Dead Girls Don't Keep Secrets

by Ames B Winterbourne

  “Ryder?” I attempt to pull my hand from his, but he won’t budge. He’s strong, and I can’t get loose from his grip. At first, he moves slowly through the halls, dragging me along, but when a few eyes narrow in on us, he bursts into a run.

  “Ryder, stop!” The faster he goes, the more likely I’m going to trip. He isn’t necessarily hurting me, but I don’t like being forced into submission.

  We’re in a deserted hallway right outside the boys’ locker room. The bell rings as we stand there, staring at each other. His hand still grips mine as he leans down to make us eye level. It’s unsettling. “We need to talk.” His voice is low.

  I give him a dirty look. I can’t believe his audacity. “What about? I don’t see any reason why I should talk to you.”

  He glances around me, as though anxious that someone will see us. “We can’t discuss this out in the open.”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “Well, I’m not going anywhere else with you.”

  He shuts his eyes and releases my hand. When he opens them again, they’re dangerously serious. “It’s about Felicia and that letter she left you.”

  Chapter 5

  Is it so bad that I just want one day to bask in the lack of abuse I received from Felicia on a daily basis? Well, apparently it is, all because of Ryder Freaking Frost. I don’t understand how he knows about the letter or what he’ll do with this knowledge. Ryder’s the town sheriff’s son; therefore, his knowledge about the letter might put a damper on my plans … whatever those plans might have been. Sure, there’s a possibility I can find out what happened to my mother, but it could all be a big joke to Felicia.

  I don’t know why I decide to follow Ryder at all. He’s almost as bad as Felicia, at least to me. He’s my bully. It’s important to stress the “my” because he only bullies me. I remember the day it started. We were in the fifth grade. His best friend at the time told me that Ryder had a present for me. Other than Jaxon Smith, Ryder Frost was originally my biggest crush. I was supposed to meet him in the bushes behind the soccer field. When I arrived, he was standing there, kicking a rock around like it was a soccer ball.

  “Hi.” I stood awkwardly a few feet from him.

  He looked up at me with a big smile, his blue braces on display, and said, “I have something for you.”

  Ryder was probably the cutest boy in school. He was tall for an eleven-year-old and knew exactly how much gel to put in his hair. The idea of him liking me was absurd, but I couldn’t help but feel excited.

  I bit my lip, hoping for a flower or something. Ryder held his hand out to me and I took it, thinking he just wanted to hold my hand, only for his boogers to rub off onto my palm.

  “You like my gift?” he leered at me. His oh so adorable dimples popped out. It was then I heard his friends snickering behind me.

  At the time, I was severely squeamish and vomited in front of all of them. When I was done, I burst into tears and ran to the girls’ bathroom. That was where Felicia found me and helped me get cleaned up before we went back to class. This was not only the day I started watching horror movies to get over my queasiness from gross things, but also the day I realized Ryder Frost was going to be my worst enemy. From then on, I attempted to avoid him. Yet, he would never leave me alone. Ryder Frost was the antagonist to my existence.

  So, once again, I wonder why I followed him to the boys’ locker room when I should have gone right to my next class.

  He checks the stalls and around the locker area for anyone. The air is thick from earlier steaming showers and reeks of a blend of bean burrito farts and Axe body spray. It’s dirty, too, with grime around the faucets and paper towels balled up on the floor, just a few inches from the actual trash can. It’s definitely not as sparkly clean as Felicia insisted the girls’ locker room be. She had bitched, moaned, and threatened the principal with a health code violation until they gave in. I guess that’s something I could have thanked her for.

  “What’s this about?” I’m shocked I haven’t snapped yet.

  Ryder leans against one of the lockers and holds out the letter Felicia left me.

  “You dropped this.”

  My eyes close in on the pink paper ball and I stiffen. His smug smile makes me want to punch him in his jingle balls.

  He knows. He knows Felicia left me that note and wants me to catch the killer.

  My eyes are glued to the note. “W-what do you plan to do with it?”

