Lies Never Sleep

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Lies Never Sleep Page 11

by Stacy Claflin

“Why would I know anything?” She rose and stared back.

  “You tell me.”

  “I don’t get involved with my student’s lives.”

  He arched a brow. “Never?”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “I think you know more than you’re saying.”

  “Why would that be?”

  Morgan glanced down at the drawer where he’d seen his son’s pen earlier.

  “My desk?”

  “You have Atlas’s pen.”

  “We went over this before.” She held up her tin of pens and pencils. “Kids leave these behind all the time.”

  “But you have one in a drawer.”

  “Is that a crime?”

  He crossed his arms but didn’t reply.

  She flung open the drawer, grabbed the pen, and held it out. “Here. Take it. You act like this is some treasure of mine. It’s just a pen.”

  He took it and got a whiff of floral perfume.

  “You can leave now. Like I said this morning, I’ll email you if I hear anything—which I haven’t.”

  “I have one thing for you to see first.”

  Her expression tightened. “What is it?”

  Morgan found the best picture of the necklace then held out the screen so she could see it.

  Ms. Johnston glanced down at it, then looked up at him. “A necklace?”

  “With your initials.”

  She peeked at it again. “Plenty of people have those initials. I can think of several students off the top of my head.”

  “So you’re saying this isn’t yours?”

  “I’ve never seen it before.” She looked straight into his eyes. “Are you trying to accuse me of something?”

  “Is there something you should be accused of?”

  “What you’re insinuating is an extremely serious offense. You need to be one hundred percent sure before you start pointing fingers about something of this magnitude.”

  “Then do you know someone with those initials that it might belong to?”

  She shook her head. “I suggest you spend more time with your kids so you know these things. I’m sorry I can’t help, but I need to get going. Some students will be here momentarily for tutoring.”

  He left the classroom without another word. Coming to the school hadn’t been the best idea. Of course the woman would deny any wrongdoing. It would cost her her job.

  Not only that, but now she knew he was onto her.

  What would she do to protect her job? What if Atlas or someone else had threatened to blow the whistle? How far would she go to keep from being caught? Did she have something to do with Atlas’s disappearance?

  He needed to get to the bottom of it, and soon.

  15

  Brielle Harrison

  * * *

  “What’s the emergency?” Violet plopped down next to Brielle under the tree and took one of her rice crackers.

  “Where’s Scarlet?” Brielle looked around.

  Violet shrugged and snagged another cracker. “I’m her twin, not her mom.”

  Brielle checked her phone. Scarlet hadn’t texted her back since saying she’d meet them. “So, you haven’t heard anything from Emmett? Or Atlas?”

  Violet’s expression fell and she shook her head no. “Thanks for reminding me.”

  Brielle chewed on her lower lip. “Do you think something bad happened to them?”

  “I don’t know what to think. And it sucks that I can’t talk to anyone else about how worried I am about Emmett. Layne’s going around acting like she’s still his girlfriend.”

  “Then set her straight. Make sure everyone knows the truth.”

  “Seriously? Without Emmett here, it’s my word against hers, and last anyone else saw him, they were together.”

  “But they were fighting, weren’t they?”

  Violet sighed. “Not really. He was just feeling suffocated. Says he doesn’t not like her or anything like that. He just doesn’t want to date her because she’s too controlling as a girlfriend.”

  “Well, she’s practically been glued to Trevor’s hip today. That has to make it look like she’s moved on.” Brielle arched a brow.

  “Except everyone knows they’ve been friends forever. They’re like brother and sister, you know? Like you with Emmett and Atlas.”

  Scarlet raced over. “Sorry I’m late. I was trying to help a girl with homework. What’s going on?”

  Brielle glanced around dramatically, even though nobody else was remotely in earshot. “You’ll never believe what I overheard this morning.”

  Violet and Scarlet both widened their eyes with the exact same expression. Violet leaned closer. “What?”

  “Does it have to do with finding Atlas?” Scarlet asked.

  “Maybe.” Brielle glanced around again. “You can’t tell anyone. Seriously, this is huge.”

  “I swear.” Scarlet held up her palm.

  Violet pretended to zip her lips and throw away the key.

  “Your dad was here, asking around about Atlas.”

  “We already knew that, Bri.” Violet snatched another cracker.

  “Yeah, but Ms. Johnston was acting weird when he was talking with her.”

  “So?” Scarlet asked. “She’s always jumpy. New teacher syndrome or something.”

  Brielle leaned forward and paused, making eye contact with both of them. “That’s not what I mean. It sounds like…” She let her voice trail off. “Maybe I shouldn’t say anything.”

  “What?” Violet exclaimed. “You didn’t bring us here for that! Tell us!”

  “Well, I could be wrong, but it kind of sounded like there might be something going on between her and Atlas.”

  Violet’s mouth dropped open. “You mean like, they’re seeing each other?”

  Scarlet shook her head. “No way. Not Atlas. He hasn’t even had a girlfriend his age. The oldest one was Ana—she’s our age. He’s not going to suddenly suck face with Ms. Johnston.”

