Dead Girls Don't Lie

by Jennifer Shaw Wolf

  “How did you know—”

  “It’s my job to keep the people in this town safe. If that means keeping an eye on a known criminal, then that’s what I do.”

  “A known criminal? Eduardo?”

  Sheriff Cross is nodding. “I don’t know if you are aware of the circumstances that brought him and Manuel Romero here, but they weren’t good. I shouldn’t tell you this, because it’s part of an ongoing investigation, but I think you need to know, for your own protection. They were both part of a very dangerous gang in Los Angeles.” He keeps emphasizing the word “dangerous.” “Our office has been working closely with a gang task force in California, keeping tabs on them. I actually spoke to Manuel several times. He was cooperative, willing to ID members of his gang who were involved in a horrific murder. In exchange, we were giving him protection and immunity.

  “But your friend Eduardo didn’t want anything to do with it. He wouldn’t talk to us, and he was pretty upset with Manuel for talking to the police. Said he was betraying his people or something like that.”

  It’s all stuff I knew before, except the part about Eduardo not cooperating, but it sounds like him.

  “But you didn’t do a very good job of protecting Manny,” I dare to challenge him. “Considering he’s dead.”

  Sheriff Cross’s eyebrows knit together in irritation. “We did what we could. We believe that Manuel was killed by someone close to him, someone who he trusted.” He catches my eye in the rearview mirror. “Someone like Eduardo.”

  I see a huge gaping flaw in his story. “If Eduardo killed Manny, why would he stay? Why not just go back to his gang in L.A.?”

  Sheriff Cross’s nostrils flair, but something like a grin appears again. He delivers his death blow. “Because he hadn’t finished the job.” He looks up to see the effect that has on me. “I assume you know about the relationship between Manny and Rachel?” I nod. “We think that Manuel told Rachel everything that was going on, everything he knew, everything he saw. That she wrote it down in some kind of journal. Eduardo spent enough time with Rachel to find out what she knew, and then he killed her too.” He’s not even looking at the road now, just at me, emphasizing everything he says with the seriousness in his face. “He made it look like a drive-by shooting, but it wasn’t. The bullet that killed Rachel was fired at close range. She knew whoever killed her, knew him enough to let him in her bedroom, and Eduardo doesn’t have an alibi for the night Rachel died.”

  All of that sinks in. What if the sheriff is right? What if Eduardo killed Manny and Rachel, but then again, “Why is he still here?”

  Sheriff Cross looks up. “Maybe he thinks there are still loose ends to tie up.”

  Everything inside of me drains out. I told Eduardo that I was there the night Manny died. He asked me to help him find Rachel’s journal.

  Were the guys I heard talking by the fireplace members of Manny and Eduardo’s gang? Are they trying to find out what I know, what Rachel might have written down? And after they do …

  “If you’re so sure it was him, why haven’t you arrested him yet?” My voice comes out small and weak.

  “He’s smart. He won’t let himself get caught doing something illegal.” Sheriff Cross’s eyes glitter at me in the rearview mirror. “But if you know something that we could get him on, then maybe we could hold on to him until we had more.”

  I keep it small. “He’s living in the old house. Trespassing.”

  Eric smiles. “That might help, but I’m not sure it’s enough. I know you think he’s your friend, but that’s just how he works. He’s dangerous, Jaycee. He betrayed Rachel and Manuel. We have to get him off the streets before someone else gets hurt. We need your help.”

  I take a breath, thinking about the gun, and how Eduardo looked when he left. The words rush out. “He has a gun, one that he stole from someone’s house, I don’t know whose.” I close my eyes, praying that I’ve done the right thing.

  “Good girl, Jaycee,” Sheriff Cross says. He opens his door, and I realize that he’s stopped in front of Claire’s house.

  “What are we doing here?” I ask.

  “I heard your dad’s case was held over again in Spokane. He won’t be coming home tonight. With everything you told me, I don’t think you should be alone.” He comes around and opens the door for me. As I get out, something wedged under the backseat catches my eye, a baseball cap with the words LAKE RIDGE HIGH STATE CHAMPS.

  The same hat I saw in the light of the fire on the playground.

