Dead Set (Aspen Falls Novel)

by Melissa Pearl

  “You should’ve called me because…” He stopped. He wanted to tell her what he was feeling: the intense fear he’d felt when Blaine had told him what happened, the overwhelming relief when he’d seen with his own eyes that she was okay. The ache to protect her, to keep her safe. He wanted to be the one she called, the one she turned to, whenever she needed help.

  He took a deep breath. “Because I care about you.”

  She blinked a couple of times, and he didn’t know if his words took her by surprise or if she was simply trying to process them.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  She sat down on the small couch and he followed suit.

  He didn’t ask. He probably should’ve, but he didn’t. His arm wrapped around her and he drew her close. She collapsed against him. She didn’t make a sound, and he was relieved that she hadn’t burst into tears. He didn’t think he could bear to hear her cry. Not now, not with everything that had happened.

  He held her for a minute, letting the silence settle between them. He waited, his fingers gently caressing her back, and listened as her breathing slowly evened out. His heart relaxed with hers, comforted by the fact that she was safe in his arms.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “You have nothing to be sorry about.” He pressed his lips against the top of her head.

  She pulled away and looked at him, her eyes on his. “I should’ve called you. I…I wanted to.”

  His heart leapt at her admission.

  She swallowed. “And I shouldn’t have said the things I said.” She reached out a hand, her finger gently tracing the scar above his eyebrow. “I’m sorry.”

  He touched his nose to hers. “Apology accepted.”

  She closed her eyes and exhaled, and it was as if he could feel the tension evaporate from her. She adjusted against him, nestling her body close.

  Lucas drew in a long breath, savoring the moment before breaking it with news Alaina would want to hear.

  “So I found something,” he said quietly. His head was leaned against hers, and she was burrowed in beside him. He didn’t know if now was the right time to bring up what he’d found on Noah’s phone and the conversation with Lindsay that had followed, but he didn’t want to keep anything from her.

  She pulled away. “Yeah?”

  He nodded.

  “On…on his phone?”

  Another nod.

  She swallowed.

  “Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath.

  “I don’t have to tell you,” he said quickly. “If you’d rather not know. I can do this on my own.”

  “No.” Her voice was firm. “I…I want to know. I need to be involved with this.”

  He understood. It was that desire of hers that was so like his.

  “There was a message on his phone.”

  “A message?” she repeated. A frown creased her forehead. “But I thought the text messages were wiped clean.”

  “They were. This was on Instagram.” He told her what he found.

  Her eyes widened as he went on to tell her about his brief talk with Lindsay. He thought he saw them go glassy, as if she were on the verge of tears, but she blinked a couple of times and took a steadying breath, somehow managing to stay dry-eyed.

  “What did she say?” Alaina asked when Lucas was done. “About who hurt her?”

  “She didn’t say anything,” Lucas said. “Jack and his buddies showed up and pretty much killed the conversation.”

  “Why would they do that?” Alaina’s eyes narrowed. “Are they friends or something?”

  “I don’t know,” Lucas said. “I’m sure it was just his way to show off in front of his buddies, to save some face after our little talk in the gym last week.”

  She was quiet for a minute. “How do you think this relates to Noah? To…what happened?”

  “I don’t know,” Lucas admitted. “I don’t know that it does, to be honest. But I wanted to tell you. I don’t want to keep things from you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because this is important to you,” he said simply. And then, before he could stop himself, he added, “And because you’re important to me.”

  Her eyes widened. “I am?”

  He nodded. He didn’t trust himself or the situation to say more. Not yet.

  He felt a small smile form on his lips, and his next words were an attempt to lighten the mood, to draw attention away from what he’d just said. “And because two heads are better than one.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “What?”

  “Look, I’m having just as much trouble as you figuring out what the hell is going on,” he told her. “We know something happened to Lindsay, and we know your brother was someone she’d confided in. Beyond that, it’s anyone’s guess.”

  She looked at him. “So you’re saying you need my help? To solve all of this?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Like, as a partner?”

  His heart swelled.

  A partner. His partner.

  Yes. He wanted that.

  Very much.

  But it wasn’t just her words that had his heart singing; it was the shift in her demeanor, too. She was actually teasing him. Despite everything she’d been through, despite the harrowing events she’d lived through just that morning, she was bantering with him.

  And he loved it.

  “Yeah,” he said, his eyes locked on hers. “Like a partner.”

  30

  Tuesday, March 27th

  8.15am

  Alaina couldn’t stop thinking about what Lucas had told her.

  There were other thoughts that tried to invade her mind—mostly ones of Lucas holding her, touching her, whispering to her—but she’d managed to erect a wall for the time being to keep those at bay.

  She was thinking about something else.

  About Lindsay.

  About the message he’d found on Noah’s phone.

  She’d thought about it the rest of that Monday. She’d tried to keep herself busy during the day, scrolling through foreclosed properties in the surrounding area and sketching out some ideas for her latest acquisition, a three-bedroom rambler right near the community college. But she’d had a hard time concentrating. Her thoughts had kept drifting, if not to Lindsay and her message then to the events of that morning.

