The Bakersville Dozen

by Kristina McBride

  “Why didn’t you tell?” I asked.

  “Drop it, Bailey. I’m warning you.”

  “The police busted Turley for being on school grounds, but they don’t know he was following you, do they? If they knew, it would be all over the news: ‘Prime suspect fails to abduct one of the remaining Bakersville Dozen.’ But it’s not. Because you didn’t tell.”

  Sylvie shook her head. “I didn’t want to freak my parents out, okay?”

  “You’re lying.”

  “My parents have been through enough, and the last thing they needed was—”

  “But there’s more to it, isn’t there? You’re all about honoring the girls who’ve gone missing. You wouldn’t violate that memorial if someone offered you a million dollars, but today you stole right from the display. Someone must have put you up to it.”

  Sylvie’s chin was trembling, her eyes glistening with tears. “Bailey, please—”

  “Who was it, Sylvie? Tell me!”

  Sylvie bent at the waist, her hands gripping her knees, and I wondered if she was about to throw up. Then I heard her voice, thin but determined.

  “I can’t tell you anything,” she said, taking a deep breath and standing straight as she exhaled, her body tight, eyes hard. “Nothing, okay? Just leave me the fuck alone.”

  In that moment, I knew I had lost my chance with her. That, in fact, I’d never even had a chance, not if she was feeling the uncertainty that had begun to weigh down every one of my own thoughts.

  I was dying to ask her if she’d received a note. A clue. If she’d been led to Leena’s body just as I had. Maybe she’d been threatened into silence with taunts that promised more missing girls—girls who would soon turn up dead.

  But there was no way to tell if I could trust Sylvie. She could be in on the entire thing.

  I turned and walked down the deck’s wooden steps and across the soft grass. Without looking back, I made my way to the trail where Hannah was waiting to take me to Jonesy’s farm, the hayloft, and the uncertainty of the next clue.

  CHAPTER 15

  7:52 PM

  The light bathing the trail was darkening fast with trees blocking the rays of the setting sun. I broke out in a sweat, nervous about my unintentional trek into the woods, trying to ignore the fact that I was alone and vulnerable. But ignoring something always has a way of making it worse.

  I stepped over a fallen limb, and dialed Hannah for the sixth time in the last two minutes. The line rang once, twice, then flipped to voicemail: “Hannah here. You know what to do. Beep.”

  “Hannah! Where the hell are you? You were supposed to be waiting for me at the trailhead behind Sylvie’s. I have no idea where you parked and . . . Look, just call me. Like, right now. Okay?”

  Something was off. Way off. Hannah could be a little unreliable, sure, but always in a girls-just-wanna-have-fun way. Never, ever when someone was in actual need. Somewhere in the distance I heard a branch snap. The sound startled a flock of birds, all of them rising in unison.

  I dialed Hannah again, listening as the line rang and voicemail picked up again. “Please, Hannah,” I said, my voice a whisper. “I’m scared.”

  And then I heard footsteps, slow and cautious like a predator tracking, determined to not scare off its prey. I froze, one thought pinging through my mind: What if I am the prey?

  The crunch of a leaf startled me into action, my feet taking over, pounding the dusty path, twisting me right and then left, down one slope and up another, until I broke into the clearing at the heart of the woods where fading golden sunlight glimmered off the surface of the pond.

  The pond.

  I looked around instinctively, my entire body turning toward the spot where Leena lay with her legs uncrossed and that too-red lipstick staining her lips. I half-expected to see Leena rise from her grassy grave and give me props for daring to challenge Sylvie, or maybe snarl with undead anger for leaving her there to rot without telling the police where to find her. But all I saw were the grasses rippling in the wind.

  I strained to hear beyond the rasp of my breathing, reassuring myself that no one was following. That I was alone with nothing to fear but my own imagination.

  But the hairs on the back of my neck prickled with the feeling that I was being watched, that reassurance dying before it could fully form.

  I swiveled as I caught the swish of feet moving through grass. I was ready to race for the cover of the woods, to run as fast as my legs would carry me. My phone slipped from my hand, but as soon as I registered that fact, I knew there was no time to grab it. I had to move. Fast.