  Chapter 31

  “Where have you been, young lady?” Claire smirks at me when she opens the door. “And why did the sheriff drop you off? You trying to add to your Cross collection?”

  I push past her without answering. I need to think about what I just did, and what I just heard. I need to—I stop when I see Skyler sitting on the couch.

  “Oh, did I forget to mention you have a visitor?” Claire says.

  Skyler stands up and crosses the room to me. He looks scared and confused. “Why were you riding in Eric’s cruiser?”

  I want to lean into his arms and sob out the whole story, but I can’t in front of Claire. “What are you doing here?”

  “You didn’t answer your phone, so I came looking for you,” Skyler says. “I’m worried about you, Jaycee. I think you should—”

  “Don’t say it, don’t—” I’ve been through too much today to listen to one more person tell me I’m doing something stupid. Then I look at his face and realize he has his own issues. His lip is split and puffy and there’s a bruise on his chin. I breathe in, shocked. “What happened to you?”

  “Just a dumb fight.” He looks toward Claire, watching us as if she were watching a movie play out in her living room. I realize Skyler probably doesn’t want to talk about it in front of her.

  “Here, let me help you get cleaned up.” I walk him into the bathroom, shut the door behind us, and lock it. Then I turn on the sink. “It was your dad, wasn’t it?”

  He still won’t look at me. I dampen a washcloth and sponge at the blood on his bottom lip. “And it isn’t the first time.”

  He closes his eyes and shakes his head.

  I put my arms around him and lean my forehead against his. “Oh, Skyler.” He closes his eyes, and we breathe together. My heart breaks for him. Why didn’t I see it before?

  The bathroom door rattles. “Claire,” I yell. “Give us a minute.”

  “Jaycee, what’s going on in there?” It’s Claire’s mom.

  “Nothing. I just … need some privacy.”

  The door rattles again. “Is someone in there with you? Claire, who went into the bathroom with Jaycee?”

  I hear voices murmuring outside. I wonder if Claire will cover for me, try to get her mom away from the door or something. It surprises me how little I care. The only thing that matters right now is Skyler. It’s not even that his face looks that bad. It’s his expression. He just looks destroyed.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you into trouble,” he says.

  I gesture to the door. “I don’t care about any of that. I only care about you.”

  He turns away from me, and his lips twist in the kind of grimace that means he’s fighting back tears. “You wouldn’t. Not if you knew who I really am. I’m nothing but a major screwup. I can’t do anything right—not football, not farming; I can’t even keep you safe.” He slams his fist into the bathroom counter, so hard that it makes me jump back.

  “Jaycee, come out of there!” Claire’s mother yells through the door.

  I don’t answer her. Instead I wrap my arms around Skyler’s waist and lean my head on his shoulder. “This is not your fault. None of this is your fault. You just have a jerk for a dad. You’re smart and sweet and—”

  He twists around and stops me with a kiss. His lips are pressed so hard against mine that I’m sure I’m hurting his mouth. He wraps me in his arms. “I love you, Jaycee. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

&nbs
p; “I love you too, Skyler,” I whisper back. It feels right to say it, but the desperation in his voice scares me.

  He pulls away. “No one has ever told me that before. At least, not since Mom …” He swallows. I’m shocked and hurt for him. Wondering if he really means it. He wraps his arms around my waist. “I wish I could be the person you think I am.”

  “But you are, Skyler, you just don’t—”

  The door bursts open, and Claire’s mom stands there looking more triumphant than shocked. “What are you two doing?”

  I untangle myself from Skyler’s embrace. “Mrs. Rallstrom, please.”

  She comes into the bathroom, pushes me aside, and takes Skyler by the arm. “You can’t be here.” Skyler grimaces and pushes her away. I notice fresh cuts along the scars on his wrist. I wonder if his dad did that too.

  Mrs. Rallstrom backs away, shocked, like she just noticed Skyler’s face. “What happened to you?”

  “He got in a fight with one of his brothers, probably over Jaycee,” Claire sings out, filling in the holes that Skyler left with her own version of the story.

  “That’s terrible.” Mrs. Rallstrom steps closer to Skyler. “I’m going to call your dad, let him know what—”

  “No!” Skyler looks terrified.

