After Me

by Joyce Scarbrough

  I sat up again and turned to look at her. As hard as it was to see the confusion on her face, I had to make her understand.

  “I swear I hated all the nasty stuff. That’s why I never wrote them anything myself or sent any pictures that were really me. It was just that rush I felt every time I got one of them to send me a present and knew I’d cheated them. It felt so good to make them pay for something they weren’t really getting. They thought they were such big shots with their CEO salaries and their cars and their fancy offices, and I hated them all!”

  She stared at me a second, then she nodded. “Because they were men like your father.”

  Her words hit me like the back draft from an explosion. I didn’t know why I hadn’t been able to see it before, but she was right. My hatred for my own father had made me want to punish men like him over and over, and it had gotten me killed.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Nathan knocked on the door again to tell us supper was ready, so Annalee and I had to postpone the rest of our talk until later. Luckily for me, Karen kept Annalee talking about books then Nathan practically grilled her once he found out she was on the chess team with Lew, so no one noticed I wasn’t talking while we ate. I was glad because it gave me the chance to think about what Annalee had said about my father. I couldn’t believe I’d never realized it myself, but there was no denying it now that she’d pointed it out.

  While we were loading the dishwasher after we finished eating, I nudged Annalee and said, “Hey, you want to take a walk before we get back to work on the project? Maybe we can burn off the million calories Karen made us consume with her awesome cooking.”

  “I probably need to,” she said, handing me two glasses. “But you hardly ate anything.”

  “Actually, she ate more than usual,” Karen said. “Most of the time she doesn’t eat enough to keep a bird alive.”

  Annalee looked as if she were going to say something else about it, then she gave me an oh-I-get-it look.

  “I don’t think a walk is a good idea,” Brad said from the doorway. “Nathan told me about the incident with the gang members this afternoon.”

  Annalee and I managed to stifle any giggles, and I said, “Yeah, but they probably won’t come around here again now that they know the cops are on the lookout for them.”

  Brad shook his head. “Maybe so, but I’d rather you stayed here where I know you’re safe. I don’t want to take a chance on anything happening to either of you.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Guess we’d better get back to work anyway.”

  Up in my room, Annalee lay across the bed and rested her chin on her hands. “Your foster parents are so nice, and Nathan’s a little cutie. I wish I had a family like them.”

  I put a couple of pillows behind me and leaned back against the headboard. “Yeah, I got lucky this time. Maybe Flo and her buddies felt sorry for me.”

  “Do you want to talk about your father some more?”

  I thought about it a few seconds then shook my head. “No, I need to sort it all out in my mind, but I know you’re right about what you said. I can see it now. And as much as I hate to admit it, I guess I can also see why they’re making me pay a penalty for it. I knew how dangerous it was and didn’t care. It’s really no different from doing drugs or driving drunk, so I’m no better than David.”

  “That’s not true, you’re nothing like him!” Her outrage surprised me. “Your breakdown wasn’t your fault. You were just dealing with it the best you knew how.”

  “Well, no matter why I got mixed up with the bastard who killed me, he’s still gonna pay for what he did. I’ve just gotta find him.”

  “Do you have any idea where he lives?”

  I shook my head. “Not really. The Sugar Daddy chat room was for people in Florida, so I guess he’s somewhere in the state, but that’s all I know.”

  “Then how are you gonna find him?”

  “I’ll show you.”

  I went to my computer desk and logged into the FaceSpace account for Cherry Licious. There were fifteen new friend requests, most with private messages included.

  “None of these sound like him,” I said after scanning them with Annalee reading over my shoulder.

  “How can you tell?”

  “I’m not sure. I just know I’ll recognize the way he talked.”

  “Do you know what he looks like?”

  “No, he had a bandana covering his face, plus it was dark. All I know is that he was short and had dark hair. And he was kinda… twitchy.”

  “What name did he go by?”

  “BOSSMAN.” I couldn’t help rolling my eyes as I said it. “But he’s probably got sense enough not to use the same name since it could tie him to me.”

  “Have you done a search for news stories about… you know, what happened to you? How do you know they didn’t catch him?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t, but I figured they wouldn’t give it to me as an assignment if he’d been caught.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “But maybe the police have some leads that could help you find him.”

  I swiveled the chair around to look at her. “They wouldn’t put them on the Internet, would they? Don’t they usually keep stuff like that a secret so they won’t tip off the killer?”

  She nodded. “They usually keep a few details secret, but the public and the press would be putting a lot of pressure on them to solve the case right after it happens. They’d want to show some kind of progress in the investigation.”

  “How do you know all that stuff?”

  “I know it’s kinda weird.” She looked a little embarrassed. “I love reading true crime books and watching shows like Forensic Files.”

  I laughed. “Guess that explains why we were destined to be friends, huh?”

  “Maybe.” She reached for one of my hands again. “Or maybe you were meant to save me from Rufus. Whatever the reason, I’m just glad we found each other.”

  “Me too.” I squeezed her hand then swiped at my eyes. “Jeez, I’m turning into a freaking faucet.”

