The Lonely Dead

by April Henry

  And then he closes the door. But he doesn’t slam it. He shuts it very gently, his eyes never leaving my face.

  I’m shaking as I walk back out toward the street.

  “Adele?” a voice says. “What are you doing here?”

  It’s Mrs. Rasmussen, about to get into her silver Tesla. She is still dressed in black, although the funeral was yesterday. Her face is not particularly friendly.

  “I was just talking to Mr. Conner.”

  “Why?”

  “I was wondering if he had talked to Tori that night.”

  After a long pause, a laugh spurts out of her. “Oh my God. Are you feeling guilty? Is that it? Just stay the hell out of this, Adele. Leave the sleuthing to the police. I can’t believe you dared to show your face around here. Of course, you’re the same girl who came to my Tori’s funeral yesterday crying crocodile tears. Since then, I’ve learned the truth. The last thing you did before she died was to throw yourself at her boyfriend. You’re nothing but a Judas.”

  Judas kissed Jesus to identify him to the soldiers. That was a different kind of kiss, but I guess it was just as much a betrayal.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Rasmussen. I made a mistake. I told Tori I was sorry for it, and I was. I just want to make sure the police are looking in the right places. And Tori told me Mr. Conner used to watch her when she sunbathed.”

  “What?” This at least seems to get through to Mrs. Rasmussen. She looks over her shoulder at his house.

  I’m pretty sure whatever relationship I had with Tori’s mom is irretrievably broken, so I just spill the rest of it. “Tori also told me that your husband had pushed her when he was angry at her. Even held her down. And I know he was mad when he came home early and discovered the party.”

  “Frank?” she says. I hear the hesitation in her voice, but then she steels herself. “Get out of here. Now. Or I’m calling the police and telling them you’re stalking us. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

  MONDAY, DECEMBER 3, 7:55 A.M.

  FIGHT

  Without my laptop, I have no way to listen to the recordings I made with the spy pen. Today at lunch I’ll use one of the computers in the school library to review them. My conversation with Mr. Conner chilled me. It’s clear there’s something wrong with him—but wrong enough that he would kill a girl?

  I also can’t forget the venom in Mrs. Rasmussen’s voice. Or the hesitation when she said her husband’s name.

  But so far I don’t have anything to prove—or disprove—that either of them did it.

  My plan is to talk to Mr. Hardy before classes start. What if Tori called him the night of the party? Earlier she had been crying in her bedroom, feeling unloved, saying she couldn’t tell the truth about things. What if after kicking me out and breaking up with Luke, after the dirty dancing and the shots, she decided to demand love and/or truth from Thomas Hardy?

  For him, Tori was a ticking time bomb. If she had ever told the truth about their relationship, he would have been at risk of losing everything.

  The minute I get on the bus, I know things are going to be bad. Even though I’m careful to stay close to the bus driver and the adult commuters, behind me I hear Aspen muttering my name. When the bus pulls up at school and I start down the stairs, someone shoves me from behind. I stumble forward, but when I finally right myself and turn around, all I see are unsmiling faces. It could have been Aspen or any one of a half dozen people. Even Marnie bares her teeth at me. I turn and hurry away.

  School doesn’t start for another twenty minutes. As I walk down the hall toward Mr. Hardy’s room, people turn to watch me. I’m just thankful no one says anything.

  Checking to make sure the pen is still clipped to the front of my backpack, I step inside Mr. Hardy’s classroom and close the door behind me. I’m in luck. We’re alone. But should I need them, there are a hundred witnesses just a few feet away.

  He pastes a smile on his tired face. “Oh, hello, Adele. Did you need help with something?”

  I jump in with both feet. “I think maybe you’re the one who needs help.”

  The smile disappears. “What are you talking about?”

  “Why weren’t you at Tori’s visitation or funeral?”

  His mouth opens, but there’s a pause before he finds words. Meanwhile, his fingers slide up and down the narrow fabric strap of his lanyard. “Of course, the death of any student is a tragedy, but I’m afraid I already had plans.”

