Little Creeping Things

by Chelsea Ichaso

  * * *

  Athletic practices are canceled on Tuesday for the funeral, but I don’t attend. Instead, I get completely ready in a sleeveless black shift dress, tediously apply eye makeup, and style my hair into loose, bouncing curls. Then I wait until my family is halfway out the front door to inform them I’m not feeling well.

  I’d like to spend the funeral destructive crying—that thing that happens when you sob over your freshly painted face. But I have a mission. While everyone else is at the funeral, I’m going back to the woods to dig up the necklace. Once I’m sure it’s there, I’ll leave an anonymous tip with the sheriff. Hopefully, Brandon left his fingerprints behind.

  As soon as my family’s car engine trails off down the street, the doorbell rings. I squint through the peephole to find Gideon standing there.

  I fling the door open and throw my arms around him, resting my cheek against his chest. His rhythmic heartbeat is soothing, but his arms stay bridled at his sides. Slowly, his body loosens and his arms enfold me. I never want to move, but the moment ends. Gideon steps back and eyes me.

  His face turns a deep red, and his eyes divert to the floors. “Sorry, were you headed to the funeral?”

  “No. My family’s there, though.”

  Gideon’s eyebrows angle in confusion. “You’re not going? Because of the threat?”

  I wrap a curl around my finger. “Not exactly. Why aren’t you at the funeral?”

  “I figured it might be a good time to investigate, while everyone’s there. Those detectives aren’t doing everything they can. Seth was barely questioned before they sent him on his way.” His voice drops. “They’re saying whoever did it tossed her body into the reservoir like garbage.”

  My stomach spins and careens like a wrecked carousel. I picture Melody lying on the muddy bank, blond hair tangled in the slimy rocks and broken bottles. Blue eyes open and empty. “What else are they saying?” I whisper, blinking away the image.

  “They’re doing an autopsy to make sure she didn’t just fall into the water—you and I know that didn’t happen. They’re also saying the necklace wasn’t on her. That the killer kept it as some sort of trophy.”

  Kept it in a small white box. I fold my hands together, but I can’t contain my mouth. “Giddy,” I say, struggling to catch his eyes, “I told you I saw the necklace. Brandon stuffed it into his jacket pocket.”

  “No, you said you thought you saw something that could’ve been the necklace.”

  My shoulders sag. “Well, I’m going to look for it. Good luck finding anything at Seth’s place, since I saw where Brandon buried the necklace in the woods.”

  Gideon’s hand moves to his temple and up through his hair, rumpling it. “You really think he did this?”

  “Yes.”

  “Cass.” He reaches out to touch my arm, but thinks better of it. Instead he fidgets with the pocket of his jeans. “Seth has that necklace.”

  I grit my teeth. “I explained to you guys three years ago how I felt about Brandon.”

  “He’s not a killer because he dated Laura Gellman.”

  “He’s a killer because he killed someone!”

  Gideon sighs. “You’ve got to give me more than that.”

  I want to tell him. I do. To lay out the reasons Brandon’s the guy. But I know Gideon. Once he hears about the fire and the notebook, he’ll trust the cops to take me at my word. And they won’t. They’ll see that photo. The notebook where I described in detail how to kill Melody. My history. They’ll start investigating me, and Brandon will get away with everything. He’ll be free to do this to the next girl who crosses his path.

  Gideon squints at me hard before his shoulders fall. “You look really pretty, Cass.” And he might as well have said, You’re dead on the inside, Cass. He swivels around and heads for the steps.

  My heart slithers down to my feet. He can’t leave this way. “Where are you going?” I shout, scampering after him in my bare feet.

  He stops in the driveway. “To Seth’s place. Are you coming?”

  I stand before him, my eyes drifting to the half-open door, then back to his pleading expression. If I tell him, maybe I’ll end up in prison. Maybe Gideon will hate me even more. Maybe he’ll find some way to forgive me and help prove my innocence. The list of maybes is infinite.