  I saw him a fraction of a second before we collided, a dark shadow blocking out the faded glow of the sun. He was solid and didn’t budge an inch when I smacked into his chest. My heart raced and my entire body screamed at me to escape. But it was too late—his hands wrapped around my biceps and squeezed tight.

  “Found you!” he said, picking me up and twirling me in a circle, before placing me back on the ground. I recognized him in bits and pieces—first the voice, clear and steady, then the eyes, a melty kind of brown. “I was worried you’d be scared out here all alone.”

  “I was. Totally freaked.” My words came in short bursts. “Hannah was supposed to meet me, but she wasn’t at the trailhead, and then I heard footsteps, but I didn’t know it was you and—”

  “Didn’t Hannah text you?” Jude asked, his eyes crinkling together. He leaned down and grabbed my cell from the ground, placing it in my hand.

  “She didn’t text. And she’s not answering her phone.” I took a breath, willing myself to calm down. Jude was by my side, which meant everything was okay. “She was going to park near Sylvie’s and wait for me in the woods so we could avoid the stakeout. I was going to surprise you once we got to Jonesy’s.”

  “Hannah told me everything. She asked me to come and find you. Nice work using Sylvie as a cover to escape your parents.” Jude smiled, giving me a little wink. “I’m stoked that you changed your mind about Jonesy’s. I promise I won’t let you out of my sight.”

  My heart was still racing, adrenaline fuzzing out his words.

  “God, B, I’m sorry I freaked you out.” Jude pulled me into his arms.

  “If you were supposed to meet me,” I said, my words muffled by his cotton T-shirt, “why weren’t you there?”

  “I was at the farm when Hannah called. The no-driving-off-the-property rule’s already in effect, so I had to walk.”

  “Oh,” I said, relaxing. He kissed me then, his lips soft at first, then insistent.

  “I missed you,” he said when he pulled away. “Hated not seeing you last night, but the fireworks run took longer than we expected. Huge accident on the way home. We were stuck in traffic for hours.”

  “I got your texts. What time did you get back?”

  “Like two in the morning. I figured you were asleep, so I didn’t call.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and squeezed, so grateful to have him—solid, easy, safe. “Thank you for coming to get me.”

  “Of course.” Jude pulled away, his eyes meeting mine, flickers of fire from the pond catching in their deep caramel brown. “You know, we don’t have to be in a rush.” Jude smiled as his hands slipped inside the back of my shirt, his fingers dancing across my skin.

  He leaned in again, lips brushing mine, as he guided me off the trail until my back was pressed up against a tree. The heat of his mouth warmed me, rushing through my entire body. My hands reached up, fingers tugging through his hair, and he dropped his mouth to my neck, his breath teasing my skin.

  I suddenly wanted to show him how not “Like a Virgin” I could be. I could prove to myself that, in spite of being stuck sharing yet another secret with Wes, in spite of the scavenger hunt and the dead body lying fewer than fifty yards away, I could still feel normal.

  But the timing was off. My hands were shaking, my mind spinning with thoughts of what had to be done. Not to mention the dead body lying fewer than fifty yards
away. I pressed my hands to Jude’s chest, and eased him away. The movement was slight, but he read my meaning perfectly, just like he always had.

  “I’m sorry, B.” He stood there in front of me, his breath rushed, eyes searching mine. “Are you okay?”

  I leaned my head back against the tree, feeling my hair catch on the bark as I looked up at the purple-tinted sky. I wished we could disappear. That I could escape Wes, the hunt, and Leena’s body.

  My phone dinged; a new text had come in. I was grateful for the distraction. I couldn’t risk getting lost in Jude. Not when there was a clue in play.

  “It’s Hannah. Finally.” I swiped the screen.

  HANNAH—7:59PM:

  HAD TO CHECK IN AT HOME BEFORE HEADING TO FARM. MOM WANTED TO DELIVER SAFETY LECTURE IN PERSON. JUDE’S MEETING YOU IN THE WOODS. ON MY WAY NOW.