  “Well, I could turn it into my dad,” he says, and all the color drains from my face. “Or, you could let me help you catch the killer.”

  “Why on earth would you want to do that? You hated Felicia.”

  He shrugs, but there’s something he isn’t telling me. “Felicia wasn’t my favorite person, but that doesn’t mean I hated her. We were somewhat friends.” I roll my eyes at that.

  “So that rumor about you two a few months ago was true?” I feel a pang of betrayal in my chest, and it isn’t because I’m jealous in a romantic sense. Felicia and Ryder never got along. She hated him for his treatment of me, and even though she abandoned me, there was a distance between them. Of course, there were rumors about them. There were rumors about Ryder hooking up with every girl in school. Felicia always brushed it off. It was the only nice thing she did for me in the last four years.

  “Jealous?” Before I can reply with a snarky remark, he continues. “I didn’t sleep with Felicia, if that’s what you’re thinking. I was her tutor.”

  “Really? You expect me to believe you were her tutor? Okay, what did you tutor her in?”

  “Science. She was failing and needed a hand. She paid me to tutor her.” Drat. That’s totally plausible. Ryder’s smart in the sciences, and Felicia was known to do poorly in anything that had to do with equations.

  “Paid you in what? Blowjobs?”

  “Cash. Twenty an hour.” He says this as though it’s a matter of fact.

  “Okay, let’s say I believed you. What makes you think I would believe anything in that letter? Let alone go looking for a killer?”

  He shrugs. “You may act all tough, but you cared about Felicia. She used to be your best friend.”

  “Until she made me out to be her stalker,” I say, my eyes shooting daggers at him. There’s no love lost. Even if we had been friends since preschool, Felicia left me out in the cold. Sometimes I wondered if she wanted me to kill myself, especially since her friends always suggested I do it.

  “And yet, she still cared for you. She never stopped hating me after the fifth grade. But I wasn’t just her tutor.” His brows pinch together. “Felicia was asking questions about my dad.”

  I gape at him before I say, “What? Why?”

  “She was trying to blackmail him, and to do that, she thought asking me for help would work.”

  Ryder seems to have a good relationship with his father. That’s at least what I and everyone else assumed. He even works for him part-time. “Why would you help her?”

  “I had my reasons. But it led her to find out some stuff about your mom’s case.”

  “My mom didn’t have a case. She killed herself,” I state.

  “No, she didn’t, and you know it,” he says. I hate that. I’ve hated that same look most people give me when it comes to my mom’s death. I found the body, that’s what I was told. But I don’t remember a thing and no one believes me.

  “She did. And Felicia didn’t care about my mom’s case. She only looked into it so she could get famous or whatever and get out of town.”

  “Maybe at first. Felicia wasn’t the nicest person. As you’ve already figured out, she had a lot of secrets. Not all were her own.”

  “According to her letter, she’d been blackmailing people.” Part of me is shocked that the picture-perfect life Felicia had was too good to be true. I just assumed the world was an unfair place and people like Felicia always got what
they wanted. I didn’t expect her to blackmail her way to the top.

  “Yeah, she was,” Ryder says.

  “Did she tell you anything? Anything at all about what she knew?”

  “Let’s just say, when she finally found what she wanted, she abandoned me before I could figure out what she knew. I’ve been curious about what she found, but I don’t know much.” He pauses, as though waiting for me to reply. I don’t. I don’t know exactly what to say. “I’m kind of shocked you’re so calm. Are you actually going to pursue this?”

  “I haven’t decided yet. But why would you help Felicia if she was blackmailing your dad?”

  “I don’t take betrayal well, and what my dad did broke me. He’s the Shady Sheriff, after all.”

  “What did your dad do?”

  “Let’s just say, I always thought his family came first, but I was wrong.”

  I don’t like his vagueness. “You think your dad might have done something?”

