The Body Finder (2 page)

She unfolded it and tried to smooth it out a little so she could read it. As it turned out she didn't need to bother; she would have been able to read the unmistakably feminine handwriting if the paper had been on fire.

It was a phone number. For Jay. From Elisabeth Adams,
only the most popular girl in the school. She was the odds-on favorite to be Homecoming Queen this year, and most likely Prom Queen too. She was tan, blonde, pretty,
and
a senior. As if that wasn't bad enough, she also had the shiny, straight hair that Violet could only dream of.

This sucked.

Violet tried not to look too deer-in-the-headlights when she glanced back at him. “Wow” was all she could think of.

“I know.” Jay seemed as surprised as she was but still managed to appear pretty impressed with himself all the same. “She must have slid it into my locker while I was in first period.”

“You gonna call her?” Violet was careful not to sound petulant, but she certainly
felt
that way. She just wanted to be his friend again, to
not
care about whether he called this girl or not. She wanted to listen to the gory details and ask him probing questions that would eventually have them off on some random tangent and laughing at their own stupid, private jokes. But somehow, she just couldn't.

She felt deflated as she handed the note back to him.

The bell, and then the teacher, interrupted before Jay could answer her not-so-innocent question. Jay took the note and stuffed it into his binder as trig class got under way.

Violet tried to concentrate on sines and cosines as she took notes on everything the teacher wrote on the white-board in the front of the classroom, but she heard nothing. She couldn't stop thinking about how she was going to get over this…this
thing
she had for her very best friend in the whole world.

And she
had
to get over it…soon. Because if she didn't,
if she couldn't stop feeling so viral toward him, eventually it would infect their friendship, and there would be nothing she could do to stop it. She knew she couldn't let that happen.

He was Jay. He was the best person she'd ever known, and she couldn't imagine losing him.

She allowed herself to look his way, pretending she was glancing at the clock on the wall above the door. He was meticulously lost in the lesson, taking notes well beyond the scope of what was written on the board.

She was grateful that at least one of them was listening, because she knew he was going to have to explain it all to her later.

And he would, without ever knowing that
he
was the reason she hadn't heard a word of the lesson.

 

Violet avoided Jay at lunch—a first for her—opting instead to linger in her third-period English class under the pretext of finishing up some homework—homework that wasn't actually due until the beginning of the next week. She managed to put off leaving the classroom for almost twenty minutes.

Then she wandered to the bathroom, not really the kind of place anyone wanted to “hang out,” by any stretch of the imagination. But she took her time, washing her hands, redoing her ponytail, which didn't really improve the second time around, and then washing her hands again.

Other girls—some she knew and some she didn't—came and went while she was in there, primping and gossiping as they stood in front of the mirrors.

Violet took her cue from them and even put on lip gloss, which she almost never did. She had to dig into the bottom of her backpack just to find some.

When Chelsea walked in, Violet was actually relieved to see someone she could talk to, even if it was only for a few minutes.

“Where have you been?” Chelsea accused in her usual blunt tone. “Jay's been looking for you everywhere.” She perched in front of the mirror and began the familiar ritual of preening, starting at her hair and working her way down.

Like Jay, Chelsea had changed over the summer. Not so much developmentally—she'd already had the woman's body—but somehow she'd discovered her femininity overnight. Chelsea had always been sort of tomboy-ish and athletic. But it was as if she now recognized that there was more to life than spiking a volleyball into your opponent's court or pitching a perfect game in fast-pitch softball. She seemed to have finally realized that she was pretty too.

And like every other girl in school, Chelsea had the slick mane that practically gleamed when sunlight reflected off its perfect surface. She had even highlighted her glossy chestnut hair with thin blonde streaks that made her look like she'd spent the summer on a beach in California instead of on a softball diamond.

Next to Jay, Chelsea was Violet's closest friend. She was the friend it wasn't weird to have sleepovers with…unlike Jay. And the one she could share clothes with…unlike Jay. And Violet had always liked—and was even a little jealous
of—Chelsea's tell-it-like-it-is attitude, even when she didn't necessarily want to hear-it-like-it-was.

Now happened to be one of those times.

“Well?” Chelsea asked when Violet didn't answer her. “I swear that boy can't function without you, not even at lunch.”

Violet winced, but Chelsea didn't see it as she daintily rubbed the corner of her eye with her pinkie finger, making sure that none of her eyeliner had strayed from place. It hadn't; she looked perfect.

“He'll be fine.” Violet answered more glumly than she'd intended. “I'm sure someone else would be glad to sit with him.”

Chelsea looked up, finished with her own face, and stared at Violet's. “Well, it doesn't really matter. He's out in the hallway waiting. He asked me to come in here and look for you.”

Violet just stared, and then she laughed. Chelsea might actually be the only girl in school who hadn't noticed that Jay had changed, possibly because she was too wrapped up in her own transformation to be aware of anyone else's. Violet was grateful, at least, for small miracles.

When Violet didn't move, Chelsea grabbed her by the arm and started towing her toward the door. “Come on, before he starves to death and wastes away to nothing.”

“All right, all right,” Violet agreed as they drifted out of the girls' room to where Jay stood in the hallway, looking relieved to see her safe and sound at last.

Violet couldn't help feeling comforted to see that expression on his face. Maybe Chelsea was right after all. Maybe Jay
couldn't survive without her.

At least
that
feeling was mutual, because she couldn't imagine getting by without him either.

With just five minutes to spare, Violet and her best friend since the first grade had only enough time to raid the vending machines for chips and a candy bar, before rushing off to their fourth-period class.

But it was okay now. Somehow, realizing that he hadn't outgrown
her
during his summer metamorphosis made her feel better. She felt secure again, just knowing that she was as important to him as he was to her.

Everything was going to be fine.

