The Hanging Girl

by Eileen Cook

  “I’m supposed to believe you’re that irresistible?” I made a show of looking him up and down.

  A trickle of sweat ran down his forehead from his hairline. “No. I’m telling you it was weird. I’d only met Lucy once before at a party at Paige’s place. Suddenly she was all over me.”

  “Let me guess—you held her off because you’re such a standup guy.”

  “Look, I can be an asshole, but I’m not a cheater. Yeah, Lucy and I fooled around, but Paige had broken up with me.”

  “Did you tell Paige?”

  He shook his head rapidly. “Hell no. She must have found out some other way. Paige is scary jealous, even if it isn’t rational. No way Lucy was going to tell her—Paige would have wiped the school hallway with her face. I thought it would be kept quiet.”

  “Wow, you’re a real class act.”

  “I never said I was.” His eyes flickered back to my hands. “Look, can you put the knife down? You’re freaking me out.”

  I’d forgotten I was still holding it. I put it on the counter, but close to me. “How did Paige react when she found out?”

  “She was pissed. She keyed my car.”

  “Did you call the cops?”

  His look broadcast that he thought I was being stupid. “Yeah, sure. I called the police and told them that it was me with my criminal record, and that the judge’s daughter just keyed my car, so if they would be so kind, I’d appreciate them arresting her.”

  “Why was she so angry if you guys were broken up when it happened?”

  He rolled his eyes. “That wouldn’t matter to Paige. It didn’t matter that she didn’t want me anymore. The point was that I should still want her. She figured I belonged to her.” He shrugged.

  “Did you want her back? Even after the thing with Lucy?”

  Ryan sighed. “Yeah. No. I don’t know. Things with her weren’t good.” He took a deep breath. “The girl was crazy, but there was still something about her.” He threw his hands up in the air. “I can’t explain it.”

  “How well do you know Lucy?”

  “Not well. We didn’t exactly spend a lot of time talking.” He smirked.

  “You didn’t kill Paige, did you?” I asked, already knowing the answer. He shook his head. “I didn’t either,” I said.

  “Does it matter? She’s gone.”

  “It matters to me.” I jabbed myself in the heart with my finger.

  He sighed. “Well, you’re on your own. Call me cold, but it’s time I focused on saving my own ass.”

  Thirty-Six

  I locked up the Burger Barn after Ryan left, but I didn’t want to go home. I couldn’t sleep; my brain was spinning in circles. There weren’t many options of where to go in our town after eleven. I walked over to the twenty-four-hour Pancake Palace and wedged myself into a booth.

  The waitress dropped off a cup of coffee and left me alone so she could go back to comparing manicures with the hostess. I stacked the creamer containers into a pyramid, knocked them down, and then stacked them all over again.

  I clicked around on my phone, trying to find information. I searched using Lucy’s name and her former school. I scrolled through various pages detailing her track success, her role in the play Oklahoma!, and her run for junior class president. Nothing useful. Of course if it were that easy, someone would have stumbled across it before now.

  I pulled up her Facebook page. She didn’t post often. Her most recent post creeped me out. It was a picture of Paige with the caption good friends are never gone from our hearts. I scrolled back and realized her page started at the beginning of the school year. I leaned back. That was weird. I wondered if she had an earlier page that she’d deleted.

  I watched the couple one table over. The woman would pour a drop of maple syrup onto her finger and then he would lick it off. I wondered whether they’d hook up before he went into a diabetic coma. They were the only people in the place other than a truck driver wearing a MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN hat sitting at the far back, shoveling forkfuls of scrambled eggs into his mouth.

  I pushed the mug of coffee away from me as if it were contaminated. Was Lucy capable of killing Paige? That was pretty damn dark. I didn’t like Lucy much, but I had a hard time picturing it. But I was almost a hundred percent certain it wasn’t Ryan.

  I pulled out my phone and did a quick search of the online student directory. Once I found Lucy’s number, I sent her a text. We need to talk.

  Her answer came back almost immediately. Stay away from me.

  I typed back furiously. I know about you and Ryan.

  I folded my legs underneath me, waiting for her to answer. Nothing. I waited another minute. I’m not going away until you answer my questions.

  Two more minutes ticked by. When my phone finally rang, I jumped.

  “Stay away from me,” Lucy hissed into my ear.

  “You and Ryan hooked up.” There was a loud clatter of plates as the busboy dumped dishes into the giant Rubbermaid tub balanced on his hip.

  “How do you know about that?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Paige must have been really ticked. I bet the cops would find that interesting.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lucy said.

  I clenched my free hand into a fist. “I want to know what happened between the two of you.”

  “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

  I paused while the waitress filled up my cup with the stale coffee that had been sitting on the burner for hours. Once she moved away, I lowered my voice. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll tell the cops you were sleeping with Paige’s boyfriend. Then I’ll tell them to check out what happened at your old school.” I crossed my fingers that she wouldn’t know I was bluffing and had no idea of the full story.

  The phone was silent. The only way I knew she hadn’t hung up was that I could hear her breathing. I’d had too much coffee. My hands were shaking again.

  “How dare you bring that up?” she spit.

