Two Can Keep a Secret (25 page)

Ellery

Monday, October 7

I know the script. I’ve read it in countless books, and seen it play out dozens of times on television. All week, in the back of my mind, I knew how it would probably end.

What I didn’t understand was how mind-numbingly awful it would feel.

At least I’m not alone. Ezra and Malcolm are in the living room with me Monday afternoon, six hours after the Huntsburg police found Brooke. None of us went to school today, although Malcolm’s day was more eventful than ours. He showed up an hour ago, bruised and battered, and Nana has been handing him fresh ice packs every fifteen minutes.

We’re arranged stiffly on her uncomfortable furniture, watching Channel 5 news coverage scroll across the screen. Meli Dinglasa is standing on Echo Ridge Common, her dark hair whipping across her face as the leafy branches behind her rattle in the wind.

She’s been talking nonstop since we turned the TV on, but only a few phrases sink in: …
dead for more than a week … foul play suspected but not confirmed … yet another taunting message found this morning near Echo Ridge High School …

“Great timing, Katrin,” Ezra mutters.

Malcolm’s sitting next to me on the couch. One side of his jaw is bruised and swollen, the knuckles on his right hand are scraped raw, and he winces every time he moves. “Someone needs to pay this time,” he says in a low, angry voice. His right hand is resting on the couch between us. I take it in mine, being careful to avoid the cuts. His skin is warm, and his fingers wrap around mine without hesitation. For a couple of seconds I feel better, until I remember that Brooke is dead and everything is horrible.

Every time I close my eyes, I see her. Working the shooting range at Fright Farm, trying to stand up to Vance. Wandering the halls at Echo Ridge High looking sad and worried. Swaying and rambling her way out of the Fright Farm office on the night she disappeared. I should have pushed her harder to tell us what was wrong. I had a chance to change the course of that night, and I blew it.

When my phone rings with the familiar California number, I almost don’t answer it. Then I figure, what the hell. The day can’t possibly get any worse.

“Hi, Sadie,” I say tonelessly.

“Oh, Ellery. I saw the news. I’m so, so sorry about your friend. And I saw—” She pauses, her voice wavering. “I saw your email. I wasn’t sure what I was looking at until I zoomed in on the uniform and saw … his name.”

“Did you think it was Ezra at first? Because I sure did.” I’m surprised to find that beneath the heavy misery of Brooke’s death, I can still manage to spare an undercurrent of anger for my mother. “How could you not tell us? How could you let us live a lie for seventeen years and think our father was
José the freaking stuntman
?” I don’t bother keeping my voice down. It’s not like anyone in the room doesn’t know what’s going on.

“It wasn’t a total lie,” Sadie says. “I wasn’t
sure,
Ellery. The stuntman happened. And, well … Gabriel Rodriguez also happened, a little while afterward.” Her voice drops. “Sleeping with a married man was a huge mistake. I never should have gone there.”

“Yeah, well, he shouldn’t have either.” I don’t have any empathy to spare for the man in that photograph. He doesn’t feel like my father. He doesn’t feel like anything. Besides, keeping the marital vows was
his
job. “But why did you?”

“I wasn’t thinking straight. My father was gone, memories of Sarah were everywhere, and I just— I made a bad choice. Then the timing of the pregnancy fit better with the, um … other situation, and I wanted that to be true, and so … I convinced myself that it was.”

“How?” I look at Ezra, who’s staring at the floor with no indication that he’s hearing any of this. “How did you convince yourself of that when—what was his name again?
Gabriel?
—looked exactly like Ezra?”

“I didn’t remember what he looked like,” Sadie says, and I snort out a disbelieving laugh. “I’m not kidding. I told you before, I drank my way through the entire funeral.”

“Okay. But you remembered enough that you knew he was a possibility, right? That’s why you were so shifty the first time I mentioned Officer Rodriguez.”

“I— Well, yes. It rattled me,” she admits.

“So you lied to cover it up. You made up a story about Officer Rodriguez at Lacey’s funeral, and you made me suspicious of him.”

“What?” Sadie sounds bewildered. “Why would that make you suspicious of him? Suspicious about what?”

“That’s not the point!” I snap. “The point is it
did,
and then I didn’t ask him for help when I could have, and now Brooke is dead and maybe—” I stop, all the anger suddenly drained out of me, remembering how I hadn’t told anyone what we’d found in the Fright Farm recycling bin for an entire weekend. Keeping secrets that weren’t mine to hold. Like mother, like daughter. “Maybe I made everything worse.”

