“I haven’t heard anything from my mom about why GPD was there.” She wasn’t home when I got in last night and I didn’t see her that morning either, which meant she must have stayed the night at the station. She did send me a text in the morning reminding me to put the trash cans by the road, which I did.
“Not that, Charlie.” Dare rolled his head and picked at a piece of flaking vinyl on the center console. “You know….”
“Oh.” He meant our kiss. I hadn’t expected him to bring it up at all. “It was… a surprise. A nice one, though. Really nice.” I stared at the steering wheel, worried he might see the raw desire right there on my face. Stake out or make out?
“It was nice.” He smiled faintly. “You know the only reason I asked you to hold that door in Phantom was because I had a crush on you?”
My head swiveled in his direction; the boy was full of surprises. He glanced up and seemed a little embarrassed by it. “I mean, we probably could have rigged something up.”
My jaw dropped. Literally. “I thought I was providing a valuable service to the theater.”
Dare laughed. “You were, Charlie. Most definitely. You probably don’t know this, but I tasked the entire drama department with finding out if you were straight or not, but no one could pin you down.”
I recalled some of the pointed conversations I’d had with Dare’s friends, and more than a couple of the female cast members who’d tried to make a move on me. I thought their flirtations were just part of their love-in culture. “You could have just asked me. Since when are you so shy, Dare?”
He hid his smile behind his hand. “I mean, I’m not shy, but I’m not an idiot either.”
“You should have made a move.” I smiled at him. What a nice surprise that would have been.
“I was going to ask you out at the cast party at Aaron’s, but you never showed.”
“I was there.” I took a deep breath. A bit of honesty was in order. “I was too nervous to talk to you, so I basically hid in a closet all night.”
“You what?” He looked shocked and dismayed.
“Yeah, then I went out and bought the Phantom soundtrack because I had this huge crush on you too.” I paused and then figured, why not? “And if we’re being honest, it didn’t start last spring.”
His eyebrows rose into another stratosphere.
“And then the SAT thing with Mason happened,” I continued. After that, Dare would say hello to me in the halls, but not much else. “That kind of derailed everything.”
He looked down at his hands. “I wasn’t mad at you, but I had to take Mason’s side.”
I nodded. “I understand.”
He sighed and glanced up at the empty road before us. “So these feelings of yours….” He licked his lips, then bit down on the lower one. So tempting. “Are they past or present tense?”
I reached for his hand. “Both.”
He smiled and pressed my knuckles to his lips. Then he dropped it back into his lap with a deep sigh. “I like you, Charlie. A lot. And that kiss last night was amazing. But I’m pretty messed up right now.”
People did strange things when they were in mourning. I punched a classmate in the face. Dare kissed me on the mouth, with tongue. “You’re grieving.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it again.”
“Okay.” This was getting confusing.
“What I mean is, maybe we could take it slow?” There was that shy smile again, one that revealed Dare to have a bashful tenderness hidden beneath all that center-stage swagger.
Here was the simple truth. When Dare approached me months ago and sold me on the idea of holding a door shut for the spring musical, I didn’t need much convincing. When Dare asked me earlier that week to help find his brother’s killer, I didn’t hesitate. Now Dare was asking me to be patient so we could see if there might be something between us on the other end of this horror show, and of course, I would honor his request. Gladly.
I squeezed his hand. “It was a really nice kiss, and I’m glad you did it. Now I can at least say I’ve made it to first base. But we don’t need to stress about that right now. We have to stay focused.”
Dare nodded, still looking conflicted. “I just didn’t want you to think—”
I glanced up as a car came into view. I hadn’t even heard it coming. Dare missed the license plate, but I recognized the car immediately. A blue Prius with a collage of activist bumper stickers, one of which said Save Our Springs in a retro seventies font.
“Ms. Sparrow,” I muttered.
