“It broke. The police found the clasp by the rosebush.”
“Tell them to give it back. It was custom made for me by Karl.” She looked at Pete, flirtatious now. “Karl is a personal friend of mine.”
“Ah.”
“Aha!” she said, and looked at him expectantly. “Now you say ‘ah ha ha ha.’ Like a game.”
Pete said to me instead, “We should be moving along.”
“Don’t go!” Elsa looked panicked. “Stay awhile. Have some tea and crumpets.”
It was a little scary to see her like this, so out of it. I hoped like hell it wasn’t how I looked to other people. “We really have to leave,” I told her. “But you’ve been super-helpful.”
Despite her craziness, that was more true than she could know. Because now I knew who had said I was a goner. And I knew it wasn’t someone trying to kill me. Which meant the Barney Brothers could be the ones who hit me. And even though it also meant I’d made up the calls—no doubt because of my medication—I felt a huge sense of relief.
“But—you haven’t seen my photos yet.”
“What photos?”
“The pictures from the parrrrteee,” she sang. She cocked her head toward Pete. “I know you want to see them, don’t you, bad boy.”
“Peter would love to see your pictures,” I answered for him.
He looked at the clock. It was one minute to eleven. “Quickly.”
Elsa leered at him and pointed with her right hand to a camera sitting on a shelf by the wall. “Bring it to me.”
He did and she started flipping one handed through the images on the screen in the back. “These are all the ones from the party.” She made a coy face. “Don’t show that to Jane.”
“What?” I asked.
Peter held the camera for me to see. It showed David with Sloan on his lap. Her eyes looked glazed and her head was lolling back like she was unconscious. Charming.
Elsa took the camera back and flipped some more, humming to herself as she did. “Ooh, this is a good one.”
Pete tilted the screen so I could see it. It showed Langley on her hands and knees on the floor looking like a dog searching for a bone.
“Woof woof,” Elsa said.
“What was she doing?” I asked.
“Reverting to her true self?” Elsa laughed at her joke but suddenly went somber. She looked more sane, more focused than she had since we’d come in. “I’m sorry I took this one. I shouldn’t have.” Pete held the camera toward me.
The screen was with me sprawled against a wall with my eyes only partially open. My forehead was propped on my left hand and my right was held up toward the camera to ward it off.
My friendship ring wasn’t on either hand.
Apparently this wasn’t the end of my questions after all.
“That was unusual,” Pete said as he wheeled me back to my room. “You really have some very interesting friends. I’ll have to watch that DVD your pals made after all.”
“She’s not normally like that.”
“That’s a relief. Did you learn what you wanted to?”
“I don’t know.” How could a ring vanish and then reappear on the wrong finger? “Have you ever felt like you’re losing your mind? Or like everyone else around you is?”
“Yep.”
I took a long ragged breath as he maneuvered my chair into the elevator.
He cleared his throat. As the doors of the elevator closed, he said, “The drugs I was found with, the ones your mom mentioned, belonged to a girl I knew.”
“You don’t have to tell me this. It was none of my business.”
“I want to. Besides, it’s relevant. This girl was trying to get clean and she asked me to go through her place and find all her stashes so she couldn’t relapse. I went through everything, you name it, and even though I found a pharmacy worth of crap, I knew I kept missing something. Finally I found it, her last two grams of coke. She’d hidden it in her dog’s prosthetic leg.”
I craned my neck around to look at him. His jaw was tight and his hair was a little ruffled and for a moment I was distracted by how hot he was. Then I remembered what I meant to say. “You weren’t kidding about that story?”
He put his hand on my head and turned it back around. “Eyes forward. No twisting in the chair. And nope, I wasn’t kidding. Totally true. And you didn’t believe me.” He sounded hurt.
“That’s not fair,” I protested. “It sounded—specious.”
The elevator doors opened and he pushed me out. “I’m kidding. But my father doesn’t believe me about the drugs. He thinks I’m trying to pull the proverbial ‘just holding them for a friend.’”
“But you really were.”
“Impossible to prove.”
“Why can’t you have her tell your dad?”
“Him take the word of a junkie? You’ve got to be kidding. Besides, she’s not around anymore.”
“What happened? Did she get clean and move?”
“She was clean for three months. Then she disappeared and I sort of doubt it was to live a clean awesome life.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.” His voice had a note of strain in it that was different than his usual self-mockery, and incredibly touching.
“And now you’re the one who’s in trouble. So it wasn’t worth it.”
“It’s always worth it to do the right thing, even if you don’t succeed.” He laughed, deep and sexy. The strain was gone. “God, I sound like an asshole. Plus without that, what excuse would I have for my lousy relationship with my father?”
“Are you saying you like your bad relationship with your dad?”
“People find patterns—the familiar—comforting, even if it’s unhealthy. It takes someone really brave to confess they’re wrong and try to make it right.”
I let that sink in for a moment. “So is that why you want to go to law school? To make sure people get heard properly?”
“Could be. Or maybe I’m just a bastard and I want to make an obscene amount of money by milking other people’s misery.”
