The Girl In White

by Shannon Reber

  “And you said their dad is a cop.”

  “What did you find, Maddie?”

  I turned the laptop so he could see it more clearly. “Adrian Ezra was at that party. There was no statement given by her. Several people said they saw her but no one could find her when they were interviewing people.”

  I turned my laptop and began searching. It didn’t take long to find what I was looking for. I didn’t understand in the least. Adrian was a girl I had barely noticed at school. Her grades were either fails or incompletes. She had dropped out of high school shortly after Emma’s death.

  I continued to search and finally found her. She had moved in with her grandparents. She hadn’t returned to school. She now worked at a burger joint. It was like one of those cautionary tales of what happened when teenage girls dropped out of high school.

  I turned to look at Ian again, my hands folded in front of me. “Why did you accuse Spencer?” I asked, worry beginning to fill my heart and mind.

  He frowned at the table in front of him, his hands clenched into fists. “I don’t trust him. Never did.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s trouble.”

  I shrugged. “So am I. What made him different in your mind than me?” I asked, hoping to cut through his closed-mindedness and force him to tell me the real truth.

  He stared at the table for a while before he looked at me. “Why do you trust him?” he demanded, his voice a little hard.

  “At first it was because of the way he looked at Imogen. She’s cool but doesn’t date much because guys don’t get her. Spencer looked at her like she was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen. He was nervous, too.”

  “So you trust him because he looked at your friend in a way you liked,” he held up a finger before I could speak. “I saw him look at Emma kind of like that. I didn’t like it at all because he’s a couple of years older than me and he was into my sister. He’s not a good guy, Madison. If you can stop Imogen from going out with him, you should.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. It was all so disturbing. I’d thought Spencer was a great guy. What if I really had been wrong?

  I’d been wrong about Ian. Could I have misjudged another person in an entirely different way? Could I trust my instincts at all? I had no idea and that bothered me, a lot.

  To give myself something that could be understood, I began searching through Spencer's files. In all honesty, it was a sad read. His life had been full of many troubles and sorrows.

  He had been adopted when he was eight. Mr. Ezra had tried to annul the adoption of him after Mrs. Ezra’s death when Spencer was a teenager. The courts had refused to allow it and from that time on, Spencer had indeed been the troublemaker Ian had said he was. Mr. Ezra had been killed in a shooting the year before, so that was yet one more sorrow laid on their backs.

  Spencer had never been arrested, yet had been questioned by the police in several cases. It was all circumstantial as they said on TV. Nothing could ever be proven that he had done anything wrong.

  “That’s weird,” I said, worry filling me as I opened the file for one case.

  A shiver worked its way up my spine. Spencer had been heard threatening a guy and a few days later, that guy had been found dead. According to the file, Spencer had been cleared of any involvement. What if that was his dad covering his own butt? What if Spencer was indeed the killer Ian believed him to be?

  I picked up my phone and tapped out a quick text to Imogen. She responded immediately and my heart sank. She was with Spencer.

  “Ian, what if the reason Adrian Ezra never gave a statement was that she saw her brother k-kill Emma? What if they all know?”

  He shook his head and laid his hand over mine. “I met Lieutenant Ezra years ago. That man would have turned his son over without a second of hesitation. He wasn’t the warm and fuzzy kind of guy. He was a tiny bit uptight.”

  “But his daughter has been in rehab.”

  Ian sighed and rubbed at his brow. “Adrian was one of those girls who always did exactly what her friends did. One of her friends smoked a joint at a party, so Adrian did too. When the cops got called to that party, Lieutenant Ezra arrested Adrian and her friends and the next day he shipped her off to rehab. So far as I know, that was the first time she’d ever done anything like that. That’s the kind of family they grew up in. One mistake and that was it. He’d bring the hammer down. Adrian was terrified of her dad and so far as I know, Spencer wasn’t his biggest fan either.”

  “She lives with her grandparents now,” I whispered, a plan beginning to form in my mind. “Let’s go. They live near Grove City. We can be there in an hour if we hurry.”