  Brielle sat taller. “Are you sure about that? Maybe he’s into older women now. It makes sense. He’s a lot more mature than he was last year.”

  Violet played with a strand of hair. “You might be on to something.”

  Scarlet turned to her. “Shut up. Atlas isn’t dating a teacher.”

  Violet looked at Brielle. “You’re his bestie. You really think it’s possible?”

  Brielle nodded. “Think about it. He may be on the dorky side, but he’s definitely good looking.”

  Violet made a face. “He’s my brother. Don’t talk to me about his sexiness factor.”

  “Hey, I’m not into him like that either, but there’s no denying the facts. All the nerdy girls follow him like lost puppies. If he was a jock, everyone else would be after him.”

  Scarlet rose to her feet. “I don’t think I can take any more of this. Atlas is missing, and you’re talking about him seeing a teacher. It’s just too much.”

  “Wait!” Violet jumped up. “Remember how last week we were talking about how we thought Atlas was hiding something? He was sneaking around the house, acting weird. Maybe this is why. What if Brielle’s on to something?”

  Scarlet scrunched her nose. “He’s not dating Ms. Johnston. There’s just no way. I want to find him, not get sidetracked with a wild goose chase. Maybe Dad has the right idea. We should ask more people. The police can only do so much.”

  “Come on, Scar. You and I both agreed that he was acting strange. Hiding something.”

  “But not this strange. Not Atlas.”

  “Think about it. He’s eighteen—a legal adult. She can’t be more than a few years older. They’d both probably need fake IDs to get into a bar.”

  Brielle jumped up. “Haha. There’s no way she’s that young, but you’re proving my point. It’s not so crazy. They’re probably waiting for Atlas to graduate so they can openly date. Now it’s just technicalities keeping them apart.”

  Scarlet still didn’t look convinced. “Let’s just try to find the
m. I still think Ms. Johnston is a distraction.”

  Violet shook her head. “I think we should look closer at her.”

  Brielle grabbed her bag. “I’m going to talk to her.”

  “Are you crazy?” Scarlet glared at her. “Even if you think she might know something, you can’t just walk up to a teacher and accuse her of that.”

  “Why not?” Brielle put her hands on her hips. “She might know something. Something she can’t tell the police because it would look bad coming from her. But if she tells us, and we tell the police, we could save them both!”

  Scarlet looked back and forth between them. “I can’t believe you think this is a good idea. We’re better off not letting her know that we’re on to her if she really is seeing him.”

  Violet’s eyes widened. “So you do think it’s possible?”

  “Unlikely, but not altogether impossible.”

  Brielle racked her mind for ideas. “If we don’t confront her, what are we going to do? Just ask her questions? That seems kinda lame. Your dad already did that.”

  Violet snapped her fingers. “I know!”

  “What?” Brielle demanded.

  “I’m in her geometry class. I’ll go in and ask for help. Then I can get upset about Atlas being gone and see what she says.”

  Brielle thought about it. “That’s at least a start. Then if that doesn’t work, we confront her.”

  “What if she denies it?” Scarlet asked. “Then she might get you in trouble.”

  “For what? Asking questions?”

  Scarlet shook her head. “For accusing her of something that serious.”

  “I don’t care. My best friends are missing, and she might have answers.” Brielle grabbed Violet’s arm. “Let’s find that cradle robber.”

  “Cradle robber?” Scarlet asked. “You just said there’s hardly an age gap.”

  “She’s still a teacher.” Brielle pulled Violet away. “We’ll let you know if we find anything out.”

  “Don’t get yourselves into trouble.”

  “We won’t.” Brielle picked up her pace. “Your sister can be so annoying.”

  “Right? It’s hard to believe we’re twins sometimes.”

  They went inside the building. Their footsteps echoed around them.

  “It’s like a ghost town in here.” Brielle shivered.

  “Because everyone’s so desperate to get out. We’re the crazy ones coming back in after the last bell.”

  Violet led them to Ms. Johnston’s classroom. She peeked in the door. “Empty.”

  “Then let’s go in.”

  Violet’s face paled. “For real?”

  “Don’t chicken out on me now. This is probably better than actually talking to her.”

  “What if she comes in while we’re looking around? Or someone else comes in? We could get in trouble.”

  “Say you lost something in there. Nobody’ll question that.”

  “Um, I guess.”

  “Come on.” Brielle reached around her and opened the door. “Now figure out what you forgot, because if we are caught, they will ask.”

  “Okay.”

  They went inside and Brielle marched over to the desk. It was messier than most of the other teacher’s desks.

  “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” Violet said.

  “You want to find your boyfriend and brother?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Then let’s do this and get out before anyone finds us. Look around the room while I check out the desk.”

  Violet nodded, then wandered around the aisles, looking around.

  Brielle picked up a container of pens and pencils and looked underneath. Nothing. She moved through them, not finding anything. Then she quickly went through everything else on top of the desk, figuring anything worthwhile would be in a drawer.

  She pulled on the top one. Locked. That was where the good stuff would be. Love notes from students and all that. Maybe even a letter from Atlas saying what their plans had been. If they’d planned on meeting anyone else on their ghost-hunting adventure.

