling wood.

“I have to go,” Jessica muttered. “Lunch started five minutes ago, and they’ll be wondering where I am.” She couldn’t bring herself to say what she really wanted to say:
Let it go,
sweetie. Ariel isn’t the murderer. And we may never find out who is
.

Gretchen waved her away with an exaggerated flick of her wrist. “Go, then. Go have fun, and be popular.”

Jessica gave her a weary look. “This was your idea, Gretchen. You were the one who thought it made sense to pretend that we hate each other. You were the one who thought it would be better if only one of us was popular.”

“But you never argued that it should be you, did you? Admit it Jessica, weren’t you just a little bit worried that I might be more popular than you if we came back? Weren’t you just a little bit concerned that Nick Ford might pick me over you again?”

“I was, until I spent five minutes with him,” she said with a laugh.

But Gretchen wasn’t smiling.

Jessica’s cheeks flushed. “No, Gretchen. The only thing I was concerned about was finding your mother’s killer. About being your friend.”

Now Gretchen turned red, but not with anger. Something in her face told Jessica that she was embarrassed. Embarrassed and exposed. Jessica shook her head and let out a loud sigh before walking away, leaving Gretchen alone again as she retreated to the ruling table in the olive grove.

Ariel was already seated
at their table along with Molly Carson and a couple of other girls from the Oculus Society. Nick and Connor and some of their lacrosse team buddies were there as well.

“Where were you?” Ariel asked her. Jessica thought she sounded suspicious, prompting her to consider, as she often did, how much Ariel really knew. Did she know that Gretchen
still suspected her? Did she realize that this whole thing was one big set-up? Or that it was trying to be, at least?

“Nowhere,” Jessica said with a casual shrug. “I had to stay after class for a few minutes.” Jessica saw Ariel’s attention shift to something behind her, and she turned. Gretchen was crossing the olive grove; she took a seat at an empty table in the sun. Her face was red and blotchy; it was obvious that she’d been crying.
Great
, Jessica thought.
Now I’ve gone and upset her
.

Ariel shook her head and fixed her eyes back on Jessica. “It’s enough,” she said quietly but firmly. “This is ridiculous.” She stood up purposefully, but Jessica grabbed her arm.

“Don’t,” she hissed. “You don’t know what you’re doing.” Ariel hesitated, and Jessica knew she had her. “Just sit down, Ariel. This is what she wants.”

But Ariel shook free of Jessica’s grip. “Maybe it’s what she thought she wanted, but I don’t think it’s working out quite like she planned.” Jessica watched helplessly as Ariel strode over to Gretchen’s table and sat down next to her. People instantly began elbowing each other
—look at this
—and within seconds, the grove had become silent.

Molly Carson leaned across the table. “What is she doing?” she whispered to Jessica.

But Nick responded before Jessica had a chance to answer. “She’s being nice,” he said. He shot Jessica a dirty look. “She’s doing what we all should have done when she first came back here. The girl’s mother was murdered, for God’s sake.” Then he picked up his lunch and went over to join them. A few seconds later, everyone else followed him. Only Connor and Jessica were left at the table.

“Shit,” Connor said. He glanced anxiously at the other table, then at Jessica. “Why do you hate her so much?”

Jessica flushed. She wasn’t prepared to answer this right
now. She and Gretchen had managed to create enough speculation over their supposed former romance, they’d never needed to explain themselves. Whenever people had asked about it, she just said that she didn’t want to talk about it; that alone had always been enough to make people think they’d had some sort of lover’s quarrel. Leave it to Connor not to pick up on the signals.

“I don’t hate her,” she admitted. “It’s complicated.”

“Well, you look like a huge bitch right now.” He picked up his lunch and stood up, but he didn’t go over to the other table right away. He just stood there, glancing back and forth between Nick and Jessica.

Jessica sat for a second or two, trying to decide what to do.
It doesn’t matter anymore
, she finally realized.
Ariel’s right
. She got up and joined Connor at the other table. Soon after, the noise in the olive grove returned to normal.

It was only later
, after school—when the three of them were alone at the teepee in the park—that Jessica realized how much rage Gretchen still had bottled inside her. Her face was nearly purple, and her hands were balled up so tightly that her knuckles were white. “What were you thinking?” she shouted at Ariel. “Why did you bring all those people over to my table at lunch today?”

Jessica sighed. She’d been listening to Gretchen rant and rave all afternoon. “Look, Gretchen, for the last time, Ariel wasn’t trying to mess things up on purpose. She cares about you. For real.”

But Gretchen could not be assuaged. “She was there,” she said, lowering her voice, looking only at Jessica.

“Where?” Jessica asked.

“The graduation party. She was there.”

Jessica pursed her lips. They’d been through this so many times. “You don’t have any proof of that,” she reminded her.
She glanced at Ariel, expecting her to protest. But Ariel’s face had turned the color of an eggshell.

“Yes, I do.” Gretchen turned to Ariel now. Her voice was calm but with an edge. “Your mom told me,” she revealed. “When we projected. I told her that I’d heard the police were thinking about reopening the case. And she said that I shouldn’t worry about it. She said that the police had already questioned her twice and that there was no reason for them not to believe her about where you were that night. She said it was a good thing that nobody saw you at the party. But I did see you.”