  “I don’t know much, but there’s a possibility my dad is involved. He has a history with your mom, and Felicia found the file in his desk drawer. If he’s involved, I want to stop him.” His lips morph into a frown, and his gray glare is like a furious storm.

  “Basically, you want to help me get back at your father? He might not have even done this.”

  “So, you admit you’re going to look for her killer.”

  I pause. The idea is just too tempting. I can solve my mom’s murder. Maybe I can finally have some closure. I never understood why she killed herself. If she really was murdered …. Even though I hated Felicia, knowing she died because of my mom makes me feel like I owe her in a way.

  “What if I am?” I try to keep my face neutral, but I know he can see right through me.

  He beams, pleased with my answer. “You’re so cute when you’re trying to be tough. You know how they say curiosity killed the cat?”

  “Yeah.” The way he words it makes my heart pound. I’m alone with Ryder, and he’s talking about a dead cat.

  His posture softens when he notices my unease. “You need a guard dog to protect you. I’m your mutt.”

  “Why do you want to protect me?” I don’t peg Ryder for the macho protective type.

  “You have a nice face. Would hate for that beauty to go to waste. Hey, that rhymed.” He seems thoroughly amused with himself.

  I ignore it. “How can you help me anyway?”

  “We have to interrogate the people she blackmailed to follow her steps and figure out where she was and what she knew. You’re not the friendliest person, so you’ll need backup.”

  That’s something I hadn’t thought about. I’m not good with people, and people don’t really like me. He’s right. I need help.

  I can’t believe this is happening. Felicia is dead, and Ryder wants to help me find her killer. This has to be a nightmare. Not only that, but he looks really pumped about it, too. I observe him for a moment, thinking maybe if I stare long enough, he’ll break and say he’s joking. He doesn’t squirm under my gaze. Instead, he waits patiently for my response.

  I know though it’s too good to be true. Ryder helping me without anything in return is definitely not possible. “What do you want in exchange for your services?”

  “How dare you think I have an ulterior motive!” He puts his hand to his chest as though appalled. Maybe some other girl would find it cute, but I’m not buying it.

  I fold my arms across my chest. “Cut the crap, Frost. You made your case that you could help me with this easily. You want something.”

  He pauses for a moment, as though pondering whether he should speak or not. I know it’s a farce. He’s just stalling to build tension. “A date.”

  I do a double take. “A what?”

  “I want a single date with you.”

  I gape at him before sputtering out, “W-why on earth would I do that? Why would you want me to? Until Felicia died, you did nothing but taunt me.”

  “When I was a kid, if I couldn’t have something, I’d make it so ugly that no one would want it.”

  I close my eyes and shake my head. When I open them again, his dimples are on display and he beams like he’s proud of himself. “Ryder, don’t be a tool. What’s the point of dating me?”

  “Do I have to spell for you? I thought you were the smartest girl in school.”

  I don’t care for his sarcasm. “You want to date me, and this is how you decide to ask me out?”

  “I saw a window, so …” He shrugs, attempting to look innocent.

  “I’m good. I don’t need your help.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Lake.” He pushes off the lockers and stalks toward me. My back hits the wall behind me. He has me cornered. His face is so close to mine I can smell his breath. It reeks of peppermint gum. Though I love peppermint, the fact that he’s chewing it makes me wonder if he has plans with someone else after harassing me. No one chews mint gum for an interrogation. For a fleeting moment, I wonder if after bothering me he’ll be off to suck face with Jessica. This disturbs me more than I care to admit. “You do need my help. I already explained that to you.”

  “Is that why you helped Felicia? So she’d go out with you, too?”

  “Felicia gave me insight into my father, something I am grateful for. There weren’t any sexual favors involved.” His tone is hard and cold.

  “I really don’t think I need your help. I’m good at investigative journalism.”

  He laughs. “I heard you went behind the bleachers with Mattie Piven last spring. He bitched and moaned about how he took you there to deflower you, and all you did was ask about the strong scent of weed. Not to mention, Aria Logan saw the striptease.”