  I want to keep him off-balance. “And you didn’t think it was important to change your plans? Even though you and Tori were so … close?”

  He shuts his eyes as if he’s just heard some bad news. But when he opens them again, any trace of friendliness is gone. “What are you saying, Adele?”

  “Tori told me about you. About you two.” Waiting for him to fill in the blank, I wish I had pressed Tori for specifics.

  He takes a step closer, close enough that if he leaned forward he could kiss me. Instead he says in a low voice, “Tori was my student. Nothing more. And if I were you, I would be very careful about spreading rumors. You, of all people, should know how dangerous they are.” He reaches around me and opens the door. “Now get out.”

  Not knowing what else to do, I leave. I don’t know any more than I did before. I think Mr. Hardy could have done it. But did he?

  “Hey, Adele, can I ask you something?” Jazzmin says before I open my locker. Ethan’s right behind her, his hand on the small of her back. They must have made up.

  “Uh, sure.”

  “Why’d the police take you away Saturday?”

  “They just wanted to talk to me some more,” I say. “Because I was at the party.”

  Looking over her shoulder, she raises her eyebrows at Ethan before turning back to me. “We were all at the party. But you’re the only person they wanted to interview again after the funeral.”

  A crowd is starting to form around us. And it’s getting bigger by the second.

  Petra pushes through until she’s standing right in front of me. “You’ve been jealous of Tori for years. You may have been friends back when you were little, but as she got older, she got smarter and realized she didn’t need you. And you couldn’t stand that she left you behind.”

  “Could Adele have done it?” a girl says behind me. It sounds like Brianna Clark.

  “She’s certainly big enough.” I recognize Dylan’s voice. “She’s gotta be twice as big as Tori.”

  “Come on, you guys, stop it!” Charlie shouts from the edge of the crowd. “Leave her alone!” No one pays any attention. Instead of trying to get closer to help me, Charlie turns and leaves, pushing in between people.

  “Did you see her at Tori’s funeral?” Aspen asks the crowd. “She was smiling. Smiling!” She turns to me. “We all know what must have happened the night of the party. You tried to take Luke away from Tori, and then when she called you out on it, you killed her.” Spittle flecks my face when she speaks.

  “No, I didn’t.” My voice shakes. “I left. That’s it. I left, and I went straight home.”

  Laquanda is at the edge of the crowd, her hand over her mouth.

  “You killed her,” Aspen repeats. “Everyone knows it. The police know it. That’s why they took you in for questioning.”

  “Just stop.” My voice breaks. “Please stop.”

  Petra gets even closer. “Why didn’t you just kill yourself instead? Instead of killing my best friend! And then you acted all sad at the viewing, but the next day you were laughing.”

  She gives me a two-handed push on the shoulders. I stagger back until I crash into the bank of lockers. Then I hear Luke yelling, “No! You guys. No!” And suddenly he’s in front of me, putting his body between me and the two girls and the eager crowd behind them. “Come on,” Luke appeals. “Leave her alone.”

  It doesn’t work. Petra throws something at me. A pencil. It bounces off my head and lands on the floor.

  “I can’t believe you’d cheat on Tori with her!” Murphy ye
lls.

  His face a mask, Luke swings at Murphy, but Murphy ducks out of the way, and the punch grazes the side of Justin’s head. With a grunt, Justin throws a punch at Luke, but Luke twists so that Justin’s fist lands harmlessly on his shoulder. Then Luke hits him square in the nose. Justin staggers back, blood slicking his upper lip.

  Aspen grabs my wrist and yanks. Her other hand is raised to slap me.

  I swear and push her away. Her foot lands on the pencil and keeps moving. Suddenly Aspen’s falling. And then she’s screaming. Sitting on the floor and cradling her left arm, which bends twice, once at her elbow and then a smaller bend between her elbow and her wrist. It’s clearly broken.

  She looks up at me. “What did you do? Oh my God, Adele, what did you just do?”

  A whistle cuts through the noise. I look up to see Ms. Chaudry pull her fingers from between her lips. Charlie is standing beside her.