As Dare tried to glimpse the driver through the rear window with his binoculars, I started the engine, intent on following Ms. Sparrow to whatever destination she was headed.
“What’s she doing out here?” Dare asked, his eyes focused on the back of her car as he recorded the license plate number. We followed at a safe distance until we saw her turn off onto a dirt road with pines crowding in on either side.
“That must be her house.” Sparrow wasn’t one of the names that came up on the property appraiser’s search, so either she rented or owned property under a different name or she was living with someone else. “What should we do?” I asked Dare. We were idling at the end of her driveway.
“Let’s talk to her,” Dare said severely.
“Maybe we should wait until Monday. It feels weird going to a teacher’s home.”
“We can’t wait, Charlie. Besides, I’ll bet you anything Mason’s been here.”
I didn’t know what he was basing his assumption on, but I agreed we couldn’t afford to wait until Monday. “What if she has a big angry boyfriend? Or a big angry dog. Or a gun.”
“I’m not scared of any of those things,” he said. “Just let me do the talking.”
I drove farther up the driveway, where there was another car parked—a battered old Nissan pickup truck. Jealous boyfriend, perhaps? I turned the car around so we were facing the road in case we needed to make a speedy exit. Without waiting for me to catch up, Dare marched up to the screen door and rapped hard on the flimsy aluminum. No one came to the door, so he shouted, “We know you’re in there, Ms. Sparrow, and we know what you’ve been doing with my brother.”
Not the approach I would have taken. Dare was bluffing—we had no idea what, if anything, she might have been doing with Mason—but it must’ve spooked her, because Ms. Sparrow opened the door soon after.
“What are you boys doing here?” she asked with a big, fake smile. I’d never in my life seen Ms. Sparrow grin with so much ferocity.
I glanced around at our surroundings. The place was pretty secluded, with the nearest neighbors a couple of forested acres away. It was possible Mason’s murder could have been committed at the lake and his body brought here, though if that was the case, I doubted Ms. Sparrow had the physical strength to do it alone.
Unless she dismembered his body first.
I spotted a pile of firewood stacked at the other end of the front porch. I remembered my mother making the motion with her hand of one fast, hard chop. Like an axe or a shovel, both of which Ms. Sparrow would have experience using.
“We have some questions to ask you,” I said to her. “Perhaps we could take this inside?”
Ms. Sparrow hesitated, then held open the door and showed us to a couch and matching love seat the color of mud. Dare perched on the edge of the love seat, and I took the spot next to him. I wanted to keep him close. Ms. Sparrow’s house had a similar smell as her classroom—an earthy, incense-infused aroma—and it was decorated with a lot of artifacts from the natural world—sticks and crystals and hand-woven art. I bet if I looked hard enough I’d find a bong or hookah somewhere around here. Also known as the Berkley of Florida, Gainesville had a reputation for its proliferation of pot smoking. My mom had worked for a while in food service before joining GPD, and people would often try to pay for their meals with marijuana. It usually worked too, because Gainesville green was pretty widely accepted as currency. Of course, once Mom became a cop, t
hose offers dropped off significantly.
But even though Ms. Sparrow was pretty young and fairly hip, it was still weird being in a teacher’s house. I didn’t really care to think about them having lives outside of Eastview High, and I didn’t want to imagine Ms. Sparrow smoking pot or dancing naked around a fire, which was another ritual you’d often stumble across at a Gainesville party, especially when dealing with the kids from the massage school, according to my mother.
“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked pleasantly, playing hostess—or more likely, getting her lies in order. “Lemonade? Water?”
“I’ll take a Dr Pepper,” Dare said. Ms. Sparrow squinted at him and seemed thrown off by that request.
“I’m afraid I don’t keep soda in the house,” she said slowly, measuring her words. “Processed sugar is bad for your health.”
“Are you sure?” Dare asked with a sneer. “That’s Mason’s favorite.”
