by Eileen Cook
“The police came by this morning.”
That shut me up. Her right eye twitched.
“They wanted to know if I knew about your financial situation.” Her voice rose. “They wondered if I was worried since we were supposed to move in a few months and you didn’t have the cash.”
“They’ve looked at my bank accounts?” The temperature of the blood in my veins instantly dropped twenty degrees.
“That’s not what’s important,” Drew spit. “What the hell, Skye?”
I focused on her. “I was going to tell you,” I said softly.
She shook her head. “I gave up my dorm space. Do you get what that means?”
“I—”
She cut me off. “I’ve got nowhere to live. I move in three months. You looked me right in the face and lied.” Her mouth twisted as she said lied, as if the word tasted nasty in her mouth.
My spine stiffened. “You’ve lied too. You never told me that you talked to Paige about Lucy.”
She jolted and shot a quick glance over her shoulder. “Lower your voice. I didn’t tell you, because it wasn’t any of your business.”
“It wasn’t yours either. You just wanted Paige’s attention. We’re graduating in weeks, and you still care about impressing the popular crowd. Paige was never going to like you. She’s not even gay, but you still wanted her to notice you.” I shook my head, trying to clear the storm of thoughts clouding up my brain. “Look, it doesn’t matter—”
“Don’t try and make this about me. Your lie was completely different. Face it, you never really wanted to move.”
I threw my hands up in the air. “What are you talking about? This is all we’ve talked about for years.”
“But you didn’t do anything to make it happen, did you?” Drew shook her head. “You didn’t actually try to save any money.”
A hot ball of anger grew in my belly. “It’s not that easy. You’ve never had to help pay the bills. It’s different for me—I had other responsibilities.”
Drew stared me down. “Bullshit.”
“What?” I spluttered.
“I call bullshit. I never said it was easy to save money, but you had years. Deep down, you were scared to go, and you gave yourself a way out. You can think you are so much more street savvy than me, but you’re scared. You can make up excuses if it makes you feel better, but you never really planned to leave. You lied to me and maybe to yourself, but don’t keep doing it.”
That wasn’t true. I had planned to go. I started to shake. “I need to explain.”
“You can’t come in. My mom doesn’t want me hanging out with you.” Drew’s voice was low.
“What?”
“She’s been watching the news about Paige, and she doesn’t like how you and your mom are exploiting her death. Then with the police showing up, she really lost her shit.”
I stepped back. “I didn’t have anything to do with Paige’s death. You can’t actually think I killed her.”
“No, of course not.” Drew looked away, then shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know what to think.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. “What does that mean?”
“The ransom money for Paige would have solved a lot of your problems.” Drew’s voice was tight and tiny.
“I can’t believe you’re saying that. You know me.”
“No. I think I know you and then you do something like this.” She threw her arms in the air, nearly knocking down the wreath of spring flowers her mom had on the door. “You say we’re best friends, but then you keep secrets. You tell me half stories.”
“I don’t tell you everything, because you don’t get it. You get a new winter coat every year. You never wonder if the electricity will still be on when you get home. When you say there’s nothing to eat in your house, what you mean is that you don’t have anything good to eat.”
“It’s not my fault my family has money.” Drew stamped her foot.
“It’s not my fault mine doesn’t,” I fired back.
“Let’s face it. We haven’t been close in a year. You resented me for applying to colleges, for making plans.” Her lower lip shook.
I rubbed my eyes. “I never resented you, but our lives are going in different directions. We’ve been pretending things would be the same. Both of us have been lying to each other.”
“We might have changed, but I still thought we were friends. Or maybe you just didn’t want to be my friend anymore, and instead of being honest, you lied.”
I blinked, trying to figure out how this conversation had gone downhill so quickly. I could feel my throat tightening as tears threatened. “Sometimes I want so badly for things to be different that I don’t want to admit the truth, even to you.” I swallowed over and over.
“Maybe you should just go.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but I couldn’t think of a thing to say, so I spun on my heel and marched off. My legs were stiff, and my joints didn’t seem to work right, so my walk was jerky, like a windup toy.
A headache thumped behind my eyes. It was just as well I’d talked to Drew. Now I knew where things stood. I was on my own. I always had been; I just hadn’t wanted to admit it.
Forty
When I opened the apartment door, the first thing I saw was the police. There was an officer in the kitchen rummaging through a cupboard and another going through our front hall closet. Every atom in my body turned to sharp ice crystals freezing me in place.
“What’s going on?” I managed to push out.
Mom called out from the living room, “There you are, Skye! Come on in.”
My feet felt rooted to the carpet, but I shuffled forward. Detective Jay was sitting across from my mom with the tarot deck on the coffee table between them. My bedroom door was open, and Detective Chan was inside.
Mom looked up. “You’ll never guess what the police found.”
I looked back and forth between Mom and Jay. “Wha—” I had to clear my throat before I could continue. “What did they find?”
Mom held up something tiny and black, her face splitting into a smile. “My glove! That one I was sure was lost forever.”
No way there were three police officers in our house to help my mom track down missing accessories.