“Made what worse? Ellery, I’m sure you didn’t do anything wrong. You can’t blame yourself for—”

“Ellery.” Nana sticks her head into the living room. “Officer Rodriguez is here. He said you called him?” Her eyes fasten on the phone at my ear. “Who are you talking to?”

“Just someone from school,” I answer Nana, then turn back to the phone. “I have to go,” I tell Sadie, but before I can disconnect, Ezra holds out his hand.

“Let me talk,” he says, and his voice holds the same dull fury that mine did. It takes a lot to make the two of us mad, especially at Sadie. But she managed.

I hand Ezra the phone and tug Malcolm to his feet, so we can follow Nana into the hallway. Ryan is standing in front of the door, his face sad and haggard. I don’t know how I ever thought he looked young for his age. “Hey, guys,” he says. “I was just heading home when I got your message. What’s so urgent?” He catches sight of Malcolm’s swollen jaw, and his eyes widen. “What happened to you?”

“Kyle McNulty,” Malcolm says shortly.

“You want to press charges?” Ryan asks.

Malcolm grimaces. “No.”

“Maybe you can convince him to change his mind,” I say. “In the meantime, I have this kind of … theory about Kyle. That’s why I called you.” I lick my lips, trying to get my thoughts in order. “I ran into Officer McNulty this morning, and—”

Ryan frowns. “Where did you run into Officer McNulty?”

I wave my hand dismissively. “That part’s not important.” I don’t want to get sidetracked with a lecture about not going home when Ryan told me to. “But it got me thinking about Kyle, and how connected he is to everything that’s been happening around here. Declan broke up with his sister, Liz, and that was a whole big thing while you guys were in school, right?” Ryan nods warily, like he has no idea where I’m headed and isn’t sure he wants to find out. Malcolm looks the same. I haven’t shared any of this with him yet. I wasn’t sure I’d have the energy to do it more than once.

“Then Lacey dies and Declan’s basically run out of town,” I continue. “And now, five years later, Brooke breaks up with Kyle. And Brooke disappears. And Kyle and Katrin are friends, and we already know Katrin is involved in the homecoming threats, so …” I steal a glance at Ryan to see how he’s taking all this. He doesn’t look as impressed as I’d hoped. “Basically, I think they’re all in it together. Liz, Kyle, and Katrin.”

“That’s your new theory?” Ryan asks. I don’t appreciate the somewhat sardonic emphasis he puts on the word
new.
Malcolm just sags against the wall, like he’s too exhausted to get into any of this right now.

“Yes,” I say.

Ryan folds his arms. “It doesn’t concern you that Liz and Kyle have alibis?”

“They’re each other’s alibi!” I say. It only makes me more sure I’m on to something.

“So you think … what? We just took their word for it?”

“Well. No.” A trickle of doubt seeps in. “Did somebody else see them?”

Ryan rakes a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t tell you this, it’s not your business. But maybe it’ll get you to stop trying to do my job and trust me. For once.” He lowers his voice. “An entire
fraternity
saw them. There are pictures. And video. Time-stamped and posted on social media.”

“Oh,” I say in a small voice, embarrassment warming my cheeks.

He makes a frustrated noise in his throat. “Will you knock it off now? Please? I appreciate you coming to me this morning, but like I told you, at this point, you’re more likely to hurt the investigation than help if you keep talking about it. In fact …” He shoves his hands into his pockets and slides his eyes toward Malcolm. “If you could stay with friends for a day or two, Malcolm, I think you should do that.”

Malcolm goes stiff. “Why? Is something happening with Katrin? Was it the video, or—”

“I’m not talking about anything specific. But tensions are running high, and I …” Ryan pauses, like he’s searching for exactly the right words. “I wouldn’t want you to accidentally say something to her that could … interfere.”

“Interfere how?” Malcolm asks.

“It’s just a suggestion. Consider it, all right?”

“Should I be worried about her?” Malcolm asks. “Doing something, I mean?” Ryan doesn’t answer, and Malcolm glowers. “It’s bullshit that she’s just walking around like nothing happened. You have proof she’s shady and you’re not doing anything with it.”

“You have no idea what we’re doing.” Ryan’s face doesn’t change, but his tone gets steely. “I’m asking you to lie low. That’s it. All right?” We nod, and he clears his throat. “How is, ah, everything else, Ellery? With your mom and … you know?”

“Horrible,” I say. “But who really cares, right?”

He heaves a sigh that sounds as bone-deep exhausted as I feel. “Right.”