  She manages to project her voice above the babble. “This will stop right now, or you will all be suspended. You must disperse immediately.”

  In front of her, Officer Werdling is wading through the crowd. His flashlight is in his hand, and he’s using it like a baton. He’s coming straight toward us. Me and Luke.

  Twenty minutes later, the two of us are sitting in front of Chaudry’s desk. Werdling is standing behind her, his arms crossed. The nurse checked us out and pronounced us okay, with the exception of some welts and scratches. Now she’s in her office putting a temporary splint on Aspen’s arm before she gets taken to the hospital to be checked out.

  “I am shocked at your behavior, Adele.” Chaudry shakes her head. “You’ve never caused any problems before.”

  That’s an understatement. If I were still taking the pills, a potato would be more likely to cause problems.

  “What was this fight about?”

  “Tori and I argued the night she was killed.” I’m not going to mention the kissing. “People have decided that makes me a suspect.”

  “Yeah,” Werdling says. “The police got a warrant yesterday to search your locker.”

  I stiffen. His words shouldn’t be a surprise, but they are.

  The principal folds her hands. “Tensions are running very high at Wilson right now. A lot of it is targeted at you, rightly or wrongly.”

  “Rightly or wrongly! I didn’t kill Tori.”

  “I didn’t say you did.” Chaudry presses her fingertips together. “I only meant there’s talk that Tori found the two of you in a compromising position on Saturday. People are angry on her behalf.” She looks from Luke to me and then back at Luke again. Her brows draw together. I can tell she’s trying to figure it out. The two of us don’t go together. We’re like characters from two different movies. His is a musical, all bright colors, and mine is something dour and Swedish, shot in black-and-white.

  “This school has a zero-tolerance policy for violence,” she continues. “That policy requires mandatory suspensions in cases like this.”

  “But I didn’t start it,” I protest. “Everyone was yelling at me and calling me names, and then they began throwing things at me and pushing me.”

  “Yelling is words. Nothing more. As for the pushing, I didn’t say you were the only ones who will be disciplined. We will be interviewing other students.”

  Werdling breaks in. “I definitely saw the two of you fighting.” He points at Luke. “It looks like you broke Justin’s nose!” His finger moves to me. “And you broke Aspen’s arm.”

  “I didn’t break her arm! She grabbed me. And then she slipped on a pencil someone threw at me. That’s not my fault.”

  Hidden by the desk, Luke puts his hand on my knee for a second. I go still, and then realize he meant me to. Shooting me a sidelong glance, he presses his lips together, signaling I should shut up. Then he releases my knee.

  I realize he’s not arguing back. And that I’m probably not doing myself any favors.

  “That may be true, but both of your actions have had an adverse impact on our school community,” Chaudry says. “You kept other students from learning, you used profane language, and you fought.”

  We both sit in silence. I try my best to look sorry.

  “Adele, you have no disciplinary record, unlike Luke.”

  I glance at him, but he keeps his eyes on the principal, his face betraying nothing.

  “Luke, we all understand that Tori was your girlfriend and that your emotions are understandably heightened. Given that, I am going to make a one-time exception to the suspension protocol for causing bodily injury.” She takes a deep breath. “Luke, you are suspended for three days. For you, Adele, it will be five.”

  MONDAY, DECEMBER 3, 9:26 A.M.

  ALL MY SECRETS

  Tears spring to my eyes. I blink them away, hoping neither Chaudry nor Werdling notices. Not tears of self-pity, but of anger. I didn’t start the fight, but I’m the one being punished. And Luke is in trouble just for trying to help me.

  “What about homework?” I ask. “How am I supposed to keep up with my assignments?”

  “We’ll email them to you,” Chaudry says. “Right now, Officer Werdling will escort you to your lockers to collect your books and belongings, and then off campus. We’ve notified your mother, Luke, and your grandfather, Adele, but neither of them can leave work. They both want you to go straight home.”

