by Clare Kauter
Adam raised his eyebrows and paused in his work of cleaning my foot wounds (just as sexy as it sounds, by the way) to look up at me. “Really? Why?”
“I didn’t kiss him.”
Adam was silent for a moment. “Wow,” he said flatly. “Well, when we’re done here, I guess we’ll call the police.”
Call the... My eyes widened. “Adam! We need to call Lea and Stacey and tell them not to go home! What if he’s there and he hurts them?”
“Calm down,” Adam said, not unkindly. “I’ve got Lea’s number. Stay here. I’ll get Harry to make some calls.” He returned a moment later. “OK, tell me what happened.”
“He brought food – well, he brought me a salad, so not really food – then he tried to make out with me and then he punched me and then Arnold bit him and we ran away. Then he tried to chase us in a car.”
“And is he our dealer?”
I paused. “I think so,” I said. “I have kind of a weird theory.”
Adam nodded. “Go on.”
I took a deep breath. “Is there a way he could have made Gabby and Abhati overdose against their will?”
Adam nodded slowly. “It’s possible.”
“OK. Well, I don’t know what he would want with Abhati, but he tutored her at her house so he knows where she lives. He’s the cheerleading coach, so he would have known that other girl who got expelled for drug use. Gabby... Gabby told Chelsea that Elliot had tried to get her into bed. I wasn’t sure whether it was true or not, but...”
“After tonight, I’m inclined to believe her.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Anyway, maybe he’s chucking a Walter White and cooking meth on the side.”
Adam nodded. “Sounds like he could be our man. What about those other guys you were looking into?”
I shook my head. “They wouldn’t sell to me. Apparently they don’t trust schoolkids not to squeal so they don’t risk it.”
“I don’t know if I believe that, but Harry’s calling the cops. They’ll bring Elliot in on assault charges and see if they can find anything out from him then.”
Harry joined us. “Your friends are safe,” he told me. “And we’ve got cops as well as some of our people looking for Elliot. We’ll find him soon.”
I nodded. “Thanks, Harry.”
“And I called Tim to come and get you,” he said. “We need to give him something to do or he might go after Elliot himself and he’s really not in a state for that.”
“That seems like a good idea,” I said.
Adam had finished bandaging up my feet by that point. I put my arm around his shoulder and he helped me limp to the bathroom so I could get cleaned up. He also lent me some clothes so I could get out of my blood-soaked pyjamas. Once I’d changed clothes and washed the blood off my face, I shuffled back into the dining room and found Tim sitting with the family at the dining table. Arnold was there too, sitting on Eli’s lap and eating his leftover dinner.
Tim stood from the table when he saw me and rushed over to hug me.
“I may have to murder him,” he muttered.
“Naw, Timmy,” I said. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Adam, you and I had better head back to the office,” said Harry. “Mary, are you able to drive Eli back to the clinic?”
Mary gave a salute. “Aye-aye, sir!”
I laughed. These weren’t exactly the best circumstances to meet someone in, but even so I knew that I liked Mary.
“Tim, you look after Charlie,” said Harry.
“Alright. Let’s go.”
Tim, Arnold and I made our way to his car, which was parked out on the street. Once we were inside, Tim said, “I have an idea.”
“If it’s anything to do with Elliot, the answer is no.”
“It’s not,” he said. “It’s to do with McKenzie.”
I frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“I think we should go to his house and see if we can find that letter.”
“Uh...”
Tim glanced at me briefly before flicking his eyes back to the road. “I knew it. Now that you’re spending all your free time making out with him, you won’t even break into his house with me.”
“That’s because it’s a terrible idea, Tim,” I said. “He’s probably home already, and if he’s not then he will be soon. We’ll get busted for sure.”
He sighed. “No sense of adventure. Fine. We’ll solve your brother’s case some other time.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Fine,” I said. “Let’s go do a break-in.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Before we went in, Tim laid down the rules. Number one was that if one of us got caught, we would pretend we were there alone so the other one could sneak out. Number two was that we wouldn’t take the letter – we were just going to take pictures of it.
“I don’t have my phone.”
“Just call out to me if you find it,” he said.
Tim was going to take downstairs while I did upstairs. We had to leave everything perfectly tidy, just as we found it. McKenzie could not know someone broke into his house – and being a cop, he was kind of good at spotting that sort of thing. I knew this was a terrible idea, but Tim was right. Without this letter, we had nowhere to go with my brother’s case. Even if it felt wrong, what we were doing was right.
I knew where James kept his spare key (under a rock in the garden), so we went straight in. Tim typed in his security code, having looked it up while we were at work. (That wasn’t the kind of information that was freely available to employees, but Tim had a way with computers.) We relocked the door but didn’t alarm the security system – it was motion sensitive and we would set it off. If James came home now, he’d know someone was here, but it was the best we could do.