  With the passage of time and the bright sunlight seeping in through the kitchen window, Alaina was able to look at what had happened early Monday morning through a distant lens. She was embarrassed by how she’d responded, and she berated herself over that for much of the day. Yes, someone had violated her privacy and damaged her property and had done their very best to scare her, but was that any reason to essentially go catatonic on the couch?

  But as afternoon drifted to evening, as the sun shifted and then finally disappeared, Alaina found her sense of unease growing. The window was boarded up and the door was locked, but she still felt exposed. Vulnerable.

  She’d steeled herself, giving internal pep talks and purposely pulling out complicated real estate contracts to go over so she could lose herself in the mind-numbing minutiae of that, and it had mostly worked. By midnight, her eyes stung and yawns punched out of her in rapid succession, but she stayed glued to the couch.

  And woke up there the next morning with Harry curled up beside her. She didn’t have the heart to scold him for hopping up where he wasn’t allowed. She could tell he, too, was a little out of sorts after the events of the previous morning.

  Alaina drank a cup of coffee and picked at a piece of toast. She wasn’t hungry, even though she knew she should be. She’d barely eaten anything the day before. Harry sat by her feet, his big brown eyes staring into hers, hoping she’d share. She smiled, a sad smile. A memory surfaced, of Harry as a puppy sharing her brother’s vanilla ice cream cone. They’d gone out to celebrate his new puppy—he’d gotten Harry the summer of her graduation, and she’d always thought it was to replace her—and that little bit of fur had immediately sat down on N
oah’s feet, eyeing the ice cream cone longingly. Noah had fed that dog human food ever since.

  She broke off a piece of buttered bread and held it out to him. He took it gently, just as he always did, and swallowed it whole. Her smile grew into a full-fledged one and she ruffled his fur.

  “You’re a good boy,” she told him. Boy wasn’t the right word. He was eight, after all. An old man in dog years. He’d lived a good, full life.

  And just like that, Alaina sobered. He had indeed lived a good, long life.

  It served as a bitter reminder that her brother had not.

  She pushed away from the table and walked her dishes back into the kitchen. She tossed what was left of the toast—which was most of it—into Harry’s food bowl and he ambled over to finish it off. She set the plate in the sink, topped off her coffee, and returned to the table.

  Harry wandered back toward her, and she rubbed his ears as she sipped from her mug. His fur was warm and silky, and she wondered why she’d never contemplated having a pet before. There was comfort in having him there with her, of having a creature who provided companionship. He had come with her in those first days after Noah’s death and had transitioned easily, as if he’d expected he would be coming to live with her. Maybe he needed comfort, too. Maybe that was why he’d adjusted so easily.

  Alaina’s thoughts returned to Lindsay. She replayed what Lucas had told her: about the message he found, and how Lindsay had reacted. She knew Lucas had tried to get details out of the girl, but she’d clearly been hesitant to talk. She hadn’t offered him much in the way of answers, and Alaina wondered if Lindsay had been close-lipped because she didn’t want to talk about it, or because of who was doing the asking.

  She drained the rest of her coffee and made a decision. She’d go find Lindsay herself. Talk to her, see if she could get any information out of her. Maybe she’d be more comfortable talking to a woman. And maybe she’d feel a little obligated to open up to Alaina, since she was Noah’s sister.

  The little voice inside of her accused her of hatching the plan for other reasons, to get out of the house that still bore the signs of yesterday’s intrusion, but she ignored it. She knew it needed to be dealt with, especially when it came to figuring out who had done it, but she wasn’t ready. Not yet. Not with everything else on her plate.

  Buoyed by her plan, Alaina hurried into her bedroom and grabbed clean clothes. She’d spent all of yesterday in her pajamas. She spied her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she turned the shower on and she grimaced. She’d also neglected to brush her hair, judging from the rat’s nest on display in the mirror.

  After getting cleaned up, Alaina sat down with her phone and opened her own social media accounts. She searched for Lindsay’s name and immediately found her profiles. All of them were set to private, but Alaina was able to at least see a few photos of her to know who she would be looking for. She took note of the time. It was almost nine o’clock, which meant classes were already in session. She’d have to wait until afternoon to head over. At least she knew where to go: she knew from Noah’s class schedule that English was his last class of the day, and that Lindsay had been in that class with him.

  One problem solved.

  The wait was interminable. She hated sitting idle, hated being forced into inaction. When it was time to head over to the high school, she had to remind herself to drive slow, to not race like a bat out of hell. That would accomplish nothing.

  Alaina parked in the visitors’ lot, a small strip of pavement that had all of five parking spaces, and headed for the entrance. The sun was bright and warm, the sky cloudless, and she soaked up the promise of changing seasons. She looked around. The piles of snow looked smaller, mountains of them pushed into the far reaches of the student and faculty lots, most of them grimy and gray from both the sand and gravel and the cumulative exhaust from the cars. Soon they would disappear altogether.