  Brielle opened the other drawers and went through them, careful to put everything back exactly as she found it. There was nothing interesting, but maybe she could find the key to the top drawer. Her quick sweep came up with nothing.

  The key had to be in Ms. Johnston’s purse. Maybe she’d left it in the classroom—if they were lucky. But Brielle wasn’t going to hold her breath. Who would do that in an empty high school, where kids could walk in and find it?

  She glanced over at Violet, who was now at the back of the room. “Find anything?”

  “Nope. We should probably go.”

  “You don’t even know if I found anything interesting.”

  “Did you?” Violet walked back to the front of the room.

  “Not exactly.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “There’s a locked drawer.”

  Violet stopped next to Brielle. “Which one?”

  “Top.”

  “Can’t find the key?”

  Brielle shook her head. “It’s not in any of the other drawers.”

  “Guess that means she’s not stupid. We should go.”

  “Stop.” Brielle nudged her. “Why are you so afraid of being caught?”

  “Do you like detention?”

  “We’re here because you forgot something. It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong.”

  Violet threw her an exasperated look.

  “It’s all in how you present yourself.” Brielle glanced around the room for anywhere the teacher might’ve left her purse. There was nothing. “But we’re at a dead end, so we probably should get going. Maybe she’s at the teacher’s lounge or something.”

  Violet stared at her. “Now you want to go to the teacher’s lounge?”

  “Where else would she leave her purse?”

  “Probably over her shoulder.”

  “That’s one option.” Brielle made sure everything on the desk was where it had originally been, then she made her way to the door. “If I were a teacher, where would I go?”

  “Home,” Violet said. “They probably don’t want to be here any more than we do.”

  “They have a choice. We don’t. She’s got to be around here somewhere. Teachers always stay late.”

  “I really should be at cheer practice.” Violet frowned.

  “Then go.”

  She shook her head. “They told me to take some time off. But seriously, I’d rather just focus on that. It gets my mind off everything.”

  “Like I said, go.”

  Voices sounded from down the hall. It was Ms. Johnston and a student.

  Brielle exchanged a glance with Violet and pulled her into a gap between the lockers. She peeked out.

  Ms. Johnston wasn’t with any student. She was with Layne Zander.

  Brielle gasped.

  “What?” Violet exclaimed.

  “She’s with Layne.”

  “Layne? Why?”

  “Shh!” Brielle strained to hear what they were talking about, but they were too far away to make out more than a word or two. Nothing useful.

  Ms. Johnston and Layne stopped walking and continued talking in hushed tones.

  Brielle leaned forward as far as she dared without being seen. Not that they were paying any attention to her.

  Then they turned around and started walking toward her and Violet.

  Brielle ducked back between the lockers and pressed herself against the wall. “They’re coming!”

  Violet also pressed herself against the wall. “How are we going to explain this?”

  “Quiet.”

  Ms. Johnston and Layne rushed by them, neither noticing them.

  Violet breathed a sigh of relief once they were out of sight. Brielle peeked out and watched them walk into Ms. Johnston’s class.

  “Are we in the clear?” Violet asked.

  Brielle nodded. “Did you catch anything they said?

 
; “I thought I heard something about math.”

  “And I swear Layne said Emmett.”

  Violet scowled. “Of course she would. She keeps acting like they’re still together. Doesn’t she realize he’s going to set her straight as soon as he gets back?”

  Brielle covered her mouth.

  “What?”

  Brielle paused before speaking. “What if she doesn’t expect him to come back?”

  Violet’s eyes widened. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  “If she’s guilty, then pretending to be his girlfriend when nobody would suspect different is the perfect cover.”

  Violet’s eyebrows drew together. “She’s going down.”

  16

  Zion Powell

  * * *

  Rowena sobbed in Zion’s arms on the couch. He rubbed her back and tried to think of something helpful to say. Nothing came to mind. He was on the verge of losing it himself. Seeing Emmett’s coat torn to shreds like that had been more than he could bear.

  His mind conjured up images that brought him straight back to his days fighting in the Marines. He shuddered thinking of his son in a similar situation—lying dead somewhere. But he had to push those thoughts aside and comfort his wife.

  “What are we going to do?” Rowena asked.

  “We’ll do everything we can until we find him. Bring him back home.”

  “He never would’ve given up his jacket without a fight. Something horrible must’ve happened!”

  “We don’t know that.” Zion took a deep breath. “But we do know Emmett. He’s a strong, smart kid. He’ll give back whatever he’s given. Anyone who tries to hurt him will be hurt just as badly, if not worse. The parents of that kid are the ones who should worry.”

  “I don’t know how you can be so sure.”

  “What other option do I have?”

  She stared into his eyes. “Do you have a reason for being certain?”

  He tilted his head. “Are you getting at something?”

  Rowena frowned. “I heard you in your office, Zion.”

  His heart skipped a beat. He’d promised her years earlier that he’d given up the voodoo rituals she hated. The same rituals that had been such an important part of his early life. “Heard what, hon?”

 

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