THE RAIN MADE IT EASIER FOR HIM TO GET
around unnoticed. Those who sat inside their own cars had their views impaired by rain, foggy auto glass, and windshield wipers. Those outside were too busy trying to stay dry by moving quickly and keeping their heads down. The darkness only helped add to his invisibility.

Unfortunately the rain also kept people indoors.

Of course he was never truly invisible, not in the car he usually drove. It attracted attention and stares wherever he went, even on a dark, wet night like this one.

But tonight was different. Tonight he blended. He had become one of them.

He pulled out of the busy Wal-Mart parking lot in search of
smaller, duskier side streets with less traffic and fewer security cameras. As he drove he listened to the methodical beat of the windshield wipers as they swished back and forth…back and forth…back and forth.

Two girls, probably in their early teens, dashed across the painted lines of the crosswalk, arm in arm. They leaned in toward each other, and he could practically
hear
them giggling over some shared secret. He couldn't tell if they were pretty or not, but they were young. He watched their hips sway as they hurried to the other side of the road, and he liked seeing the way they moved.

But there were two of them. One more than he needed.

He silently congratulated them on their safe passage.
Lucky girls.

He turned off the main highway onto a side street with older, single-story homes, many of which had been converted into businesses as the city grew and zoning laws changed. The increasing traffic had chased the homeowners away. It was dark and deserted at this hour, which was well past the time a small hair salon or a chiropractor's office would still be open.

He turned again and again. As he drove farther from the highway, the main arterial through town, the roads became more and more narrow, and less and less traveled. Small neighborhood developments began to spring up on either side of him, but the entrances were dark and inactive.

That was when he saw the car. Its hazards flashing through the damp blackness of the night.

He slowed down as he drove past, peering into the interior of the stranded vehicle.

She was alone. Young and pretty, and alone.

This was better than he could have hoped for.

He turned his wheel sharply to the right, parking his own car directly in front of hers. He put on his best nice-guy smile as he got out of his car to see if he could
help
her.

He approached the vehicle, and he could see the hesitation on her face. She wasn't sure if she should trust him.
Smart girl.
But he knew he looked innocent enough, like someone she could count on, and within the space of seconds her instincts failed her.

She rolled down the window, not all the way, but enough so he could talk to her.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his practiced voice sounding like soft velvet. If he hadn't been concentrating he might have laughed at the false sincerity ringing through it.

She bit her lip. “I don't know. My tire's flat.”

Very pretty girl,
he thought from this close up. But he glanced down, trying to look interested in the tires. The two he could see appeared to be fine.

“Other side,” she said when she saw him looking. She seemed embarrassed then, and the innocent blush on her face made her even more attractive. She wrinkled her nose. “I don't know how to change a tire.”

He glanced around to make sure no one else was coming. The rain was running in small rivers down the back of his neck and soaking his shirt, but he barely noticed.

“Did you call someone?” This was the big question. This was where he found out whether she was the one or not. “Are your parents on their way?”

She didn't even see the trap she was walking into. Her parents must have warned her about strangers, but they should have prepared her better.

She shook her head, the pink on her cheeks making her look so pure. “I left my cell phone at home,” she admitted.

He thought about that for a moment, making it seem like he wasn't sure how to proceed, even though her words had already set his plan into action. He tapped the base of the window frame with his fingers as though weighing his options before finally speaking again. “Well, I'm not really equipped to change your tire, but I could give you a lift home.”

Her instincts kicked back in, and he knew from the look that flashed across her lovely face that she wasn't so sure. Maybe her parents had done a better job than he thought.

He tried to backpedal, to wipe that uncertain look from her face. “My cell phone's in the car. Is there someone you could call?”

She bit her lip again, chewing nervously. “Yeah. Okay, sure,” she said, flashing him her best you'd-be-doing-me-a-huge-favor smile. It was a smile that girls learned to do from a very young age, and one that she was particularly good at. “If you're sure you don't mind.”

He looked around again, to make sure they were still alone, even though he knew that they were.

He knew how to play this game. He
got off
on this game. He smiled back at her, trying to look protective and fatherly. “Of course not.” And then he said the words that would win her over once and for all. “If my wife knew I'd left you out here without help, she'd have my hide. Besides, you're only a couple of years older than our daughter, and I would want someone to help
her
if she were stranded.”

That was all it took. She was his.

He watched as she unbuckled her seat belt, and he felt a wave of excited electricity jolting through him. He couldn't believe his luck; she was almost making it too easy; she was going to come right to him.

He stood back as she opened her car door. “Thank you so much for doing this,” she said as she opened up an umbrella over her head. She held it out, offering him shelter beneath it as he led her to the right side of the car. “My parents are going to kill me for forgetting my phone; they're always nagging me about the importance of planning ahead.”

He looked down at her, thinking about how wise her parents sounded, and he was grateful that she hadn't taken them too seriously. But again he gave her his protective voice. “They're right, you know. You can never be too careful.” He opened the passenger-side door and leaned inside.

She was surprised when he came back out without a phone but with something else instead. Her eyes widened in fear as first recognition and then panic dawned across her exquisitely expressive face.

But before she could even scream, he was on her, shoving her hard against the car's interior and whispering into her ear as he held his hand over her mouth. “Make it easy on yourself. I promise I won't hurt you.” He needed to make her understand that…it was important to him that she know he wasn't planning to harm her.

He saw the terror in her eyes as she curled up into a protective ball, shivering and silent as the silver duct tape held her mouth closed.

“I swear to you…I won't hurt you…”
He whispered the words over and over again while he popped the trunk and set her inside gently.

His promise made, he smoothed her hair tenderly with his hand before slamming the trunk shut.

He whistled to himself as he pulled his car back onto the road.

It had been a good night.