  But if I don’t tell him, there’s only one outcome: he’ll walk down that driveway and never show up on my doorstep again.

  And I guess that’s the thing I fear more than any of it. I blow out a long breath, rustling my perfectly curled hair. “Look, I’ll tell you how I know. But you’re coming with me.”

  Gideon’s brow furrows and then softens. “Fine,” he says, motioning to the door. “Lead the way.”

  I peer down at my funeral attire. “I need to change first.”

  15

  Two minutes later, jeans and a ratty T-shirt replace my dress. I shrug on a hoodie, tie my hair back, and dash out the door.

  Gideon is waiting in the driveway. “Okay, talk. Where are we going?”

  “First, to get shovels.” I hurry around to the side door, and Gideon follows me inside the dark, musty garage.

  “Why do we need shovels?” he asks as I push one into his hands. I grab the second shovel, and the moment seems so insane that a chuckle escapes my lips. Here we are in the most grievous situation of our lives, yet we’re both holding shovels, like nothing has changed since we were ten years old.

  He flashes an incredulous expression and darts out the door, shovel in hand.

  I follow. “Because I know where Brandon’s hiding spot is.” I tug out the crinkled map with the red circle and point. “That’s where we’re headed. He was acting strange during the search on Saturday. He actually pulled me away from my designated area.”

  Gideon stops to raise his brows at me. Then he marches, pushing and hitting at branches as he crosses them. “I still don’t understand why you’re so certain he killed Melody.”

  “Giddy.” I pull at his arm and this time, he doesn’t wrench away. “I should’ve told you this before. But this person is dangerous.”

  Gideon spins around, wariness crinkling the corners of his eyes. Sighing, he lets the metal end of the shovel sink into the dirt. “Cass, I know I haven’t been there for you with whatever you’re going through. But I’m here now. If I’m going to help you, I need to know what you’re hiding.”

  I shake my head. “You’ll think I’m horrible.” A squirrel chitters nearby, and it sounds like laughter, mocking me.

  Gideon drops the shovel and places both hands on my shoulders. “I’d never think that. Go on, tell me.”

  I twist my lips and toss my shovel to the ground. “In September, I put my name in for varsity captain.”

  His head tips back. “I didn’t know that.”

  I tuck my hands inside the kangaroo pocket of my sweatshirt, curling my fists. “It didn’t end favorably for me. But that’s not the only reason I didn’t tell you.”

  My hands fidget inside the pocket, and Gideon digs his fingers inside to hold them. The warmth of his hands settles me, and words begin tumbling from my mouth. Everything. The vote. Melody. The fire.

  Gideon listens intently, his eyes fixed on mine. His fingers run over my palms as I get to the part about leaving the portable classroom a pillar of smoke.

  His expression turns grave and his hands fall still. “You just let it burn?”

  “She had a photo that”—I swallow—“looked like I’d started a fire in a room I wasn’t even supposed to be in. She said if I called or if I told anyone, she’d say she walked in on me starting the fire.” My eyes flood. “No one would’ve believed me over her. Not after what happened to Sara.”

  Gideon’s gaze absorbs mine. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

  “Because you would’ve done the right thing!” Shame rushes into my ch
eeks. “You think everyone is like you, Giddy,” I say quieter. “You would’ve told the cops it was Melody. You would’ve trusted them. And they would’ve taken one look at that Fire Girl photo and trusted Melody.”

  “But I could’ve been there for you. You’ve been all alone.”

  “I know. I just—” I let Melody frighten me into keeping my mouth shut. Because I believed her. I believed everyone in town would trust her word over mine. Just like sometimes I believe she’s right about what happened to her cousin. Seeing the flames on Election Day, feeling the heat, brought some of it back.

  And I think, deep down, I wanted to let Melody burn the way her cousin did.

  Gideon’s head tilts. “I still don’t understand what all this has to do with Brandon.”

  “It was that party a couple weeks back. When you guys thought Brandon and I were getting along so well.”

  Gideon’s shoulders stiffen. A guarded look crosses his face.