Malcolm

Thursday, October 10

Turns out I didn’t need to leave the house. Katrin did.

Her aunt swooped in two days after Brooke’s body was found. She wanted to take Katrin to New York, but the Echo Ridge police asked her not to leave the state while the investigation is pending. So they’re at some five-star hotel in Topnotch, instead. Which pisses me off every time I think about it. Of all the possible scenarios I thought might happen once I turned over that video of Katrin, her taking a spa vacation wasn’t one of them.

“So much for keeping all the key witnesses nearby,” Declan snorts when I tell him. “We were all told we had to stay in Echo Ridge when Lacey died. Money talks, I guess.”

I’m at his apartment, having dinner with him and Daisy. It’s weird for a few reasons. One, I’ve never seen my brother cook before. Two, he’s surprisingly good at it. And three, I can’t get used to seeing him with Daisy. My brain keeps wanting to replace her with Lacey, and it’s kind of unnerving.

He doesn’t know about the car repair receipt, or the video I took of Katrin. I’m keeping my promise to Officer Rodriguez to stay quiet. It’s not hard with Declan. We might be getting along better than usual, but he still talks a lot more than he listens.

“Peter didn’t want her to go,” I say, shifting in my chair and wincing at the pain in my ribs. Turns out they’re only bruised, not cracked, but they still hurt like hell. “Katrin’s aunt insisted.”

“Getting away isn’t a bad idea, though,” Daisy says. She and Declan are washing dishes while I sit at the kitchen table, and she keeps brushing against him even though there’s plenty of room for two in front of the double sink. “It’s so horrible, those first few days after. All you can think about is what you could have done differently. At least a new environment is a distraction.” She sighs and flips the towel she’s holding over her shoulder, leaning into Declan. “I feel for Katrin, honestly. This brings back such awful memories of Lacey.”

Declan kisses the top of her head, and the next thing I know they’re whispering, nuzzling, and about ten seconds away from a full-on make-out session. It’s uncomfortable, not to mention crap timing after what we’ve just been talking about. I realize they’ve been suppressing their big forbidden love for years, but I could’ve used another half hour. Minimum.

When the doorbell rings, I’m relieved at the interruption. “I’ll get it,” I volunteer, springing up as fast as my bruised ribs will let me.

Too fast, as it turns out. Even though Declan’s front door is only steps away from the kitchen, I’m still wincing when I open it. Officer Ryan Rodriguez is standing on Declan’s stoop, wearing his full police uniform. He blinks in surprise when he sees me. “Oh, hey, Malcolm. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Um. Same,” I say. “Are you …” I try to think of a reason why he might be here, and can’t come up with one. “What’s up?”

“Is your brother around?”

“Yeah, come on in,” I say, and he steps through the door.

Declan and Daisy have managed to separate by the time we enter the kitchen. “Hey, Declan,” Officer Rodriguez says, folding his arms in front of him like a shield. I know that stance; it’s the one I get around Kyle McNulty. I don’t remember much about Ryan from high school, since he and Declan didn’t hang out, but I do know this: if you weren’t part of Declan’s crew, chances are he would’ve treated you like shit at some point. Not slamming you into lockers, necessarily, but acting like your existence annoyed him. Or pretending you didn’t exist at all.

“And … Daisy,” Officer Rodriguez adds.

Crap. I swallow nervously and look at Declan. I forgot nobody’s supposed to know those two are together. My brother doesn’t acknowledge me, but I can see the muscles in his jaw tighten as he steps slightly in front of Daisy.

At least they aren’t shoving their tongues down one another’s throats anymore.

“Ryan, hi!” Daisy says, with the kind of forced cheerfulness I’ve noticed she uses whenever she’s stressed. Unlike Mia, who just glares extra hard. “Nice to see you again.”

Declan, on the other hand, cuts to the chase. “What are you doing here?”

Officer Rodriguez clears his throat. “I have a few questions for you.”

Everybody goes still. We’ve heard that before.

“Sure,” Declan says, a little too casually. We’re all still standing in his cramped little kitchen, and he gestures to the kitchen table. “Have a seat.”

Officer Rodriguez hesitates, his eyes flicking toward me. “I could, or … do you want to step outside for a minute? Not sure if you want your brother here, or—” He rocks back and forth on his heels, and suddenly I can see all the nervous bumbling Ellery was talking about. It’s like the guy is regressing by the minute in Declan’s and Daisy’s presence.

“No,” Declan says shortly. “This is fine.”