“I’m frightened by how excited you sound when you say that.” I couldn’t help but smile, no matter how much it hurt.
Chapter 30
Sott was pacing my room when we got back. “Where were you? I was so worried.” He glanced at the clock. It was a quarter after eleven.
“No way,” Pete said, stopping at the door and pulling me back. “No way am I leaving you alone with this guy.”
“He’s my friend. He’s fine.” I grinned at Scott and gave him a little wave.
“Are you nuts? He’s way too good looking. Get lost, buddy.”
Scott laughed. “He’s kidding, right?” he said to me.
“I assume so. You never know. Pete,” I said over my shoulder, “it’s okay, you can go.”
He shook his head ruefully, said, “And I thought I was handsome,” leaned down to whisper to me, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” brushed his hands as if washing them of the matter, and disappeared.
Scott watched him go. “Who is that guy?” He started walking toward me, slowly, as a smile spread over his face. “Never mind, I don’t care. God, I’m crazy about you. Even looking so perfectly imperfect, like this.”
“I’m glad,” I said. I smiled, but I was momentarily aware of something very slight tugging it down in the corners.
Scott bent over and put his hands on the arms of the wheelchair and brought his lips to mine. “And you taste good too.” The mental tugging vanished.
After a little while he pulled away. “How are your toes?”
“Tingly,” I reported. “Also wriggly.”
“Outstanding. Think you’re ready for an outing?”
“Sure. Where are we going?”
“There’s a small executive dining room on the second floor that’s not in use today since it’s a holiday,” he said. “It happens to be perfect for a picnic.”
“How did you swing that?”
He
winked. “I have my ways.” I could imagine the entire scheduling staff of the hospital capitulating to his ways. “I’ve already gotten the okay from Loretta as long as you take your cell phone. If you’re ready, we can go.”
“I wish I had something a little less hospital chic to wear.”
“Don’t worry, I love you for your mind.” Something about him saying “I love you,” even just as a joke, sent a weird twinge through my body. I mean, we were friends, and maybe Kate had been right about him having a thing for me all the way back in the fall, but we’d only kissed for the first time yesterday. It wasn’t like either of us knew what this was.
Scott installed me in the posh executive dining room and went to the kitchen down the hall to get what he called “provisions.” While he was gone, my cell phone rang.
The caller ID flashed David. My heart leaped up for a second, out of habit, and then thudded. I debated about answering it, remembered how he had looked in the doorway, and finally gave in.
“Hey, babe. How are you feeling today?”
“Better.”
“Listen, I know things got rough yesterday, but I wanted to tell you, I forgive you. I know you’re just stressed. But we’re too good together to let this fade.”
“You forgive me?”
“Of course, babe.”
The old me would have let that slide, not wanted to say something upsetting. The new me was angry. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I can’t believe you got together with Sloan just because Elsa told you about the internship.”
“Internship? What are you talking about?’
“My internship this summer? In the city.”
“Are you on some new meds?”
“What did Elsa tell you? That made you ditch me and get together with someone else?”
“Why are you still harping on that? Water under the bridge, babe.”
“I just want to know.”
“She came to find you because your little buddy Scott was outside waiting for you. I couldn’t just sit there and be humiliated, could I?”
He went on, but I wasn’t listening. Scott had been at the party? That was why David was so upset—he thought I’d been sneaking around with Scott behind his back.
Wait. If Scott was at the party, why hadn’t he told me? Why had he pretended he wasn’t there? Why—
Scott had somehow managed to come up behind me silently. He took the cell phone from my hand and ended the call.
“I know you had to bring it, but I don’t think we’ll be wanting any intrusions.”
His voice sounded different to me. Tighter. “I want it to be just you and me. All alone.”
He turned my wheelchair so it was facing him and put his hands on my legs. I realized I was starting to regain feeling. I couldn’t move them, but I could feel the slight pressure of his palms.
His deep-brown eyes were glittering strangely. “I’ve been waiting so long for this, Jane. So long to have you all to myself. Look, I have a surprise for you.”
He pointed to a series of photos arrayed on the table. One of them showed a Kleenex, another a straw wrapper. There was a lipstick kiss blotted on a Spanish flash card, a sock with a hole in the toe, and a wilted rose. “Do you know what those are?”
I shook my head.
His breathing was uneven. “They’re my trophies. Of you.”
I remembered what Ollie had said about Scott. That he kept creepy trophies of one of his girlfriends. Had that been me?
“This one”—Scott pointed to the photo of the white paper tube—“is the paper from your straw that you squished the day we were in New York. This”—pointing at the one of the Spanish flash cards—“you dropped one day when you had coffee with friends at Starbucks. Some of this I had to get from your trash.”
“You went through my trash?” I felt like I was going to throw up. How had I not seen this? How had I ignored all those warnings? Scott. Scott had been at the party.
He cocked his head. “Why don’t you look happy?”
“Why did you try to kill me?”