  “Look, nothing happened. We just talked. But it was what we talked about that has me positive he’s guilty.”

  “Go on.”

  “We talked about killing Melody Davenport.”

  He doesn’t respond, which is the worst response.

  I shake my head. “I know how it sounds. But I was angry at her and waiting on pins and needles for her to start passing that photo around. I didn’t mean anything I said to Brandon.”

  “What did he have against Melody?” Gideon’s head drifts slowly away from mine, and his hands slip from my sweatshirt pockets.

  “Apparently, she was responsible for breaking him and Laura up. I thought he was bitter-babbling, like I was. At the diner, that notebook we were passing back and forth—it’s sick, I know. But it was a joke. At least, I thought it was. What happened in the woods, though, was exactly like what I wrote down in the notebook.” I pull out my phone and hand it to him, letting him scroll through the anonymous messages. “And Brandon took the notebook. He’s using that and the photo to silence me.”

  Gideon hands back the phone, his eyes glazed over. “I guess this explains why you biked up to the abandoned mill.”

  “I’m so sorry. I…didn’t want to get you involved.”

  Gideon’s hand moves to my back and he pulls me in. His breath is warm against my neck, and, for a while, we don’t talk or move.

  Finally, he whispers into my hair, “I’m glad you told me.”

  “And now you’re dying to say, ‘They’re coming to get you, Cass’ in a spooky voice.”

  “No.” His chin brushes my ear. “At least, I wasn’t going to reference that exact movie.”

  I growl.

  “I just can’t believe Brandon would do all that.” It stings. He pulls back, looking straight into my eyes. “I didn’t mean—I believe you. But I wish I’d known all of that about Melody. You should’ve confided in me instead of Brandon.”

  “I see that now.” But again, Gideon’s wrong. He was the only person who never looked at me like I was Fire Girl. Now that I’ve told him the truth, I don’t know what he sees. “So…you’re still going to help me?”

  “Of course.” His hand closes around my wrist. “Let’s find that necklace. But Cass, we’re going to have to show the detectives the threats. The only thing we can do is get ahead of this creep.”

  “No, no, no, no. It’ll look like a premeditated thing. And I was there, at the murder scene. They’ll never believe me.”

  “It’s the only move we’ve got. I’ll admit the whole notebook situation doesn’t look good. But we’ve cooperated with the detectives so far. They may be able to trace the texts to the killer. We might be able to get this guy. Trust me, please. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  I want to believe him. I look in his calming eyes, my body warming and melting beneath them like chocolate under a blazing sun. His face lowers. It’s so close to mine. His lips begin to purse, and for a split second, I wish for something harder than I’ve wished for anything.

  But Gideon’s lips part, and he says, “I’d give anything to go back in time one week.”

  My cheeks catch fire. It was a stupid wish. “Me too.”

  “She’s really gone, Cass. And it’s our fault.”

  “We didn’t kill Melody. But Brandon wants to make it look like we did. That’s why we can only trust each other from here on out.”

  Gideon’s eyes fall. “Unless there’s more you’re hiding.”

  My hands clench. “This is why I didn’t tell you.” I tear myself away and bend over to retrieve my shovel. “Are you going to help me look for the box, or not?”

  He exhales and leads the way. A chill in the air whips through me, and I miss the warmth of his chest even more.

  Gideon’s walk is determined, but he pauses to hold the larger branches aside for me as we travel deeper into the forest. The pine scent, the bickering, the shovels—everything seems just as it was when we were kids.

  But now Melody’s ghost is hovering in the air between us.

  “I feel like we should’ve been there by now,” I say. The shovel bounces off my shoulder repeatedly, bruising it. I want to snatch the map from him. Is he even going the right way?

  “We’re close. Let me take that,” he says, reaching for my shovel. He heaves it over his shoulder, and it clanks against the one resting there. After several yards, he stops to survey the area. “It should be right around here.” He checks the map again. “Does this look familiar?”