  “Hey, he decided to play ‘Little Red Corvette’ and take off an item of clothing every time Prince sang the word ‘Corvette.’”

  “I heard he ripped a condom wrapper open with his teeth when used Trojans were mentioned.”

  I groan at the memory. Mattie Piven was a jock, and he wanted to “get to know me better.” I’m not one to date, but I was doing an article about smoking on campus and decided that some make-out time with Mattie might lead me to a great story. He only wanted to suck my neck like a freaking vampire. He never touched my lips, which remained virginal like the rest of me. It wasn’t a problem for me, but sadly, I received my first hickey, which was in the shape of Florida. To top it off, the principal thought my story was too controversial for our halls, which actually meant he didn’t want to get in trouble for students selling drugs on campus. In the end, I didn’t have an article, and I had to wear a turtleneck in ninety-degree weather.

  “Is a date really your only motive?” It’s too easy of a request, not that I’d actually do it.

  He nods, but there’s something in his eyes that tells me that there is more to the story. “Believe me, it would be worth your while. I’m also pretty scrappy and know how to interrogate people. Not to mention, I love a good mystery. I watch tons of crime dramas.”

  “No.”

  “If that’s what you want, I could just tell my father about your investigation…”

  I figured at some point he’d play that card. I also know I can’t let him tell his father anything. I bite my lip and squint my eyes at him, as though debating it. There’s no question. I don’t have a choice.

  “You can get me insight into the police records and stuff?” That would be beneficial.

  “Yes, and I can show you a good time, too.” Before I can respond, he holds up his hands and adds, “Not in a sexual way … unless you’re tempted.”

  “You seem pretty sure of yourself.”

  “I plan on being a crime novelist.” He thrusts his hand through his hair, trying to act all suave.

  “No cop time?” From what I’ve heard for years, Ryder’s dad has bragged about his son taking after him. At least, tha
t’s what Dad muttered after going on a rant about the tool. Dad doesn’t think much of Ryder. I don’t, either, but he doesn’t even know half of how annoying Ryder can be.

  Ryder’s instantly dismissive. “I want to do my own thing and to do that, I need experience.”

  “One minute, it’s for a blackmailed date. Now it’s all about requiring experience for your future writing endeavors. I’d ask you about what you aren’t telling me, but I doubt you’d say it, huh?” I narrow my eyes, trying to see through him. He doesn’t squirm. Instead, he oozes cockiness.

  “To add to this sweet deal, I can get you records from the sheriff’s personal file cabinets, and I have an inconspicuous car.”

  “You have a BMW,” I state.

  “Half the school drives BMWs.”

  “Okay, and?”

  “And I’ll make your first date magical. I won’t even attempt copping a feel. Come on, Lake, what’s the harm in some fun?” He sounds so sure of himself. I’m going to regret this for real.

  “This isn’t fun. This is about finding out who killed Felicia.”

  “And your mom,” he adds.

  We both fall silent. The only sound in the room is a dripping faucet. It would peeve me, but my own pounding heart drowns it out. I don’t know if it’s the intense banter between us or the fact that I’m so overwhelmed with everything that’s happening.

  “I read the letter. Felicia knew stuff. I know stuff, too. Let me help you.” His tone is soft, making me believe he’s sincere. That’s saying something because, in my eyes, he’s never sincere.

  I consider it for a moment. What am I getting myself into? Life was so much simpler when Felicia was just terrorizing me, and Jessica wasn’t Queen Bee. Yet, Jaxon actually speaks to me now. And this … I mean, this is Ryder Frost, for Pete’s sake. He’s the Joker to my Batman, yet he wants to be Robin, too? Is that even possible? If he helps me through this, I’ll find out who killed Felicia and my mom and get the justice they deserve. But I’ll also be forced to spend hours on a date with the one person I despise the most. Will he expect me to kiss him? I’ve tried for years not to think of Ryder that way. This is about finding the killer, and truth be told, a part of me knows he’s my best shot at it.