Heading straight upstairs, I started in the study. (Arnold came with me, since it was freezing outside and I didn’t want to leave her in the car.) I methodically searched the desk drawers and filing cabinet but found nothing. This all seemed a little futile. It was a massive house, after all. How the hell was I meant to find a single piece of paper in this mansion? I tidied up the office and paused for a moment, wondering where I would have hidden a letter in this house. Well, I’d looked in William’s bedroom first since that’s where I’d hidden my letter. Maybe that was where James had hidden his.
I had just walked into his bedroom and started searching his bedside table when I heard footsteps on the stairs. I shoved his stuff back into the drawers and jumped onto his bed, trying to look relaxed. Arnold saw what I’d done and dropped to the floor, pretending to be asleep. I was filled with pride. That piglet had wisdom beyond her years.
“Evening, Charlie. What are you doing here?”
“I missed you,” I said. Dear lord, I was not cut out for the spy life.
He raised his eyebrows. “So you decided to break into my house when I wasn’t home?”
“It’s not like you haven’t done that to me before.”
He smiled. “Yes, but at least when I did it I cooked you dinner. You’re just sitting awkwardly in the middle of my bed.”
“Well, I’m new to cat burglary. I got tired and decided I’d better take a nap.”
“In your victim’s bed?”
“Like Goldilocks.”
He crossed his arms. “Going to tell me the truth now?”
“OK, fine. I was sniffing your sheets.”
He rolled his eyes and then seemed to notice how I was dressed. “Are you wearing Adam’s clothes?”
“It’s kind of a long story.”
“Charlie – wait,” he said, striding over and sitting next to me on the bed. He cupped my head in his hands. “What happened to your face?”
I sighed. “Fine. I got punched and it was scary and I didn’t want to be at home alone.”
Perfect. I had a believable cover.
“Who punched you?”
“Elliot.”
“What?” James looked shocked. Me and you both,
buddy.
“He brought me takeaway and wine, then tried to make out with me and when I told him I found him less sexually attractive than a bin liner he punched me.” Well, I hadn’t exactly said that. I’d mostly just thought it, but whatever.
“He punched you hard, by the looks of it.”
“Yep,” I said. “Someone doesn’t cope well with rejection.”
“God, are you OK? That’s horrible.”
“Yeah, I’m fine now.”
“Less attractive than a bin liner isn’t even that insulting,” said James.
“I know. I’ve seen some saucy bin liners in my day,” I said. “Besides, I didn’t even say that bit out loud.”
He smiled. “And to think I thought there was something going on between the two of you.”
“I know. You’re ridiculous.”
James shrugged. “I don’t know. You used to go out and he’s relatively good looking, right? And I kept seeing you two alone together.”
“I was trying to find out if he was dealing meth, James, not trying to get a date. I dumped him when I was a teenager, remember? Part of the reason we broke up was because he was such a fedora creep.”
“Fedora creep?” said James, grinning.
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“Unfortunately I do,” he said. “That was only part of the reason?”
“Yes. The other part was that the one time he kissed me it made me think maybe I was asexual.”
James raised his eyebrows. “You’ve changed your mind since?”
“I have.” I paused. “I thought you might have noticed.”
He smiled. “So he was just that bad at kissing?”
“It was like being mauled by a lamprey.”
James screwed up his face. “You mean those freaky fish things with tongue teeth?”
“Yeah. The ones that latch on and suck you to death.”
He laughed. “Wow. He must have left a good impression.”
“Nearly as good an impression as when he punched me in the face for not sleeping with him.”
“What happened?”
I took a deep breath. I’d been OK when we were just joking around, but now that I was actually thinking about it again I felt sick.
James caught the look on my face and said, “It’s OK. You don’t have to tell me.”
“No, it’s – it’s fine. Good practice for the trial.”
“So you’ve reported him?”
“No, but Harry called it in.”
James frowned, confused. “When did you see Harry?”
“Well, when I was at Adam’s –”
“So you are wearing his clothes.”
“Mine were covered in blood,” I explained.
“But why not wear your own clothes?”
“I haven’t been home yet,” I said. “When Elliot hit me, I just kind of... well, panicked and ran away. I knew you weren’t home so I went to Adam’s place. He gave me some painkillers and stuff and I got cleaned up there. Then Tim came over and dropped me off here.”
“You think Elliot did it? Dealt the meth, I mean,” said James. “You think he’s pulling a Walter White?”
I shrugged. “It makes sense. Plus he obviously hates all the cheerleaders. He gets angry that being nice doesn’t automatically guarantee sex.”
“I hate him.”
“Me too,” I said.
“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to pretend everything’s OK if I have to interview him at work.”
“Sure you can. You’re a good liar.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”
I shrugged. “I’ve seen the transcript of your interview with Harcourt from when Topher went missing,” I said, testing the waters. “You lied to him.”
James shrugged. “I must have just gotten mixed up.”
“See?” I said. “Even I was almost convinced by that.”
“So what if I did lie?”
“Well, that means you’re on Topher’s side, right?”
He narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t think that was under question.”
“It was.”
He was silent for a moment. “Are you just using me for information?”