Ms. Sparrow sat down on the edge of the couch and pressed her lips together in a tight seam. “I know you’re upset about your brother’s death, Dare, but I’m not sure what I can do for you.”
Dare stood suddenly and stalked through the small living room as if looking for proof of his brother’s presence. His crooked gait was more pronounced in his agitated state, and I debated on whether to take over this interrogation. I didn’t think Dare could be level-headed about it.
“Mason’s truck was found not far from here,” I told Ms. Sparrow. “So was his… body. He had no reason to come out this way unless it was to visit someone.”
“Visit you,” Dare accused.
“I’m sorry, but there seems to be a misunderstanding.” Ms. Sparrow collected her courage as she stood. “I think you boys should leave.”
Dare studied Ms. Sparrow a little closer. I didn’t understand what he was looking at so intently until he whipped out his phone and snapped a picture.
“My brother gave you that.” He pointed to the pendant around her neck.
“What?” Her hand fluttered to her amber-colored necklace. “That’s ridiculous. I bought this myself.”
“Where’d you buy it?” Dare asked.
“I….” She trailed off.
“My cousin works at the herbarium. She takes samples from plant cuttings and encases them in resin. I recognize that necklace because my mother has one just like it, and if you don’t tell us what the hell is going on, my next stop is GPD to tell them you murdered my brother.”
Ms. Sparrow collapsed into the couch. Her lower lip quivered, and even though she didn’t cry, her face had a melty look about it. She was obviously lying to us, but I still felt a little bad for her. Dare seemed entirely unmoved.
“Speak,” he commanded and gestured forcefully with his hand as though he could summon her confession by his will alone.
She glanced at me as though I could help her out of this situation. I only shrugged. As my mom was fond of saying, Ms. Sparrow had made her bed; now she had to lie in it.
“He was supposed to come over Friday night, but he never made it here. I swear I’d never hurt him.”
“You were having an affair?” I asked.
She nodded. “Stupid. It was so stupid of me.”
“Did you kill him?” Dare asked. “Because you were worried he’d tell someone?”
“No, of course not. He didn’t want anyone to know about it either. It was just….” She shook her head miserably and wouldn’t look at us. “It was a mistake.”
“You have no alibi,” Dare said. It sounded like a threat. His demeanor completely shifted when he thought someone had wronged Mason. He was cold and precise. Like a scalpel.
“I was here all night watching television,” Ms. Sparrow said, wide-eyed. “There’s a camera aimed at my front gate. Its footage is kept off-site. I’m sure they have it.”
I asked her the name of the security company and made a note on my phone to follow up. Still, there was a hole in her story. “When did you and Mason make plans to meet?”
“Around 5:30 in the afternoon? I was….” She looked away. “It was Friday night. I was lonely.”
“You called him out of wrestling practice?” I asked.
“No, of course not. We spoke by phone.”
“What phone?”
“His cell.”
I studied her. She didn’t seem to be lying, and it fit with the timeline Daniela had given me, which meant Mason must have had a second phone. “Give me the number.” She went to her purse, pulled out her phone, and scrolled through her contacts until she found the one labeled MC. Mason Chalmers. I took down the number.
“You won’t tell anyone about this, will you?” She was asking Dare, not me.
Dare glared at her with no compassion whatsoever. “If you hadn’t called my brother out here Friday night, he would have met me at Waffle Kingdom like he promised. And if he’d done that, he might still be alive right now. So I wouldn’t be asking me for any favors.”
“I’m so sorry, Dare,” she said, sniffling. “He was a very special young man.”
“You don’t know anything about him,” Dare snapped and stormed out of her house, slamming the screen door behind him. I mumbled a hurried goodbye to Ms. Sparrow and followed him out. Dare strode over to a pine tree and kicked it, chipping away at the flaky bark. I waited by the car to give him a minute to cool off. Even though he was furious, I considered it a breakthrough.
This information was the leverage I needed to make a deal with my mother.