“Kill you? I love you. You’re—you’re everything. Look at all the time and effort I’ve put into learning about you. I know everything about you.” He reached for me.
“Don’t touch me. If you come any closer, I’ll scream.”
He laughed at that, a laugh with a cold edge. “Who would hear? As you’ve noticed, it’s pretty isolated here.”
“You were there that night. At the party. You lied to me.”
“You mean the night you wouldn’t return my calls.” His voice got tight. “The night I called you four times, but you couldn’t bother to get back to me?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was important.”
In an instant the tension eased. “That’s okay. I know it was hard then. With loser David still in the picture. Do you know what it was like those nights sitting outside your house knowing he was in your room with you? But that won’t happen again.” His eyes burned into mine with all his wonted intensity. But now instead of being intriguing, it was unnerving. Very.
“No.” Keep him calm, I told myself. “Of course not. Why were you calling me?”
“I’d heard some Livingston guys trying to score roofies for the party to spike girls’ drinks, that there was going to be some kind of competition over who could hit the most girls, and I wanted to warn you to be careful.”
“Why didn’t you leave me a voice mail about that?”
He smiled sheepishly. “I guess I also wanted to hear your voice. But you wouldn’t call me back or reply to my texts. I was going to your house when you passed me in the back of Langley’s red car.”
“How did you know what kind of car Langley drives?”
“I know all about you. Everything. You and photography are my main fields of study. And I’m a very quick study. I know that you don’t like it when David kisses you on the neck, even though you pretend you do. Especially at the movies.”
Scott’s eyes went to my neck and then back to my mouth. I felt completely nauseous. “You see. I am an expert on Jane Freeman. Which means I know exactly how to make you happy.”
I pushed my disgust down. The only important thing to do now was find out what else he knew. “I’m impressed,” I said, hoping my voice didn’t sound as fake as it felt. “What did you do when you saw Langley’s car?”
“I did a U-turn, followed you out to Deal, and parked outside the party, trying to decide what to do.”
“Why didn’t you just come in?”
“Not really my scene, J. J., you know that. But then Elsa came out and tried to get me to make out with her.”
“Elsa?”
“She’s been hitting on me since camp. Gotten to the ugly stage where she says, ‘You’re waiting for Jane, but you’ll never have her,’ and shit like that. I knew she’d be wrong.” He reached out to stroke my hair.
I stopped his hand. “What happened then?”
He looked at me quizzically. “But you love having your hair stroked.”
I felt like my stomach was trying to crawl up my throat. I swallowed, hard. “In a little while. Tell me, what happened with Elsa?”
“I told her to tell you I was outside and wanted to talk to you, but you didn’t come back. I was just about to storm the battlements myself when I saw you come out with one of your girlfriends, so I assumed you were okay and I took off. But man, I felt bad the next day when I heard what happened. I knew I should have stayed. That you needed me.”
“What girlfriend did I come out with?”
“One of the ones wearing wings. Why do you rich people dress up so weird anyway?”
“But which one?”
“I couldn’t see. It was dark and raining.” He got up and started pacing. “Why are you giving me the third degree? I left after that. And I’ve done nothing but help you. I care for you so much.” He bent to kiss me and I pulled away.
“What’s wrong, J. J.?”
“This. What we’re doing. I can’t go thro
ugh with it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m not going out with you. It was a mistake. I was doing it for the wrong reasons. Whatever there is between us is better as friends.”
He looked like he’d been slapped, even started to rub his cheek. “You don’t mean that. You can’t mean that. We’re perfect together.” He paused and got a wild expression in his eye. “Wait a second.” Grabbing my phone, he checked the caller ID. “I knew it. That bastard, David. The ‘stay soft’ man. He called you and you’re getting back together with him.”
“No. It has nothing to do with him. You—you stalked me.”
He laughed. “Stalked you? I tried to protect you. I memorized you, learned everything I could about you so I could love you. It’s exactly what a good photographer does for his subject. Is that a crime?”
“I just don’t feel the same way about you as you do about me.”
His chiseled handsome face showed incredulity and something else. I saw a bead of sweat starting to form at his temple. “No. You don’t feel, period. You’re terrified of feeling, aren’t you?” He bent and put his face near mine. His expression was mean. “Scared of getting carried away. That’s why everything in your photos is cold and dead. Because you’re cold and dead. Or close enough.”
“I’m sorry, Scott. It’s just not right.”
“Not right? Do you want to know what’s not right?”
He was really sweating now and his eyes were bulging out. He was no longer handsome at all. He went to a big backpack he’d propped in a chair and pushed things around inside it until he found what he was looking for. “I’m not the bad guy here. I’m the good guy. You want to know who the bad guy is? Look at that.”
He threw a piece of paper on the table. “I hope you’re happy,” he said, storming out. Leaving me alone with a Xerox copy of an auto-body repair estimate from the day after the party for an Audi A4 bumper registered to David Tisch.
Vehicle hit a post is what it said. I realized it was true. I’d been dumb as a post anyway.
Rosebush Page 24