  There was a pause, and the pressure in my chest made me realize I was holding my breath.

  “Did Paige threaten to tell everyone about your past?”

  “Stay the hell away from me, or I’ll make you wish you had.” Lucy clicked her phone off.

  I needed to talk to Drew. I glanced at the giant clock on the wall; the hands were made out of a giant knife and fork. It was after midnight. No way I could show up at her house now. She wasn’t supposed to be on the phone this late either. Screw it.

  I rang her cell number, hung up after one ring, and then called back, letting it ring twice before hanging up. It had been our signal forever. If she was still up, she’d call me back if she could talk. I took a sip of the bitter coffee and then pushed it away.

  My phone buzzed, skipping along the top of the table, and I snatched it up.

  “When you said we’d talk later, I didn’t think you meant this late,” Drew said softly.

  “I need to ask you something.”

  She paused as if she sensed something was off in my voice. “Sure.”

  “What did you tell Paige about Lucy?” Silence. “You still there?”

  “I could get in a lot of trouble if it came out that I told anyone.”

  The smell of bacon and burnt toast was making me nauseated. “I’m already in trouble. I know something happened at Lucy’s last school. And I know you thought it was important enough to tell Paige.”

  Drew sighed. “This is just between us—right? I overheard my mom talking about it with one of her friends at work. There was a girl at Lucy’s old school who was a patient in the hospital, Shawna something. She was hurt pretty bad. Depending on who you believe, Lucy either pushed her down a flight of stairs on purpose or it happened by accident.”

  My mouth was dry. “Why would people think Lucy did it on purpose?”

  “Lucy was totally obsessed with a girl in her school, Cara. Cara hated Shawna. The police thought Lucy might have pushed Shawna down the stairs to get in good wi
th Cara, but they couldn’t prove it. The official story was it was an accident.”

  I blinked. “That’s messed up.”

  “Tell me about it. My mom was pissed. She thinks if Shawna had been white, the cops would have dug harder. The thing is my mom could get in real trouble if people knew she was talking about patients outside the office.”

  “But you told Paige,” I pointed out.

  “It seemed to me Lucy was obsessed with her too. I felt like someone should warn her.”

  And Drew liked the idea of having a secret with Paige, but I didn’t mention that.

  “Do you think Lucy had something to do with what happened to Paige?” Drew asked quietly.

  “I don’t know. Have you told anyone else?”

  I heard her swallow. “No. My mom is going to be pissed if this comes out. She’s not supposed to talk about patients—there are serious rules about privacy.”

  The waitress paused at my table again. “Anything else?” She wanted me out of there. I’d been sitting at her table for more than an hour. I shook my head, and she slid the check closer to me. “I’ll be back in a minute in case you need change.”

  “I gotta go. I’ll come by tomorrow, and we can talk.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted.

  Thirty-Seven

  I’d been up most of the night turning over what I knew. Paige had pulled together this abduction project and kept all those plates spinning. She would have covered every base. Or at least she thought she’d covered them all, but one had come crashing down along the way.

  A little after two in the morning I’d sat straight up in my bed. I actually got out of bed and moved toward the door before I realized I wasn’t going to be able to break into the library. I’d have to wait until they opened at eleven.

  By morning, I’d started to second-guess myself. Many things seem brilliant in the dim glow of streetlights, but ridiculous once the sun comes up. I was standing at the entrance of the library bouncing on the balls of my feet and waiting for them to unlock the doors five minutes before they were due to open.

  “I can always tell when it’s exam season,” the librarian trilled as she pulled open the heavy door. “It’s one of the few times this place is standing room only.”

  I smiled absently as I moved past her. Exams were the least of my problems. I checked my phone. Still no word from Drew. I’d texted her first thing this morning. Knowing her, she’d let her phone battery die and didn’t even know it.

  I took the stairs two at a time to the reference room. I stood in the doorway. If I believed in ghosts, I’d have expected to see Paige there. Nothing but dust motes spun in the rays of sunshine coming through the window.

  I stood in the center of the room. It was a long shot, but it was worth checking out. Paige had planned for everything. Now I had to hope she’d considered there might be someone out there who didn’t want her to succeed.

  I grabbed the L encyclopedia off the shelf and dropped it onto the table. The whole reason Paige had picked this way to communicate was because the odds of anyone looking here were slim. I looked to the heavens and crossed my fingers. This was it.

  I turned the thin pages, and there, at the entry that detailed the Lindbergh kidnapping, was a single sheet of folded paper. I backed away.

  Jesus. I had to get control of myself. This wasn’t some message from beyond the grave. Paige left it for me before she took off. It was her backup plan. Even though I’d guessed she might have done this, it was still a shock to see it there. I picked up the sheet, half expecting it to burn my fingers, but it was an ordinary piece of copy paper folded into thirds. It was typed, like all of our notes.

  If you find this note, something went wrong. I didn’t tell you everything. The kidnapping was never my idea. It was my dad’s. I didn’t tell him about you—or about our plan for a ransom.