Chapter 13
I GOT home that afternoon before my mom and cooked burgers on the charcoal grill outside. I gave one of the cooked patties to Boots because he was a very good boy. Then I threw a stick with him so he could work off the extra calories. Mom was right; he was getting a bit pudgy around the middle.
Mom arrived home when I was toasting the buns.
“What’s this?” she asked. “You cooked dinner without being asked?”
“We haven’t seen much of each other lately, and I wanted to catch up.” That was true, even if it also meant catching up on the investigation.
“What a wonderful son you are.” She kissed my cheek.
Mom asked me about my classes and upcoming tests, and I answered her questions adequately. When we were deep into a case, it was hard to focus on school. Priorities, I supposed.
After we ate, Mom helped clear the table and even offered to wash dishes. I told her I’d do it, but first I wanted to talk to her about something. We sat across from each other at the kitchen table. Her eyebrows lifted a little. She knew something was up.
“I’ve been doing a little digging,” I began.
“Charlie,” she groaned. “I don’t want to hear anymore. You are not working on this case.”
Her saying it didn’t make it true. She started to stand, and I didn’t want her to dismiss me so easily, so I went ahead and dropped a bomb.
“Mason was having an affair with a teacher.”
She sat back down with a deep sigh of resignation and studied me. “How on earth do you know this?”
“Like I said, I’ve been doing some digging.”
“You have proof?”
“The teacher confessed it to me.” I didn’t mention Dare was also with me when that confession occurred.
My mother was working it over in her mind, debating as to how relevant this was to her investigation and whether she could use this information she’d told me not to get. I decided to sweeten the pot. “They were communicating on a second phone.”
Mom placed her palms flat on the table as though willing herself to be calm.
“Are you going to tell me who it is?” she asked. “Or are you going to make me guess?”
“I want to see the surveillance tapes of the high school parking lot from the night Mason went missing.”
Her mouth dropped open in dismay. “That’s not fair, Charlie. Do you realize I could lose my job if I showed those to you? And compromise the entire investigation?”
“I want to solve this case just as much as you, Mom. My intentions are pure.”
She blew out her breath. “If that was true, you wouldn’t be blackmailing me.”
“This is a bribe, not blackmail.” That word got thrown around way too liberally, and she of all people should recognize the difference.
She walked over to the kitchen sink and stared out the window. “You clearly have no regard for my feelings anymore,” she said, laying on the guilt thicker than peanut butter on a dog treat.
“Of course I care about your feelings. I told you I had an inside track, and now it’s proven useful. I know you’re trying to protect me, but I’m committed to solving this case.”
“And what if something happens to you? I can’t lose you both, Charlie. Have you thought about what that would do to me?”
Even though I knew she wasn’t lying, it didn’t seem fair to bring my dad into it and make me feel guilty for doing something I’d been trained by her to do. It was like throwing a stick and telling Boots not to fetch it.
“I just want to look at the tapes. I’m not about to make a citizen’s arrest or anything. And if there’s anything I discover from watching them, I’ll tell you. Like I always do.”
She glared at me for another second, then strode out of the room, her low heels clicking on the linoleum like an insect’s wings. I thought perhaps she was going to ground me, but a minute later she returned with her laptop, already open to the video. She used her remote to push Play and stood behind me while we watched the footage together.
There were two cameras set up at our school, one for the student parking lot and one for the faculty. The footage played side by side on her screen. The student parking lot camera only offered a clear shot of the front passenger side of Mason’s truck, which was parked next to Daniela’s Kia, and closer to the camera were Dare’s Jag and Peter’s Impala. In the faculty parking lot, I identified Coach Gundry’s champagne-colored LeBaron convertible and Ms. Sparrow’s blue Prius. My car was parked in BFE where no one cared enough to monitor with a camera. I recalled seeing Joey’s Jeep there as well from time to time. He often arrived to school late, when all the other spots were filled.
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