  He shot me an incredulous look. “Maddie, what do you think Adrian is going to say to you? She hated Emma, passionately. She also wasn’t my biggest fan. She’s not going to want to do anything to help you.”

  I gave him a self-assured smile. “I’m persuasive,” I said and began loading my things into my bag.

  “Yeah, Mads. I know you are,” he said in a quiet tone before he rose, motioning the waitress over. “Can we get one more coffee to go?” he asked her as he pulled out his wallet.

  I stared after him, surprised by that move. He acted like it was a date or something. Was it? It was certainly an odd one if it was. I didn’t think investigating crimes would count.

  The thing was, it was Ian. We had known each other for so long, we didn’t need time to get to know each other. We had grown up together. We were now friends along with being . . . whatever it was that we were.

  Ian was the kind of guy any girl would count herself lucky to be with. And I did feel lucky. If I had a moment of peace to think about everything that had happened between us, I might even feel happy. The trouble was, there was so much going on around us.

  Ian came back carrying two large, Styrofoam cups of coffee, his heavy eyes fixed on me. “You ready?” he asked, his brows lowered as he pursed his lips.

  I stood and slung the strap of my bag over my shoulder, my arms folded across my torso to hold in a tiny bit of the warmth which had faded from me. “You don’t have to come, Ian,” I said, wanting to plead with him to do just that. I wouldn’t, though. I would go it alone if I had to.

  He handed me one of the cups before he bumped his knuckle under my chin. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” He began to guide me forward, his hand pressed to the small of my back.

  I glanced at him and gave him a snarky little smirk. “What makes you think I want to get rid of you? You now know how I like my coffee so I’m keeping you around for a while.”

  He chuckled, though he looked over to see something by the door. His eyes bulged as his hand on the small of my back convulsed. Nervous sweat popped out on his brow and he began to chew the inside of his cheek.

  I whipped around and the coffee fell from my suddenly limp hand. Emma. She was there. Her translucent figure was clear enough that everyone had stopped to stare.

  Emma’s eyes met mine and all of a sudden, some unseen force whirled her around. As she was turned, the string to her sweatshirt was pulled free and wrapped around her neck.

  Her eyes went wide as she fought to free herself. That unseen person yanked her around again and forced her to her knees. Emma clutched at her neck as her hands and feet twitched. Her mouth opened and closed. No air could get to her.

  “No!” I yelled, unwilling to allow my friend to suffer. There had to be a way to make it stop. There had to be.

  All of a sudden, she stood directly in front of me. Her purple face was inches from mine. Hatred for me was so clear, I retreated from her right into Ian’s chest.

  The figure of my best friend turned and swept toward the door, her white dress almost glowing. Every man stared, as mesmerized by her as they always had been. She was a goddess to them, the embodiment of perfection.

  “Emma,” I whispered, tears gathering in my eyes.

  She didn’t look at me. She simply vanished like she’d never been
there at all.

  I stared at the place she had disappeared. She didn’t reappear. She was gone. It was like everyone else had simply forgotten she’d been there. They returned to their meals while I stood there with Ian, both of us looking aghast at the place where Emma had shown us how she’d died.

  TWENTY-ONE

  My hands were clenched so tight on the wheel, my knuckles hurt. I didn’t loosen them. That small pain helped to center me.

  My body felt like a block of ice. So did my soul. I had known for a couple of weeks that Emma hadn’t killed herself. To see the truth of how she died was excruciating.

  Ian hadn’t said a word. Like always, when his emotions were strongest he turned himself into a stoic. I had done the same thing.

  I felt dead inside. The idea that Imogen was with a guy who may have been the one to do that to Emma made me want to scream. It was horrible, like using my friend for bait or something.

  I had decided to wait. We would talk to Adrian Ezra before telling Imogen my suspicions. What if I had been wrong? What if Spencer did something to Imogen?