  “Mrs. Rallstrom, you can’t call his dad.” I take a breath and try to calm down. “If you would just listen—”

  “Don’t.” Skyler grabs my arm and takes me out to the porch. “You can’t tell anyone. Please, Jaycee.”

  “But you need help.”

  “No!” he yells. “I don’t need help. I’m leaving. I can’t take this anymore. I have to get out of this town … I have to—”

  “No, don’t.” The tears that have been threatening all day are back again. “We’ll work it out. My dad can—”

  “Come with me.” He grips my arm harder. “You need to get out of here too. We’ll just start over. I have mo—”

  “She is not going anywhere with you!” Claire’s mom yells, coming toward the door. “Stay right there until I have a chance to call your father.”

  Skyler ignores her. “Jaycee, please. You don’t know everything that’s going on. It’s not safe here for either of—”

  “Jaycee Draper, if you don’t get in this house right now I’ll—”

  “Shut up, okay?” I turn around and yell at Claire’s mom.

  She looks like I slapped her. “Don’t you talk to me that way. When I tell your father what a little—”

  “Why don’t you take care of your own daughter for once instead of getting into everyone else’s business.” I step in front of her and slam the door closed in her dumbfounded face.

  Skyler smiles. “So you’re coming?”

  I shake my head. “I can’t. Not now. I have to—”

  “You don’t have to do anything.”

  I lean over and gently kiss his puffy lip, just as Claire’s mom gets the door open again. “I do. I’m sorry—”

  “I’m sorry too.” He holds me against him and kisses me hard again, ignoring Mrs. Rallstrom’s threats. “I’ll give you time to think about it. When you change your mind, call me.” He slips something out of his pocket and presses it into my hand. “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” I whisper back, the thrill of the words passed between us makes my whole body tingle.

  “See you tonight.” He smiles and backs away. I glance down at the picture in my hand, a smaller version of the one he had in his darkroom. Me, lying in the meadow, wearing a white dress, my eyes closed, smiling like I’m having a good dream.

  “You look—” Taylor starts.

  “Dead,” Claire finishes.

  I had to show someone the picture, so I got it out when the three of us were alone. I’m sitting on Claire’s bed, stuck here for a little longer. I finally convinced Mrs. Rallstrom not to call Skyler’s dad, but she had a long phone call with mine after Skyler left. She wouldn’t let me talk to him. She told me that he’s starting back immediately, but it will be a few hours until he gets here. I’m not eager for that conversation, except I have a few things I need to tell him, like the truth.

  “I was going to say angelic, but ‘dead’ kind of works too. With your hair fanned out like that and your skin all pale, you look like a dead heroine from a tragic poem, Annabel Lee or something like that,” Taylor says. We both look at her. “What? Poe, right? We read it in Lit last year.” We must still look shocked because she adds, “I read it.” She touches my face in the picture. “You have such nice skin. I’m jealous.” I think it’s the first time she’s said anything nice about the way I look.

  “He probably Photoshopped it.” Claire brushes her hair back from her face, showing an orange line of cover-up. It makes me feel better about my pale but clear skin. “You kind of look like a corpse.”

  “I still say angel,” Taylor says.

  “Whatever. Were we going to go to a party at the lake or are we going to hang around and talk about Jaycee’s love life again?” She turns on me, a wicked sneer playing at the corner of her mouth. “Oh wait, I forgot, you’re like grounded for eternity or something.” I think her mom is letting her go out tonight, just to spite me. “Are you in, Taylor?”

  Taylor looks at me for a second and then says, “I don’t have a suit.”

  “You can borrow one of mine. It’ll be only a little tight.” She throws Taylor a wad of strings and then slips her feet into my white sandals. The ones she said looked like they belonged to a little girl. “Since you lost my shoes, I’m taking yours. See you later, Jaycee.”

  As soon as they leave I get a text from Skyler:

  Meet me at your house?