“This is standard procedure,” Detective Jay said, guessing the question I hadn’t asked. He cocked his head at an angle. “You don’t have any reason to be nervous. Unless there’s something you’re not telling us.”
There was an awkward pause and then I shook my head. This wasn’t standard procedure. They didn’t believe me, but they didn’t have any proof either. They were trying to rattle me.
Mom waved a finger in my face. “You afraid they’re going to find a hidden stash of booze in your room?”
“No.”
Mom winked at Detective Jay. “She says that now, but last summer I caught her and her friend red-handed with a bottle of Grey Goose vodka and a bunch of regrets. Do you have kids?”
“No, ma’am. Not yet, anyway.” He started to turn toward me, but Mom took his elbow.
“Let’s see what you have in store.” She flipped a few cards over on the table. “Interesting. Queen of cups.”
Detective Jay inspected the card. “Is that good?”
“It means you’ll be a dad at some point.”
“It can also mean new insights,” I pointed out.
“I guess I’d be okay with either of those,” Detective Jay said.
“You say that now, but wait until they’re teens.” Mom laughed. “Insights are easier.”
“Your psychic business has taken off, huh?” Detective Jay said, flipping the card between his fingers. I watched the queen wink at me as she spun in and out of view.
Mom nodded and raised her chin in the air. “I even got a couple TV interviews set up.”
“You didn’t tell me that,” I said. If Judge Bonnet was willing to take out his own kid, getting rid of my mom or me wouldn’t even cause him a second of discom
fort. My mom was so focused on taking advantage of her big break, she wasn’t aware of how much danger she was in. I couldn’t let her do those interviews. She might as well put a giant target on her back. A new wave of panic began to rise. She had no idea. “Maybe you shouldn’t,” I hedged.
“There’s nothing I can do for Paige anymore, but I can help other people.” Mom folded her hands in her lap. She was trying to look professional, but I could see the excitement in her posture.
“There may be nothing you can do, but this case is far from closed,” Detective Chan said, leaning against the doorjamb. “I did have a couple of questions for you, Skye.”
“You’ve been through my bank accounts,” I said.
He nodded. “We’re checking everything out.”
My mom sighed. “You can’t honestly think Skye is behind this.”
“I don’t want to believe that, but I do have questions. Skye never mentioned her financial situation.”
“Did you ask?” Mom inquired before I could answer. “Was she supposed to show up and say, ‘I had this prediction, and oh, by the way, here’s a recent bank statement for your review’?”
“No, of course not. But as you can imagine, since there was a ransom request, we’re going to look at who might benefit from an infusion of cash.”
Mom laughed. “Who wouldn’t benefit from extra money? You could line up suspects on every floor of this apartment building if that’s your criteria. Heck, this whole side of town.” She lowered her voice. “And between you and me, half the people in those fancy places across the river are in debt up to their eyebrows. They’re the ones with more to hide. If you’re looking for people desperate for money, I’d look at those who would be most ashamed to be without it.”
Detective Jay took in the room, with its ragged furniture and worn carpet, then looked back into my eyes. “We asked around. People at your school were under the impression that you had the funds to move to New York in a couple of months with your friend. They said you were very clear about that, but that wasn’t true, was it?”
“It’s obvious you never had kids,” Mom said, waving away his words. “You think it’s easy to be the kid who doesn’t have the latest iPhone, the designer jeans, or the big after-graduation plans?”
Detective Jay looked uncomfortable under my mom’s barrage. “Of course not, but you understand we have to check this out. I want to help, but I need you to be honest with me.”
Suddenly the bag on my shoulder felt a thousand pounds heavier. The last note from Paige was in there. I’d taken it to show Drew before everything went to hell. If he asked to search my bag, he’d find it. My brain scrambled as I tried to figure out what I would say if he asked. My lungs felt as if they’d shrunk five sizes and were incapable of bringing in enough air to keep me alive.
“I was embarrassed, so I let people think I was moving to New York.”
One of the officers came into the living room. “We’re done in the kitchen.”
Detective Jay sighed as he pushed up from the chair and motioned for Chan to join him. “I think we’re done here. I don’t want to take up any more of your time.” He shook my mom’s hand and mine.
“Maybe now you can focus on who really did this,” Mom said. “Get justice for that girl and her family.”
“Don’t you two worry. We’re going to catch who did this.” Detective Chan held my gaze for a beat too long and then he and the officers they’d brought with them shuffled to the door.
“You folks have a good day,” Detective Jay added.
I crossed my fingers that he would leave before any of them realized that they still hadn’t looked in my bag.
“Take care,” Mom called out.
I shut the door behind them and clicked the deadbolt.
Mom absently flipped cards on the table, lining them up in different pairs. “Huh. Interesting.”
I stepped toward her so I could see the card. Seven of swords. Deception and betrayal.
Forty-One
The hotel ballroom was done in deep navy blue and silver with a giant crystal chandelier. The Bonnet family was at the front on a raised platform. They’d set up an easel that held a giant photograph of Paige. It was her senior picture, her hair blown out to glossy perfection and the soft light giving her the appearance of a halo. The TV camera focused in on her picture for a beat before backing up to show the full scene.