  “We don’t have to go to this party, you know,” Jude said, rubbing his thumb along my jaw. “If you’re too freaked out, I understand.”

  I shook my head, dizzy with the weight of all the secrets I was being forced to keep.

  “We could go back to your house . . . Or mine. Order a pizza. Watch a movie. Maybe do a little more of—”

  “No.” I gave him one last kiss before slipping under his arm. “We have to go. Biggest party of our lives, right?”

  Jude grabbed my hand, gently tugging me back to his side. “If you’re sure.”

  I looked toward the swaying grasses, their quiet rustle singing out in the fading light, and pictured Leena there, the tiara’s rhinestones sparking like a beacon, the butterfly on her ring poised to fly away, the splotchy bruises circling her ankles deepening as the night’s shadows swept in.

  I took a deep breath.

  I had to do this.

  Not just for myself, but for Leena, and for all of the other girls.

  “I’m sure.” I squeezed his hand, turning away from Leena and toward the next clue. “Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER 16

  9:53 PM

  People were everywhere. Cars streamed down Jonesy’s quarter mile-long gravel drive, parking in surprisingly neat rows between the ancient farmhouse and the cornfields.

  I stood under Japanese lanterns that were hanging from the lowest branches of an elm tree, a cup of lukewarm keg beer clutched in one hand, while a more-than-slightly-drunk Jude told the story of how he’d once found Mr. Epperson and Mrs. Hutch—teachers at the high school, both married, but not to each other—hooking up in the back of the auditorium. I knew all the raunchy details. It had been sophomore year, the auditorium was dark(ish) when Jude went in, searching for the missing science folder he thought he’d left after an assembly, and surprise!, found Mrs. Hutch with her skirt around her waist, straddling Mr. Epperson who was leaning back in a creaky auditorium seat.

  I heard the cadence of Jude’s slurred words, but I wasn’t following the story. Instead, my eyes roamed the crowd until they landed on Tripp wearing a backward baseball cap, standing atop a small hill in the shadows at the edge of the property, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. I found Hannah next: she was getting up from a wooden bench by the farmhouse garden, waving goodbye as she walked away from the group she’d been sitting with. Her body was backlit by strands of white twinkle lights fixed to the frame of the farmhouse, giving the building with its peeling paint an otherworldly feel. She moved quickly, her legs sweeping across the grass, tapping her wrist with a quick nod as she came closer.

  I checked my phone.

  9:57.

  It was time.

  My heart pounded in my chest. For more than twenty-four hours, I’d known that this moment would come, yet I still wasn’t ready to face it.

  Jude’s voice rose higher as he geared up for the climax of his story—an amplified imitation of Mrs. Hutch reaching a climax of her own. People surrounded him, as usual, hanging on his every word. He was totally in his element, which was convenient for me since I needed to slip away. Hannah wove her way through the crowd and placed a hand on my shoulder, pulling me back through three rows of bodies.

  “Breathe,” Hannah whispered.

  “Easier said than done.”

  “You can do this.” Hannah grabbed my hands and gave them a quick squeeze.

  “We can do this,” I said. “I’m not going up there alone.”

  Hannah bit her lip. “There’s been a little change of plans.”

  “No,” I said. “No one is changing plans on me now.”

  “Tripp found me earlier, and said he’d been here all day, helping to set up so he could keep watch of who was on the property. He was trying to catch whoever is behind all of this as he was leaving the clue and . . . well, you know. Anyway, it didn’t work because all kinds of people were in and out of the barn, prepping for tonight, so—”

  “So, what? We’re all going in. Together. I’m not going up to that hayloft by myself.”

  “Not by yourself. Just not with all of us.”

  “What the hell, Hannah? I thought you guys—”

  “Look, B, there’s no time. It’s past ten by now. You have to get in there. Tripp’s watching you from up on the hill. I’m going to keep track of Jude to make sure he doesn’t follow and stumble in on you searching around.”

  “Thank you. I hate that you and the guys have been pulled into this and I want to keep Jude as far removed as possible. But if I’m not going alone, that leaves—”

  “Wes.” Hannah twisted my shoulders and gave me a swat on the butt. “He’s waiting for you at the side door of the barn. Hurry.”