  His goal was media attention for his campaign. He gets to be the noble brave father. He told me if I went through with it, he’d give me money for a car. One of these days he’ll figure out that paying me off is going to be more expensive than he ever imagined.

  My goal is payback. Payback for all the manipulation. It’s time he learned I’m a lot smarter than he gives me credit for. He’s got a big surprise coming.

  I’m sure everything will go fine—if a girl can’t trust her daddy, who can she put her faith in? But at the same time, I’m leaving this note just in case. You seem like a smart girl. You’ll check here eventually. You’re my safety net he doesn’t know about. If something went wrong, he’s the one. Get the bastard.

  Pluto

  Thirty-Eight

  I sat on the edge of the leather bench in the reference room. I’d read the note from Paige at least a hundred times over the past two hours. She’d left me more questions than answers. I felt lightheaded, and not just because I’d missed lunch.

  Until I’d seen the paper, I’d been so sure that Lucy was somehow involved. I’d expected to find something about her in the encyclopedia. I never expected this.

  Paige’s dad had been behind her abduction the entire time. Now that I knew the truth, it made sense. Things had been too perfect. Paige was smart, but she would have needed help to do everything. The cops had even admitted they didn’t really see me or Ryan as suspects because they didn’t think a kid could pull off something this big. Instead of realizing they were right, I’d just been impressed with Paige, but it was never all her. Knowing where there were cameras, making sure the cabin was abandoned, getting supplies out there, all of it telegraphed that someone logical and methodical had been involved. Someone with resources. An adult.

  Her dad had been front and center for all the media events since Paige went missing. His calls for Paige’s safety had been political ads—showing that he stood for truth, justice, and the American way. I’d known he liked the attention, but it never occurred to me that the entire abduction was about getting that attention. Judge Bonnet’s reputation was for being tough, but having a daughter in peril made him seem more human, vulnerable. It made people feel sorry for him.

  Maybe even want to vote for him.

  Paige’s so-called diary pages had been endorsements at first. How he was this great dad and how she knew he’d do whatever needed to bring her home. For all I knew, he’d written the pages, or at the very least given her direction on what she should write. Then she changed the rules of the game when she asked for the ransom. He hadn’t seen that coming.

  My mind scrambled back. The time I’d gone out to see her and thought I’d heard someone. Had he been there? If he’d been the one to set things up, he would have known where to find her. He might have gone out there to make her get in line. An image of her bruised face flashed in front of me, and I swallowed down a wave of bile.

  Had he done that to her? My bet was that she was supposed to stay in Comstock Park for a set amount of time and then find her way back, having escaped. But I knew how stubborn she could be.

  Of course if I was right, he had done much more than give her a black eye for changing the strategy.

  The money didn’t really matter. The real wound was that she hadn’t done what he wanted. When she wasn’t discovered at the cabin, he must have called her. Maybe he promised her the cash if she came back. Then she told him where she was. It was possible she thought they could talk it out. That since she’d made her point, taught him a lesson, she was safe to come back. But she’d been wrong. What’s more sympathetic than a man who has had his daughter kidnapped?

  A man with a dead daughter.

  I flopped back on the bench, and the springs squealed in protest.

  I chewed on the inside of my cheek. But it wasn’t just sympathy. Paige was a liability. She had a tendency to get attention for all the wrong things. People figure if you can’t keep your own kid in line—how are you going to run the government?

  At some level, Paige must have suspected that her dad was capable of turning on her, or sh
e wouldn’t have left the note for me.

  I glanced at the paper again. Paige said she hadn’t told her dad about me, but she wrote this before she took off for the cabin. If they had a confrontation, or if he threatened her, she may have told him she wasn’t in this alone. If the judge knew that I knew, or that I even suspected the truth, that made me a pretty big loose end.

  I could go to the police and tell them everything. Detective Chan would be smug. He’d known all the time that something was weird about the situation. He’d never believed my psychic act. But would they believe me now? The only proof I had was a single sheet of typewritten paper. I could have typed it myself. I turned it over in my hands. I’d gotten rid of everything else that connected Paige and me right after she died. It was possible the police would think I was delusional.

  Or involved in her murder and trying to cover my own tracks.

  I felt as if I’d downed a dozen cups of coffee and chased them with a six-pack of Red Bull. I was trapped. I couldn’t tell anyone, and I couldn’t be sure I’d be safe if I kept my mouth shut either.

  Thirty-Nine

  Everything in Drew’s subdivision looked the same. The houses were all built by the same developer in the late eighties. Each one a carbon copy of the other, with only tiny details, like curtain color or a wreath on the door, to tell them apart. I hated my apartment complex, but at least it had personality. To find her place, I always counted the houses from the bus stop. I stopped at the front door and took a deep breath before knocking.

  Drew opened the door, then stepped back as if shocked to see me.

  “Hey.” The silence stretched out between us. “I tried text-ing you.”

  “I know.” Drew looked over her shoulder and joined me on the front step, closing the door mostly behind her.

  “Let’s go up to your room—we should talk.”

  “My mom’s making dinner,” Drew said.

  I didn’t see what that had to do with anything, but we stayed on the stoop. “I know you’ve been worried about me, and there’s been a lot going on—”