Officer Rodriguez shrugs and lowers himself into the nearest chair, folding his hands on the table while he waits for Declan to sit across from him. Daisy drops beside Declan, and since I can’t think of anything else to do and nobody’s asked me to leave, I take the last chair. Once we’re all seated, Officer Rodriguez focuses his gaze on Declan and says, “Could you tell me your whereabouts the Saturday before last? September twenty-eighth?”

I feel almost exactly like I did the morning that Brooke disappeared, when I realized I’d have to tell Officer McNulty that I was the last person to see her.
No. This can’t be happening.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Declan doesn’t answer right away, and Officer Rodriguez clarifies, “The night Brooke Bennett disappeared.”

Panic starts worming its way into my chest as Declan’s voice rises. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he asks. Daisy puts a hand on his arm.

Officer Rodriguez’s voice is mild, but firm. “No. I am not kidding you.”

“You want to know where I was the night a girl disappeared. Why?”

“Are you refusing to answer the question?”

“
Should
I?”

“He was with me,” Daisy says quickly.

I study her, trying to get a read on whether she’s telling the truth. Her pretty face is suddenly all hard lines and angles, so maybe she’s lying. Or maybe she’s just scared.

Some emotion flits across Officer Rodriguez’s face, but it’s gone before I can figure out what it is. “Okay. And may I ask where you two were?”

“No,” Declan says, at the same time Daisy replies, “Here.”

I still can’t tell if she’s lying.

It goes on like that for a few minutes. Daisy smiles like her teeth hurt the whole time. A dull red flush creeps up Declan’s neck, but Officer Rodriguez seems to be getting progressively at ease.

“All right,” he says finally. “If I could switch gears for a minute. Have you ever been to Huntsburg?”

Daisy’s eyes widen as Declan goes rigid. “Huntsburg,” he repeats. This time he doesn’t state the obvious:
You’re asking me if I’ve ever been to the town where Brooke’s body was discovered?

“Right,” Officer Rodriguez says.

“No,” Declan growls.

“Never?”

“Never.”

“Okay. One last thing.” Officer Rodriguez digs into his pocket and pulls out something in a sealed plastic bag that glints under the cheap track lighting in Declan’s kitchen. “This was found in Huntsburg, in the same general area as Brooke’s body. Does it look familiar to you?”

My blood turns to ice. It does to me.

The ring is big and gold with the words “Echo Ridge High” etched around a square purple stone. The number 13 is on one side, and the initials “DK” on another. Declan’s class ring, although he never wore it. He gave it to Lacey junior year, and she kept it on a chain around her neck. I haven’t seen it in years. Not since before she died.

It never occurred to me, until just now, to wonder where it went.

Daisy pales. Declan pushes back from the table, his face expressionless. “I think we’re done talking,” he says.

It’s not enough to make an arrest, I guess, because Officer Rodriguez leaves after Declan stops answering his questions. Then Declan, Daisy, and I sit silently in the kitchen for the longest minute of my life. My thoughts blur together, and I can’t look at either of them.

When Declan finally speaks up, his voice is stilted. “I haven’t seen that ring since before Lacey died. We argued about it. We’d been fighting all week. All I wanted to do was break things off, but … I didn’t have the guts to come right out and say it. So I asked her for my ring back. She wouldn’t give it to me. That was the last time I ever saw it. Or her.” His hands are clenched into tight fists. “I have no clue how it ended up in Huntsburg.”

Daisy’s chair is angled toward him. Her hand is on his arm again. “I know,” she murmurs.

Damn it all to hell, I
still
can’t tell if she’s lying. I can’t tell if anyone’s lying.

Declan hasn’t ever told that story before. Maybe he didn’t remember the ring till just now, either. Maybe he didn’t want to remind anyone of how much he and Lacey had been fighting before she died.

Or maybe it didn’t happen.

It’s been creeping up on me for weeks now how little I know my brother. When I was really young he was like a superhero to me. Later, he was more like a bully. After Lacey died, he turned into a ghost. He’s helped me out since Brooke’s body was discovered—but until then, all he’d done was lie and sneak around.

And now I can’t shut off that corner of my brain that keeps asking,
What if?

“Fuck you, Mal.” Declan’s voice makes me jump. His neck is still brick red, his expression thunderous. “You think I can’t tell what’s running through your head right now? It’s written all over your face. You think I did it, don’t you? You always have.” I open my mouth to protest, but no words come. His face darkens even further. “Get the hell out of here. Just leave.”

So I do. Because the answer isn’t
yes,
but it’s not
no,
either.