Mr. and Mrs. Bonnet stood center stage, stiff and formal like soldiers on parade. Paige’s sister, Evelyn, was there too, standing to the side, her hands clasped in front of her and her head bowed as if she was praying.
“Our family is devastated at the death of our daughter.” The judge stopped to look down before continuing. “She was a bright and vivacious young woman who was called too soon from this earth.”
He didn’t use any notes, but his speech was too polished to be off the cuff. He must have practiced. The idea of him doing the talk over and over again in front of his bathroom mirror, getting the timing for when he would let his voice crack just perfectly, gave me the creeps. Paige had told me not to buy into his fake persona, and I certainly didn’t anymore. He looked the part of a brokenhearted father, but now I could see the ugly underneath.
“We’re working with the police to find the person, or persons, responsible for this tragedy.” The judge paused as if overcome. He hadn’t mentioned Paige’s name once. She was already less of an individual. An abstract tragedy. “We appreciate anything the public can do to assist, but also seek to remind people that this is a blow to our family and shouldn’t be used by others for gain.” The judge stared into the camera lens, as if he could see into my living room, and I fought the urge to pull out of his line of vision.
“I’ve built a reputation in my career for focusing on law and order. Now it’s become personal. I don’t want any family, any individual, to suffer the type of loss that my family has experienced. I am sending a message to whoever was involved. If you interfere with me or my family, I will make you pay.” The judge paused to ensure we all understood his determination, then leaned in to the microphones. His closed fist tapped the podium with every statement.
I chewed on my thumbnail while I watched him. I had no doubt that message was meant for me.
“I will be recommitting myself to serving this community”—thump went his fist—“this state”—thump—“and this nation”—extra-loud thump. “Those who would feel themselves to be above the law, who barter in fear and intimidation, should consider themselves to be on notice. There will be no place to hide. I’ll dedicate my life to serving the memory of my daughter.”
His pathetic speech was nothing more than a campaign ad. All that was missing was a rippling flag in the background and an eagle swooping across the stage.
After a pause to make sure everyone had time to digest his words, the judge pointed at a reporter in the front row who stood to ask her question.
“Yes, does this mean you’re formally announcing that you are entering the Senate race, Your Honor?”
He turned ever so slightly so his profile was to the camera. “I don’t think now is the time and place to make a political announcement.”
I gagged on the bile coming up my throat, knowing I would have bought this line of BS from him if I didn’t know the truth. He pointed to another person in the crowd.
“Have the police identified any suspects?”
Judge Bonnet shook his head sadly. “I’m not at liberty to comment on the investigation, but I believe there are no imminent arrests planned.”
“Has your family approached the psychic, Susan Thorn, to see if she can provide any further information?”
My heart skipped a beat. The vein above the judge’s eyebrow pulsed when my mom’s name was mentioned. “Our family is putting our trust in the police.” He looked past her to see if there were any other questions.
The nerves down my spine prickled, like spider legs dancing down the thread of a web. What if he went after my mom? Despite all he
r bluster, she hadn’t really predicted anything, but Judge Bonnet might not know that. Heck, even she didn’t know that. He might think she knew something, and if he did, he’d want to stop her from knowing anything else. I burrowed deeper into the stack of cushions on the sofa, pulling them up and over me.
Judge Bonnet stood center stage with his arms wrapped around his wife and daughter as the press conference came to an end. He planned to stand on Paige’s dead body as a way to leverage himself into office. Her limp form under his wingtips, her soft, decaying flesh giving way as he scrambled up the election ladder. Who would want to run against a grieving father?
I picked at a loose thread on the pillow. I was the only one who knew he’d done it. Without me, he’d get away with it.
Forty-Two
I couldn’t just call the police and tell them to check out the judge. I needed to give them a reason. Trying to figure out a psychic vision that would lead the police to Judge Bonnet was tough. The best readings are vague. You guide a person part of the way with a half-formed idea and let them take it the rest of the way to the finish line. You mention that you see a man, maybe older, and then allow them to ask if it is their long-departed grandfather, or dad, or brother. I didn’t want to run the risk of sending the police after just anyone, but I worried that if I was too specific, it would raise their suspicions further. It was a tricky balance.
I tried out different scenarios in my head until I decided it would be best to keep it simple. I’d say I kept seeing Paige and her dad and that the image gave me a sense of dread. I’d insist that I didn’t know what it meant, but that I was certain it was somehow important to what had happened to Paige. Maybe it would force them to look at Judge Bonnet more carefully. He must have made a mistake somewhere. All I needed was for them to find it and start unraveling his story.
Detective Jay met me in the waiting room. I stood and moved toward the back where the interview room was located, but he stepped front of me. “Let’s get a cup of coffee instead,” he said. He winked at the receptionist, who was ignoring us while sorting a huge stack of files. “The stuff here isn’t bad, but going out gives me an excuse to stretch my legs.”