  I turned back to the computer and opened a new window so I could Google my name, but I paused with my fingers hovering over the keyboard, considering what the results might be. What if there were crime scene photos of my dead body? Did I really want to see that?

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Annalee said, “and I don’t think there’ll be anything graphic posted, especially this early in the investigation.”

  I nodded and typed my name. The first link that came up in the results caused both of us to gasp.

  SEARCH CALLED OFF FOR MISSING TALLAHASSEE TEEN. MOTHER REFUSES TO ACCEPT RUNAWAY THEORY.

  “They don’t even know I’m dead?” I said in disbelief. “What the hell did he do with my body?”

  “Click the link and see what it says in the story.”

  It took us to an article from the Tallahassee Democrat. We both read in silence how Jada Celeste Gayle, age 18, was last seen two weeks ago by her friend Courtney Madison, age 17, when she was dropped off at a remote location in a rural area of Leon County east of Tallahassee, purportedly to meet a boy she’d met online. This led police to believe that Jada had run away with her boyfriend. Mrs. Gayle had insisted that her daughter would not run away and had been pressuring the police to conduct a search of the entire county. When no trace of the runaway was found after a week, they’d called off the search and officially listed Jada Gayle as missing. Since Amber Alerts were only for abducted children under the age of seventeen, Vanessa Gayle was quoted as saying that she was hiring her own private investigator to find her daughter.

  “I don’t understand,” I said when we finished reading. “Why haven’t they found my body yet?”

  “Where were you when it happened?” Annalee asked. “The story said a remote location.”

  “It was a dirt road leading down to a lake, close to where I picked up the Ferrari he baited me with. It was in the boonies, but I could tell
people used the road to launch boats and stuff for fishing. Somebody should’ve been back there by now.”

  “Maybe he buried you, or…” She paused to wince. “Weighted down your body and threw you in the lake.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” A much more gruesome possibility occurred to me, but I decided to keep it to myself. “Vanessa must be going crazy.”

  “I know.” Annalee put a hand on my shoulder. “How awful for her not to know where you are. She must be so worried.”

  My bitter laugh came out in a huff. “Yeah, I’m sure she cries over my picture every day. Oh, wait—I don’t think she has any pictures of me. Maybe she cries over some of my old hospital bills.”

  “But you said—”

  “I meant she must be going crazy because they’re calling me a runaway. How does that make her look? Hell, it could cost her a promotion and that big corner office she’s had her eye on for so long.”

  “But the article said she hired an investigator to find you.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure she wants him to find some proof that I was either killed or abducted. Actually, she’s probably hoping I’m dead so they can close the case. She hates loose ends.”

  Annalee sat on the bed with an amazed look on her face. “Is she really that heartless?”

  “Yeah, she is.” I turned back to the computer. “Let’s see what the other stories say.”

  An earlier article from the Tallahassee paper reported a lot more details about what really happened that night. Courtney had told police that the only thing I’d said about the boy I was supposed to be meeting was that he attended Florida State. She told them she dropped me off at an abandoned BP station on rural Canopy Road not far from Lake Miccosukee, and she remembered seeing a black sports car there but hadn’t seen anyone inside it or nearby. She also remembered seeing a horse logo on the car’s front grill, leading police to think it had been a black Ford Mustang. The only other information she’d provided was that I’d had my laptop with me. A search of our home computer had revealed nothing, and a check of our wireless network was also a bust because a proxy server had been used to mask Internet activity, reinforcing the theory that I’d been planning to run away and had covered my tracks.

  “Why did you do that?” Annalee asked when we got to that part.

  “He told me to. He said it would protect both of us from getting caught if his wife found out. I was stupid enough to swallow it along with the rest of his bullshit. Trust me, he didn’t have a wife. From the looks of him, he probably never had a girlfriend that didn’t need to be inflated first.”

  “What about the car? I thought you said it was a Ferrari.”

  “It was. They have a horse on the front too, but I guess the cops figured it was a Mustang since it was supposed to be a college kid’s car.”

  The rest of the article described how interviews with my classmates had revealed nothing about my plans or a relationship with anyone at Florida State. They all told the police that I was popular but didn’t have any close friends and didn’t date anyone they knew.

  I closed the browser window and turned the chair around. “At least I don’t have to worry about anybody seeing my picture in a news story about my murder. And with all the runaways and missing teens they’ve got already, one more shouldn’t be big news.”

  “Unless your mother makes it big,” Annalee said.

  I shook my head. “That won’t happen unless her private detective finds proof that I’m dead, and I don’t think he will if they haven’t found it by now. Who knows, maybe Flo’s department had something to do with this so my cover won’t get blown.”

  “Yeah, maybe so.” Annalee looked past me at the computer screen. “Hey, the FaceSpace button on your taskbar says you’ve got four notifications.”

  They were all new friend requests from Sugar Daddy group members. I read the private messages and deleted all but one.

  “This one’s a possibility,” I said. “See how he offers to send jewelry for a few pictures and videos? BOSSMAN offered to send me diamond earrings right off the bat.”