My heart thumped. “No. Is that what you’re doing to me?”
“No.”
“So we’re good.”
“I guess so.”
“Good.”
There was an awkward silence.
“So, how was your excursion?”
He shook his head. “You have no idea,” he said. “I’m going to be so relieved when I’m back in uniform arresting people and getting yelled at and spat on. It will be such a relief.”
“Yeah. Teaching’s pretty similar except you can’t arrest them, right?”
“Right.”
“Sorry for implying that you might not be on Topher’s side,” I said. “You guys fought that night and I thought maybe...”
“You thought it was my fault that he left?”
“No,” I said. “He wouldn’t run away from a fight.”
“Of course not. He’s a Davies.”
“Although I didn’t punch Elliot tonight. I panicked and ran.”
“That was definitely for the best,” said James. “You shouldn’t fight unless you have to.”
I nodded. “Anyway, I don’t blame you for Topher going missing.”
“Thanks.” His phone started to buzz and he answered it, then handed it to me. “It’s Tim.”
“Thanks,” I said, taking the phone. “Hey, Timmy. What’s up?”
“You OK? I got out of the house without him seeing me, but do you need me to bail you out?”
“No, I’m OK,” I said. “Any news yet?”
“Not yet,” he said. “I’m just heading down to the offices to see what’s up, but I’ll message James to let you know when we find Elliot.”
“Thanks, Tim.”
James went downstairs and reappeared a couple of minutes later with a packet of chips and his laptop so we could watch Netflix. I lay down and closed my eyes and I was out like a light. A while later, James gently shook me awake.
“Hey, sweetie. They’ve got Elliot in custody,” he said. “I’m going to head down to the station. Harcourt wants me to be there to question him since I know about the case.”
I blinked a couple of times to wake myself up and nodded.
“I don’t want to be by myself,” I said.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I called Will. I’ll drop you off at his place on the way – as long as you promise not to start going through his stuff again.”
“I promise,” I said. “I learned my lesson last time.”
“You mean earlier tonight when I sprung you searching my bedroom?”
My heart skipped a beat. He knew?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t,” he said. “Come on. Let’s go.”
James helped me limp down to the garage (with Arnold following us) and we all got in his Tesla. When we arrived at Will’s, he walked me to the door. He knocked and then kissed me on the head a moment before Will opened the door.
“Evening,” said Will.
“Hey,” said James. “I’ve gotta run. You sure you’re OK, Charlie?”
I nodded. “Thanks. Go! Send him to prison for a thousand years.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
James left and I entered Will’s flat. We sat on his couch and I rested my head on his shoulder while Arnold slept on my lap and we watched YouTube videos of pigs surfing. Will knew how to make me feel better. I must have drifted off again, because the next thing I knew an alarm was blaring loudly, waking me up.
“What’s that?” I murmured sleepily.
“Fire alarm,” said Will. “We have to evacuate.”
I groaned. Why did I keep having to move? Didn’t the universe know that my feet were injured from running away from a murderous meth-dealing paedophile? Surely that was enough for one day.
Will helped me downstairs. He lived in a pretty big building and I was worried I’d lose Arnold in the throng of people. Once we’d made it outside I called Arnold over to a low wall so I could sit down.
“Are you going to be OK here for a sec while I go and see what’s happening?” Will asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, go for it. Arnold will look after me.”
Will disappeared into the crowd. Then someone’s hand clapped over my mouth and the next thing I knew, I was asleep. Again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
I woke up in warm room that smelled of paint and petrol – a garage, I guessed – with my legs and arms tied to a chair. Thanks, universe, I thought, but when I said I didn’t want to move anymore, this is not exactly what I had in mind.
“What the fuck is going on?” I asked, blinking my eyes to try to bring the world into focus. No luck. “Where are my glasses?”
“Charlotte, you’re awake!” said a figure in front of me. I frowned. I recognised that voice.
“Mrs Bales?” I guessed. “You better not have damaged my glasses, you crazy bitch. They’re designer. They came in a fancy case and everything.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry,” she said. “You’re not going to be needing them any time soon.”
“I don’t care. I still want to know where they are.”
After a moment, she said, “Fine. I liked them, so I’m going to get the lenses changed to my prescription.”
I gasped. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would.”
“Monster.”
“Really?” she said. “The glasses thing is what bothers you and not the fact that I’m going to murder you?”
I thought for a second. Yep. Definitely more bothered by the glasses. Maybe it was because so many people had tried to murder me before that I wasn’t as concerned about that. But wait, why was I getting murdered this time? What was going on?
“Would you mind explaining to me what’s happening?” I asked.
I heard a sigh and saw Mrs Bales’s fuzzy, blobby outline begin to pace across the room in front of me. “Fine,” she said, although it sounded to me as though she was secretly pleased. She wanted to tell me whatever psycho plan she’d come up with. “I’m going to murder you.”
I waited for more details, but she remained silent.
“Yeah, thanks,” I said. “I got that already. Can I have some details now? How you’re going to do it, motive, you know?”