  I sped up. I had to know what Adrian knew. I didn’t care if she didn’t like Ian. She had to answer my questions. I would give her no choice.

  Ian glanced at me as I pulled off the highway. His eyes were so full of sorrow, it was like years had been leached from his body leaving a scared little boy in place of the man he was. “This is a bad idea,” he snapped, his expression going from grief-stricken to furious in the time it took him to speak those words.

  It was easy to ignore him like I did with all things which annoyed me, so I picked up my phone to check the map on where we needed to go.

  Ian grabbed the phone from my hand and shot me a ferocious glare. “I need for you to listen to me for once in your life, Madison. This is a stupid idea. Spencer is in Pittsburgh with your friend. We just saw what happens to your friends when you decide your life is more important than theirs. We need to get that psychopath away from her.”

  My mouth fell open. It was like I had been transported back in time. Tears wanted to rise in my eyes over the pain of his words. I blinked them away, my eyes fixed on the road.

  If I said a word, those tears would spill free. All I did was pull into the first gas station I saw and get out of the car. It was so much easier to run away from pain than it was to face it.

  That was precisely what I did. I ducked my head, walked into the gas station, and stood in front of a display of sunglasses.

  “Since when do YOU run away from an argument?”

  I didn’t look at Ian as he stormed in behind me. I turned again, that time toward a display of burner phones. I needed time to collect myself. If he crowded me, I’d end up saying things that couldn’t be taken back . . . like he had done.

  I’d had no idea that Ian blamed me for Emma’s death. I had no right to judge him for it since I’d blamed him the week before. The trouble was, right didn’t seem to matter. I wanted to weep at even the idea.

  He let out a loud groan but didn’t speak. He walked to a coffee machine in the corner and began to fill yet another cup. It was like he had no interest in even looking at me anymore.

  My heart ached. I pushed that feeling aside. It had nothing to do with me. I had to focus on whatever Adrian Ezra could tell me, nothing else.

  Ian looked ready to explode by the time we got into the car, his mood even darker than it had been before. It was like we had gone back in time. That was the Ian I remembered from childhood, disapproving and scornful.

  I snagged my phone from the center console before he could steal it again and checked the directions. Just like when I was a little kid, I felt like crying for about a week. As the two of us had done through that drive, I turned myself into a stoic.

  I was indifferent to the pain that rolled off me. I had to figure out what Adrian had seen and get back to Pittsburgh.

  Ian looked ready to explode as I pulled into the driveway of a modest little ranch-style house. He had made up his mind that Spencer was the one who had killed his sister. There would be no changing it. It was the way things worked when you dealt with Ian Gregory.

  I moved to get out of the car, though he took hold of my arm to keep me in place. “She’s not going to tell you anything. This is a waste of time.”

  I pulled my arm free and opened the door. “Fine. Then stay here,” I said in as calm a tone as could be managed.

  And for the first time in my life, I heard Ian swear. He made it clear as day he was not happy.

  My heart was heavy as I walked up to the house. It was like I betrayed Ian by being there. It was the last thing I wanted him to feel. What other choice did I have, though?

  Before I could talk myself out of it, I rang the doorbell. My heart was lodged in my throat. What was I doing there? Why would Adrian tell us anything?

  No. I couldn’t think like that. She WOULD tell me precisely what had happened, even if it was nothing at all.

  I took in a deep breath of air, counted to three, and let it out. I could do this. Emma had shown us the way she died for a reason. I had to face down whatever was necessary to figure out how it had happened.

  I almost jumped out of my skin when Ian stepped up next to me, his nostrils flared as he raised his chin. I didn’t want him there. Looked like there was no choice for me.

  I kept my eyes fixed on the door. I didn’t want to see that version of Ian. The one he had been an hour before was the one I had wanted to have something with. I didn’t want to be anywhere near the one who was next to me.

  I let out a relieved sigh when the door was opened. That relief died when I saw her. Adrian looked awful.