  “You think it’s him?” Annalee’s voice was an excited whisper.

  “Maybe. I’ll send him a message and see what he says.”

  “You’re not gonna send him any pictures, are you?”

  “No,” I said as I typed, “but I might have to send some later on to keep him on the hook. They won’t be pictures of me though.”

  “What are you gonna say to him?” I could hear the disgust in her voice, and it made me want to stop talking about this stuff with her.

  “I’m just gonna ask him about himself. You know, tell him I’ve been burned in the past by guys who didn’t make good on their promises and say I need proof that he’s not a phony.” I sent the message then closed the window. “Okay, enough of that crap. Do you want to check your FaceSpace or your e-mail?”

  “No, that’s okay,” she said. “I don’t get online much.”

  I grinned at her. “That’ll change pretty quick if Justin’s got anything to say about it. He’s got a major crush on you.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Hey, didn’t you see how quick he made sure you knew there was nothing going on between him and that Caitlin girl?”

  She rolled her eyes. “That reminds me, you said you’d tell me why you were asking all those questions about her at lunch.”

  I told her what Sidney had overheard about Caitlin getting drunk at the party. “I don’t know what happened to her, but if those jocks drugged her or took advantage of her while she was wasted, they shouldn’t get away with it.”

  “You’re right,” Annalee said, “but she’s probably not gonna tell anybody about it if she hasn’t already, and I don’t think anybody would back her up if she did. They’d be too afraid of getting kicked out of the popularity club.”

  “Yeah, I know all about how that works,” I said. “I used to be president of that club, remember? But from the way they acted at lunch today, it’s pretty clear she’s on the fringe already, and a couple of the other girls didn’t look too happy either. If I can get any of them to tell me what happened, maybe I can get some justice for Caitlin on my own.”

  A smile spread slowly across Annalee’s face. “You mean the way you handled Dougie and his pals?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Zombie justice dealt out Chuck Norris style. The way I see it, those guys are predators just as much as the ones online. Taking care of them is part of my assignment.”

  “I like it.” She raised her hand for me to slap. “And I hope Matt Winston is the first one you take out. In fact, you should kick his butt even if he didn’t have anything to do with Caitlin. He deserves it for what he did before.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, excited about finally getting some information. “What’d he do before?”

  “Well, I don’t know it for a fact,” she said, “but right after he transferred to Bay Harbor, there was a rumor going around that he left his other school because a girl accused him of rape.”

  “Oh, really?” I said. “If that turns out to be true, I’ll definitely be paying Mr. Matt Winston a visit he won’t ever forget.”

  “How are you gonna find out if it’s true or not?”

  “I get the feeling Lew knows all about Matt’s past,” I said. “But if he won’t tell me anything, I’ll have to see if I can find out from Matt himself.”

  She frowned. “How are you gonna do that?”

  “He hit on me the first time he saw me,” I said. “I can’t see him passing up a chance to take Gwen out even if he thinks she’s trash. And I’m sure his true colors will come out as soon as we’re alone.” I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. “Alone with no witnesses.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Dougie wasn’t on the school bus when we got on the next morning.

  “Maybe he’s at the police station looking at mug shots of gangbangers,” I said as Annalee and I sat down.

  She laughed and tried to stifle a yawn. “Sorry
. Guess we stayed up too late talking last night.”

  I knew better. I’d seen her tossing and turning all night and heard her muttering in her sleep. She was a lot more bothered by everything she’d seen and heard from me than she was letting on. I just hoped it wouldn’t be too much for her.

  For my part, I’d spent most of the night online reading every word of every article I could find about my case. It actually seemed as if Vanessa was truly upset by my disappearance, and I couldn’t help wondering if she might’ve cared a little bit about me after all. If she did, she’d sure done a helluva job keeping it a secret. But could I have been wrong about her? And did I want to be wrong?

  I’d also waited until Annalee went to sleep before logging in to Gwen’s FaceSpace to see if there was anything from Lew. Good thing, because I would’ve died a second death if she’d seen me giggling like a dork when I read his post on my wall.

  Spent the evening plotting your downfall like a good nemesis. Triple C saves the world from the Zombie Apocalypse. Story at 11.

  Was he just being funny, or did that mean he’d really been thinking about me all night? And, God, what a ridiculously big thrill it had been to see him use the nickname I’d given him.

  Annalee interrupted my private Lewfest when she said, “Be sure to tell your foster mom thanks again for letting me have these clothes.”

  “Okay, but I think the dozen times you thanked her already is enough. Those jeans do look great on you though. I saw a couple of guys checking out your butt when we got on.”

  “Yeah, right.” She blushed, but I could tell that made her happy. I really needed to figure out a way to help her find some confidence.

  When we got off the bus at school, we headed toward Sidney and his friends in their usual spot, but the sound of angry voices across the parking lot made me stop and turn to look. The group from the cafeteria the day before was standing around Matt’s Silverado, and the guy who’d gotten the milk poured on his head was holding Caitlin’s arm while she struggled to get free.