  “Yeah. That’s the thorny shrub of death over there,” I say, flicking my chin at it. “So up ahead. That’s the spot Brandon didn’t want me to search.” Sure enough, there’s the large white rock tucked within a cluster of trees. “Somewhere around here.” I point to a large patch of bare dirt and Gideon hands me a shovel. “This area’s a lot bigger up close. I hope we can dig it up before the funeral ends.”

  “We don’t have to dig it all up.” He hefts his shovel higher onto his shoulder. “First we have to check for signs of disturbance. It’s rained some, which won’t help things. But we should be able to tell if he buried something here in the last couple of days.”

  “Okay.” I examine the area, tiptoeing over the rocks and weeds.

  Gideon sighs and points. “This part looks like it’s been touched.”

  I push my shovel into the soil, and it sinks. “Yeah, this could be it.”

  An hour later, the forest floor is strewn with mountains of earth. Craters are woven amid the peaks, making the area look like a foreign planet. My nostrils and lungs are coated in a fine layer of dirt. But there is no box.

  Gideon taps me on the shoulder. “Cass, we have to get back. Your family thinks you’re in bed. They’ll worry, especially after what happened…”

  “To Melody.” I scan the piles one last time before nodding. “You know what, you go. I’ll handle my family.”

  “No, I’m walking you back. It’ll be dark soon, and you couldn’t even find your way out here in broad daylight.”

  I slap a dirt-coated palm against my thigh. “Fine.” We grab our shovels and speed-walk out the way we came. “I guess I was wrong.” My head hangs as I walk. Gideon puts his free hand on my back, but my muscles tense.

  “It’s okay, Cass. We can check Seth’s place.”

  I wiggle out from under his hand. “I don’t mean wrong about Brandon! I mean I was wrong about where he hid the box.” We breach the edge of the forest and follow the back fence around to the side of my house. “We probably have a few minutes until they get back. Let’s sneak over to his house and try to get into his room. With both of us looking—”

  But I don’t finish my sentence. Something snags our eyes as we round the corner of my house: my family’s gray sedan is parked in the driveway.

  Reclining against hood of the car is Asher, and he doesn’t look pleased.

  16

  �
��What are you two doing?” Asher hisses, moving toward us. The freshly dry-cleaned scent of his black suit mingles with the breeze.

  “I asked her to come with me,” Gideon says. “She was helping me bury my neighbor’s dog. She was old, the dog. And my neighbor. That’s why she needed help.”

  My heart thunders in my chest. Still, my lips threaten to curl. Gideon loves to spin stories, but they’re usually grounded in truth. Listening to this outright lie is bizarrely comical coming from him. Especially since he’s trying it on Asher. I pick at my dirty fingernails.

  “Right.” Asher’s tone is dubious. “But I thought Cass was sick.”

  “I started feeling better, and I wanted to help. That poor lady.” Now I’m practically prying my nails from their beds.

  Asher’s face falls. He knows we’re lying, and he’s hurt. Guilt sloshes in my stomach.

  “Well, I hope you two had fun doing whatever it was you were really doing,” says Asher dryly. My cheeks warm. “Because they buried Melody today, and you missed her service.”

  I’m dizzy. All that digging and walking and lying. “We’re just going to put these shovels away.” I motion to the garage.

  Asher reaches for Gideon’s shovel. “I’ll help with that. You can go home, Gideon,” he says, yanking the handle from his grip.

  “Asher,” Gideon says, “hold on a second.”

  “Go home, Gideon.”

  “Wait a minute.”

  Asher ignores him, turning to me. His brows furrow and he points at the front door. “You know Mom and Dad are in there, right? They may have already walked into your room to check on you. If you come with me right now, I can help you sneak back in there. But if it’s too late, you’re on your own, Cass. I can’t explain to Mom and Dad why you missed Melody’s funeral to be with your boyfriend.”

  I shake my head, hoping I shut my bedroom door after changing clothes. “Keep your voice down.” I can’t leave things with my brother this way. I lob Gideon a helpless look. Before he can stop me, I blurt, “Asher, there’s something you should know.”