  She was ready. She needed a change of scenery, something that could visually help her move beyond the events of that winter. She knew she couldn’t escape the sadness and hopelessness forever—even if they abated, which she doubted would happen, they would come back. Emotions were like that. Like seasons. And maybe some winters would be milder than others, but she knew it was a guarantee that, for the rest of her life, this season, these visual cues of snow and bare-branched trees, of brightly colored hats and thick boots and even thicker coats, would remind her of what she had lost that winter.

  Alaina reached the front entrance and stepped through. A man who looked like he might be a security guard was stationed at a desk right out in front of the bank of admin offices.

  He glanced at her. “Can I help you?”

  She swallowed. She’d forgotten that they had a secured building during school hours.

  “My name is Alaina Dans.”

  The man broke into a smile. He looked to be in his fifties, with a thick beard and a belly that looked like he was vying for Santa Claus’s position.

  “I know you,” he told her. “You graduated, what, five years ago?”

  She shook her head. “Eight.”

  The man let out a low whistle. “Has it really been that long? You don’t look a day over eighteen. And I can’t believe I’ve been here that long.” He let out an exaggerated sigh and then grinned again. “What can I do for you?”

  Alaina cleared her throat. “I’m actually here to see one of my brother’s teachers.”

  She figured she would probably run into Mariah Coates, considering that was the class Lindsay was in, so technically it was true. It just wasn’t the real reason she was there.

  The guard immediately sobered. “I was sorry to hear about Noah.”

  Alaina looked away, nodding. Some days were easier than others, acknowledging the condolences that people offered. Standing in his school, knowing she was there to perhaps find out information that might help shed light on what had happened to him, made this particular exchange one of the harder ones.

  “Thank you,” she managed to murmur.

  The man coughed, and she wondered if it was to clear the tension that had sprouted up or if he really had needed to clear his throat. “You know what class he was in? Who his teacher was?”

  “Ms. Coates.”

  He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Her class is down that first hallway. Third door down.”

  Alaina nodded. “Thanks.” She offered a quick goodbye and hurried off.

  Mariah Coates was just locking her classroom door when Alaina turned the corner. She shouldered her book bag and turned in Alaina’s direction. And stopped.

  Her face flickered with a frown.

  Disappointment bubbled inside of Alaina. Lindsay was gone. She’d missed her, and felt like a prize idiot for getting her timing wrong. She’d waited all day…for nothing.

  “You’re back,” Mariah said, her voice a little flat.

  Alaina straightened. “I am.”

  “Look, if you’re hoping to get more information out of me, I’m telling you right now that I can’t give you anything more. At least not without going to Principal Skidmore and determining what the legalities are.”

  “I’m not here to see you.”

  Mariah’s eyes widened slightly.

  “I’m… I was actually hoping to see Lindsay.”

  “Why?”

  “I need to ask her something. About a private conversation she had with my brother.”

  “Oh?”

  Mariah was curious; this much was obvious.

  “I don’t know that I’m at liberty to say anything,” Alaina said coolly.

  She had to admit, it felt good being able to give this woman a taste of her own medicine. And, yes, Alaina knew the woman was just doing her job in protecting Lindsay’s schoolwork, but still. There was satisfaction in saying those words.

  Mariah pursed her lips. “I see.”

  “Any chance you know where she is?”

  A group of boys ambled past them, laughing loudly as they jostled each
other. Alaina glanced at them; they were wearing warm-up suits, and looked like they were on their way to the gym.

  “Ms. Coates,” one of them said. He was tall, good-looking. “You coming to our game tonight?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “I’m afraid I can’t, Jack.” She thumped her book bag. “I have about a hundred essays to grade. Including yours.”

  The kid smiled broadly. “You should just give us all As and come to the game.”

  “Oh I should, should I?” She winked at him.

  The kid’s gaze landed on Alaina and just as quickly, he looked away. Probably realized she wasn’t a teacher or anyone important. The boys walked on and Alaina turned her attention back to the English teacher.

  Mariah dug her keys out of the large book bag and slipped the keychain coil over her wrist.

  “So you don’t know where I might find Lindsay?” Alaina asked, returning to their conversation. “Is she in any sports, after-school activities?”

  “I’m not really sure,” Mariah said.

  Alaina didn’t believe her.

  “Fine,” she clipped. She wasn’t going to waste another second of her time with her.

  She turned to go but Mariah’s words stopped her. “Where’s that friend of yours?”

  “Lucas?”

  Mariah nodded.

  “I imagine he’s working,” Alaina said. “Did you need him for something? Maybe I can relay a message.”

  A slow smile spread across Mariah’s face and her almond eyes narrowed. “No need. I’ll just catch up with him this weekend.”

  Alaina couldn’t help herself. “This weekend?” she echoed.

  Mariah nodded. Her smile was almost blinding now. “Our date.”

  Alaina tried to keep her expression neutral, but it was hard for her to keep her mouth from dropping open. She felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her.

  Mariah sailed past her and Alaina looked to the floor, determined to not watch her go.

  Lucas had a date with Mariah?

  Alaina sagged against the cinderblock wall. It felt hard and cold, even through her winter coat.