  I don’t know how to answer. I agree that he needs to get away from his dad. I’m just not sure about how he plans to do it. I can’t let him run away by himself, and I can’t go with him. I open up my backpack and touch the roll of film I found in the old house. I had planned to ask Skyler if we could see what was on it, but it will have to wait. Getting Skyler out of here has to be my focus now, at least until he’s safe. Rachel is dead. I can’t do anything to bring her back. And Eduardo … I don’t know if Sheriff Cross was telling the truth or not, but maybe it’s time I let someone who knows more than I do try to sort him out. I’m not sure there was ever anything I could have done for him.

  My phone buzzes again.

  Come. I don’t think I can live without you.

  Somehow, I have to get out of this house tonight and convince Skyler to stay long enough so I can help him. Dad is going to be off-the-wall mad when he gets back, but he’ll still help Skyler once I explain things to him. I know he will.

  I text: I’ll be there as soon as Claire’s mom falls asleep. I’ll call u when I get there.

  I listen to the house around me. Somewhere downstairs the television is going. I wonder how long it will be until Claire’s mom falls asleep. I open the blinds and stare down the road toward my house. There’s a lot of darkness between me and it.

  Skyler answers: You’re my angel. I love u.

  I pick up the picture he took of me again. He wrote the same thing at the bottom of this picture, “My angel.” I’m tired of waiting and worrying; I just need to get out of here. I pull my running shoes out of my bag and sling my backpack over my shoulder. Whether Claire’s mom is asleep or not, I have to go meet him right now.

  Chapter 32

  I slip my phone into my pocket, creep down the stairs, and head for the back door, the one I’ve snuck out of twice now, but never by myself. The TV drones on. No one comes out to see where I’m going. I pass silently through the back fence and to the dark alley where Evan and the other guys were hiding last time. I stop and listen—no footsteps but mine.

  I cross behind Claire’s house, down the empty road toward home, trying to ignore the darkness pressing in behind me. The urge to move faster, either home or back to Claire’s house, is almost overwhelming. I break into a jog and then I run. I don’t stop until I get to my house.

&nbs
p; I grip my keys and walk up the stairs, but when I reach for the door I realize it’s already open, just a crack. Did I forget to shut it tight when I left? Is Dad home?

  Then I smell it. Spray paint fumes. Nausea hits me so hard that I have to lean on the windowsill for support.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” someone hisses in my ear at the same time he clamps his hand over my mouth, cutting off my scream. I struggle, but he picks me up and drags me off the steps, around the side of the house, below my bedroom window.

  “Shhh, boba, it’s me. Shhh.” Eduardo says it like that should comfort me, like I should trust him, but my instinct is to bite him hard, scream, and run.

  Before I can, voices float through my window. “Snooping little bitch. What do you think she knows?” I freeze and press into Eduardo, this time for protection. He doesn’t loosen his grip, but he takes his hand off my mouth.

  “Shut up and finish what we came to do.” I strain to recognize either of the voices, but I can’t, they’re too muffled. “I’m almost done.” A hissing sound comes through the door and the smell of paint cuts the air, the same smell as the night Manny died.

  “If this doesn’t stop her—”

  “After this there’s no way she’ll keep looking.” Panic seizes my chest. What are they doing in my bedroom? What if Dad gets home, what will they do to him?

  “She turned in that Mexican kid today, said he had a gun.” Eduardo’s grip tightens around my waist. “And after tonight, when everyone sees this, she’ll be sure it was him. Eric said—”

  “No names!” the first voice says. “What if someone hears you?”

  “But if she doesn’t buy it, if she keeps looking?”

  “He said he’d take care of her.” Everything inside me turns cold.

  The window squeaks as they push it open. In a heartbeat Eduardo is moving again, carrying me, dragging me, but this time I don’t resist. He pulls me behind the bushes, and I curl up in a ball next to him and try to make myself invisible in the shadows.

  One dark figure and then two jump out of my bedroom window. Their faces are covered with black paint, but I know who it is. Mitch and Peyton. More hissing, more paint fumes. I swallow at the bile that keeps trying to come up. They’re painting the same symbols that were all over Rachel’s door on the outside wall of my house. Eduardo grips something hard against his side. Without looking down, I know he has the gun. I stay breathless and still, more scared than I’ve ever been in my life, huddled against Eduardo and his weapon, not sure I trust either of them to keep me safe.