  I walked away without a word. It was too late to argue.

  When I turned the corner, I saw him, the long shadow of his body stretching across the ground, melting beneath my feet.

  “You’re late.”

  “Hardly,” I said. “It can’t be more than three minutes after—”

  “Like I said, late. But there’s no time for debating. We gotta make this fast. In and out.”

  “Trust me,” I said. “I’m down with fast.”

  Twisting the handle, Wes pulled open the door and disappeared into the shadows of the barn. I followed, squinting. The close air was thick with a mixture of sweet-smelling hay and motor oil. “Let there be light,” he said. And then there was a beam that poured from his phone onto the hay-covered planks beneath our feet.

  I grabbed onto his arm, hating myself for needing the connection, and let him pull me toward the rickety ladder.

  “There’s not going to be another body,” I said, trying to convince myself. I was terrified of finding another one of my missing friends the same way I’d found Leena. “There’s no way someone would bring a body here, to the middle of the party, right?”

  Wes stopped at the base of the ladder, one foot propped on the bottom rung, and handed me his phone, aiming the light up so he could see where he was climbing. “Don’t think about that,” he said.

  And then he was moving—up and up and up—until he reached the top, and swung his leg toward the solid floor of the hayloft.

  “See anything?” I asked.

  “Nothing up here,” he said. “Come on, now.”

  I tucked the phone in the back pocket of my jeans, careful not to turn off the light, and began climbing. When I reached the top, Wes held out his hand, pulling me to his body with one swift jerk. My cheek grazed his shirt as his arm wrapped around my waist. I caught a whiff of his scent—boy and summer and beer—and felt dizzy with the weight of our past.

  Wes didn’t say a word as I stepped away from him, tugging his phone out. He turned and walked the length of the loft with slow, tentative footsteps. All I saw at first were bales of hay secured with thick twine, stacked high against the back wall. Then the beam from the flashlight skimmed across several brightly colored boxes of fireworks, stashed against the wall to the right of the ladder.

  “What’s over there?” Wes asked, pointing to a back corner that was so dark it looked like a black hole. I guided the beam toward the deep shadow, expecting the void
to suck in the light. But then I saw it sitting atop a haybale—a strip of red, the shade familiar and eerie—and relief flooded my body as I realized it was just another envelope. A clue. Nothing more.

  “Game on,” Wes said, grabbing the phone from my hand and rushing toward the envelope.

  Then I heard a creaking, shuddering sound—the barn door opening and closing—and I knew someone else was in the building with us.

  “Who’s up there?”

  The voice was deep. Solid. And it sounded familiar. But my brain wasn’t processing anything beyond the fact that the girls—Emily, JJ, Becca, Suze—still might be alive. I really might have a chance to save them.

  That’s when the overhead light flipped on, a bright, searing glow that burned my eyes.

  “Bailey?”

  Jude.

  I stepped to the edge of the hayloft and looked down, meeting his eyes, which were clouding with a slow kind of confusion.

  “What are you doing up there?”

  My heart was beating so loudly, I wondered if he could hear it.

  “I’ve been looking for you.” Jude was at the base of the ladder, one foot on the bottom rung, his hands reaching out to grip the sides. “You shouldn’t be up there.”

  “I’m fine.” I rushed to the ladder, twisting around so I could back my way down. “Really. I am.”

  “Is someone up there with you?” Jude asked, shadows playing across the soft worry of his face as the single bulb swung from the ceiling above us. God, I loved the way he looked at me.

  “No.” My heart pounded harder, louder. I really hated lying—especially to Jude. “I’m alone. Just needed to get away for a—”

  Wes’s phone chimed and I froze, the uneven grain of the wooden rung scratching my skin as I dropped my forehead against it.

  “Who’s up there?” Jude’s voice was slow, his words laced with more than a hint of impatience.

  “It’s me, dude.” Wes looked down at us, his hair hanging into his eyes as he stood at the edge of the loft, one hand on the top of the ladder. I was directly between them, and could feel the tension.