  To my relief, class is still in session when we leave the office. When I open my locker, everything’s been rifled through. It’s a fresh reminder that I’m the main suspect. Will I ever be back here? Or will I end up in juvie or jail?

  At Luke’s locker, a picture of Tori is taped on the inside of the door. She wears a low-cut turquoise blouse that sets off her coloring and her cleavage. A pink piece of paper in the shape of a cartoon speech bubble next to her mouth says, “Love ya so much!!!”

  Luke doesn’t appear to even glance at it as he shoves books into his backpack, but the photo is all I can look at. When Tori posed for it, she had no idea she would soon be dead. The loss of her suddenly seems obscene.

  “All right,” Werdling says. “I’ll escort you two as far as the sidewalk. Remember that neither of you is allowed to set foot on campus until your suspension is up.”

  “I drove here, and my car’s in the parking lot,” Luke says. “So I actually need to go there.”

  Before Werdling speaks, he adjusts his duty belt—with his gun on one side and Taser on the other—as if to remind us that he’s the one who’s calling the shots. “We’ll walk Adele out first and then go back for your car.”

  Luke looks at me. “What about if I give you a ride home, Adele?”

  Werdling glowers. It’s clear he doesn’t like the idea. But once we’re off school property, he can’t tell us what to do.

  “I’d appreciate that.” I’m barely holding it together. The idea of getting on the bus or walking the more than two miles home is almost too much.

  Luke’s car is a maroon Outback. The passenger seat is littered with Burgerville wrappers, parking receipts, a charging cord, and a couple of empty Starbucks cups. “Sorry about the mess,” Luke says, shoveling it into the back seat, where it joins his backpack.

  “It’s okay.” I slide into the seat and put my backpack on my lap.

  We drive past Werdling, who watches us with his hands on his hips.

  “You’re lucky you still have your car,” I say. “They took my grandpa’s truck to look for evidence. I guess they’re thinking I could have used it to move Tori’s body.”

  “That old puppy nose truck? I’ve seen him drop you off in it. It’s a classic.” Luke sighs. “The police have talked to me twice, but they must figure it’s not worth taking my car. I mean, Tori’s in here all the time. Finding her DNA or fingerprints or whatever wouldn’t tell them anything.”

  “The police can’t even tell my grandpa when he’s going to get it back. Now he’s going to have to take the bus to work, and that takes nearly an hour longer each way. Plus, my grandpa loves that truck.” Without warn
ing, I burst into tears.

  Hastily, Luke pulls over. “Adele, are you okay?”

  “Everyone thinks I did it. The police. People at school. They all think I killed her.” I drop my head into my hands.

  He pats my shoulder awkwardly. “Actually, I’m pretty sure the police think I did it.”

  I lift my face. “You? Why?”

  He bites his lip. “Who kills girls and women?” He answers his own question. “Boyfriends, husbands. Ex-boyfriends and ex-husbands. Not other girls. I’m a much better suspect than you are. And they keep asking me exactly where I went after Tori made me leave. The truth is I just drove around. But that sounds bad. Like I’m lying.” He offers me a sad smile. “Maybe I should have lied.”

  I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’ve never apologized to you.” I look out the window because I can’t meet his eyes.

  “For what?”

  “For, um, kissing you in Tori’s closet?” My face burns.

  “It’s okay. Don’t think about it.”

  I’m desperate to explain how what happened wasn’t really my fault. “Have you taken health class yet?”

  “No. Next term.”

  “I guess you can black out when you drink too much, too fast. Like I did at the party.”

  “You were really putting them back,” he agrees. I shoot a glance at him, and he gives me a wry smile.

  “And I never drink. Which is why I did something so stupid.” I make myself say the worst of it. “My memory of the rest of that night is kind of spotty.”

  “You didn’t seem like yourself that night.” Luke swallows. “Do you remember telling everyone that really dirty joke?”

  “What? No.”

  “Or putting your hand up under my T-shirt when we were in the closet?”

  “I did?” I can’t read his expression.

  “I was like—whoa, Adele.” He doesn’t sound unhappy.