Jessica’s hands suddenly felt clammy. She could hear the blood pounding in her ears. She turned to Ariel. “Is that true?” she breathed. “Were you really there?”

Ariel looked down at the ground. “Yes, but it’s not what you think—”

“Enough!” Gretchen cut her off. She was hysterical again. “You killed my mother!” she screamed. “I knew it was you!” Without warning, she lunged forward and grabbed Ariel by the throat. Ariel lost her balance and tipped backward, catching herself with her palms. Unable to use her hands to fight back, she drew her knees up to her chest and kicked Gretchen in the stomach with the soles of both feet.

“Stop it!” Jessica shouted, planting herself between them. “Both of you, stop it!”

Gretchen let go of Ariel, clutching her stomach as she returned to her spot on the ground. Ariel rubbed the red, irritated skin around her throat. They both glared at each other. Jessica crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Ariel, you’d better have a good explanation.”

Ariel swallowed a few times and cleared her throat. In a hurried and embarrassed jumble, the story came out: how
she’d come to Gretchen’s house that night to crash the party, how she’d peered through the window, how she’d changed her mind and left … how she was already running away when she’d heard the screams.

“That’s bullshit,” Gretchen spat.

But Jessica held her hand up. It wasn’t bullshit. She could tell from the terrified look on Ariel’s face. “Think about it, Gretchen. Yes, you saw her. Your suspicions are confirmed. But still, you only saw her outside, and only for a minute. Nobody saw her inside the house. Nobody. Her story makes sense.”

Ariel took a deep, shaky breath. “I just don’t understand why you think I would have wanted to kill your mother.”

Jessica kept quiet. This one was for Gretchen to answer. After a long silence, she finally spoke.

“Because you hated me. And because you hated the Oculus Society.”

“But there are other people you suspected,” Ariel pointed out. “I saw the files in your desk.”

“Their alibis all checked out,” Gretchen answered. “Yours was the only one that didn’t. I knew I had seen you that night. I was positive. So I never believed that you were home with your mother.” She paused. Her eyes had become watery. “But if you didn’t do it … then there’s nobody left to suspect.”

“I don’t understand,” Ariel murmured. “Why are you so sure that it only could have been me or those other women in your files?”

Gretchen shrugged. “Because you were the only one who hated me, and they were the only ones who knew about the anklet. And hating me or getting the anklet are the only motives I can think of for killing her. The police have questioned practically everyone else in town, and there’s nobody who would have wanted her dead for any other reason.”

Ariel looked confused. “But how do you know that nobody else knew about the anklet? Couldn’t someone in the Oculus Society have told someone else?”

“Only five other people in the Oculus Society knew about it,” Jessica said, “and they’re all sworn to secrecy. You don’t understand how seriously they take this. Nobody would tell. They just wouldn’t.”

“You did,” Ariel pointed out.

Jessica shook her head. “It’s different.”

“Not really. Doesn’t everyone rationalize why it’s okay to do something they’re not supposed to do? Couldn’t someone else think that their situation is different, too?”

“I guess,” Jessica said, but she didn’t really mean it. She simply couldn’t imagine any one of the other board members telling someone else about the Plotinus Ability.

“What about Michelle?” Ariel asked.

“She didn’t do it,” Gretchen said resignedly. “She was fooling around with some other guy.”

“Mike Renwick,” Ariel said, nodding. “I saw the picture of him in your files. Is that where she was at the time of the murder? With him?”

Gretchen nodded.

“That’s where she
said
she was,” Jessica corrected. “But we don’t know that for a fact.”

Gretchen rolled her eyes. “I caught her with him at the Club, remember? It makes sense.”

“Of course it makes sense. She’s smart. She wouldn’t tell a lie that doesn’t make sense.” Jessica exhaled loudly. Nobody understood just how cunning Michelle could be.

Ariel met Jessica’s eyes with a solemn, questioning stare. “I know you think she’s awful, but do you really think she’s capable of killing someone? I mean, she is your family.”

Jessica’s emotions rose up in her without warning. Her voice broke as she answered. “She’s
not
my family. My parents were my family. Michelle’s just a relative who’s raising me out of a sense of obligation.” Jessica wiped the tears from her eyes roughly, furious with them for being there. “The only family I have now is Rob.” She let out a harsh laugh. “And that’s pretty pathetic.”

Ariel opened her mouth, then closed it. She looked frightened about what she was about to say. “Let’s say Michelle didn’t do it. Could she have told someone else about the anklet?”

Jessica shook her head. Michelle was certainly capable of murder, but she was loyal to a fault—she would never betray a secret like this. Never. “No. She couldn’t have.” Jessica said it forcefully, as if it were the end of the discussion.

But Gretchen cocked her head to the side, as if she’d heard something in Ariel’s question that interested her. “Why?” she asked. “Is there someone you think she told?”

Ariel’s face turned grave. “Yes. I do.” She looked Jessica dead in the eye. “I’m sorry, Jess. But I think she told Rob.”