  She was an odd, plain girl with a curveless body and frizzy, caramel colored hair. Her eyes were dilated and a bit bloodshot like she was high or just coming down from a high. Those eyes moved from one to the other of us, her thin mouth working silently.

  “Adrian?” I asked, even though it was obvious it was her.

  She gave a short nod, her eyes flicking to look up at Ian. “You,” she whispered, tears rising in her eyes.

  Ian didn’t respond. He glowered at her like she had said something horrible.

  I cleared my throat loudly. “Adrian, I’m Madison Meyer. I don’t know if you’ll remember me. I was Emma’s—”

  “I know who you are,” she interrupted, her jaw quivering as her hands shook.

  “Can I ask you a couple of questions?” I implored, ready to do whatever was necessary to find out what had happened.

  A harassed looking elderly woman stepped over, her arms loaded down with a full laundry basket. “Adrian, honey don’t leave your friends outside. Invite them in. There’s a serious chill in the air,” she said in an indulgent tone as she turned to get on with her business. “Would you kids like something to drink?” she asked us over her shoulder, seeming pleased that we were there.

  “No, thank you,” I said, my eyes fixed on Adrian. “Please,” I said in a beseeching tone.

  Adrian looked away from both of us and stepped back. It appeared that was the only invitation we’d get from her.

  Before she could change her mind, I slunk past her inside the house. I almost tripped over something that had been parked inside the door, my eyes too fixed on Adrian to pay much attention to what was around me. Something about her worried me. I couldn’t figure out what it was. It made me certain she had seen something.

  When she had closed the door behind Ian she nudged her chin in the direction of a living room. I didn’t look away from her. I had forgotten a lot about my life in Pittsburgh. I remembered Adrian.

  She had come to the party Emma had thrown for Ian his senior year. She was in his class but neither of us knew her. When she showed up, Emma had been cruel.

  She had kicked Adrian out along with several other people. She had claimed they were crashers, calling them every name in the book to get them to leave.

  I had overlooked a lot of things about Emma. She hadn’t been the beloved angel I had made
her in my memories. She had been a spoiled princess who employed every means to get what she wanted.

  Why had I allowed myself to forget that stuff? Why hadn’t I had the nerve to tell her she was wrong? Why hadn’t I stood up to her?

  I knew the answer already. She had been my only friend. I would have been stuck with no one other than my bitter mother if I had told Emma she was wrong. I had to take off my rose-colored glasses and remember Emma how she truly had been.

  Adrian slumped onto a sofa that had a plastic cover over it, motioning us to a loveseat across from her that was also sheathed in plastic. I didn’t want to sit that close to Ian, so didn’t sit. Instead, I looked around the room.

  Oddly, there were baby toys all over the place. It wasn’t messy, yet it was clear the baby ruled the roost. There were bouncy seats, swings, teething rings, balls, everything that could be imagined all crammed into the small living room.

  “How old is your baby?” I asked in a weak voice, suddenly certain why she had dropped out of high school.

  “Eleven months,” she said shortly, her eyes still fixed on the floor.

  I cleared my throat and shoved my thumbs into the front pockets of my jeans. “Adrian, did you see something the night Emma died?” I asked abruptly, hoping to shock her into giving me a truthful answer.

  Her eyes jerked to look at me before she looked away, her fingers weaving themselves together and back repeatedly. “Why are you here?” she whispered, her voice shaky and hoarse.

  I walked over and sat down on the other end of the sofa, turning to face her directly. “For a long time, I let myself believe that Emma was perfect. I turned her into an angel in my memory. I know she had flaws. I know she was mean to you. I know I should have said something to stop her. I’m sorry,” I said with a nod as she glanced at me. “Just because she was unkind sometimes doesn’t mean she deserved to die. She didn’t kill herself, Adrian. I know that. I think you know that too.” It was a shot in the dark. I prayed it would work to get her to both trust me and tell me what she had seen.

  A single tear spilled its way down her cheek. “You’d never believe me,” she said in a breathless voice, her hollowed cheeks appearing even more sunken at that moment.