When

by Victoria Laurie

  An involuntary squeak bubbled up from my throat, and Donny’s hand clamped down on my wrist again. “We’re going,” he said, half lifting me out of my chair.

  But Faraday wasn’t done with us quite yet. Quick as a flash, he took out a folded piece of paper from inside his coat pocket and snapped it open right in front of Donny.

  Donny paused when he saw the paper—it looked official. Snatching it out of Faraday’s hand, he started to read it.

  “We’ve served out a search warrant,” Faraday said casually, and from the box came something else that froze me in place and turned my cold blood to ice. “This we found hidden in Maddie’s nightstand,” he said, holding up my deathdate notebook and wiggling it back and forth. “It makes for really interesting reading, if you like names and dates. So many names and dates, Madelyn.”

  My breath started to come in short little pants, and the world began to spin.

  “Here’s a name and a date that’s pretty interesting,” Faraday said, thumbing to one of the last pages. “Tevon Tibbolt, ten twenty-nine, two thousand fourteen.”

  Donny’s face drained of color, and he looked at me with a mixture of shock and horror. I’d never told him I kept the notebook. I’d never told anybody. Well, except Stubby.

  Faraday flipped the page. “And here, in one of the last entries, we have the name Payton Wyly. Next to that is the date eleven twelve, twenty fourteen.”

  For a long moment nobody spoke. Faraday continued to thumb through my notebook while Donny clenched and unclenched his jaw. Finally, he said, “Is my niece under arrest?”

  My knees threatened to give out from underneath me, but Donny held my arm firmly, supporting me. Faraday took his time answering, but finally he said, “Not yet, Fynn. But soon.” Switching his focus back to me he added, “Don’t leave town, Madelyn.”

  Donny moved me toward the door, but Faraday stuck his leg out, blocking us. “The warrant extends to her phone,” he said, his voice hard as steel.

  I looked at Donny, who eyed the search warrant in his hand and nodded for me to comply. With trembling fingers I removed my phone from my pocket and set it gently on the table. I tried to think what texts might be on the phone that could incriminate me, but my mind was a jumble of panicked thoughts, and I couldn’t remember.

  We exited the room, and Donny held on to me the whole way. “Look straight ahead,” he whispered as he moved us steadily down the hallway. As we were nearing the exit, though, from around a corner came Agent Wallace and another agent, and between them was Stubby, his arms bound behind him.

  “Say nothing!” Donny whispered harshly into my ear.

  I was so stunned to see Stubs handcuffed and being escorted by two agents that I was at a loss for words anyway. But Stubby lifted his chin when he saw me. His looked terrified. “Maddie!” he cried out. “Tell them! Tell them it wasn’t me!”

  A sob formed in my throat, and as we passed each other I tried to reach out to him, but Wallace glared and blocked me with his body while Donny pulled on my arm to keep me away, but then he leaned over and said to Stubby, “Do you want my help?” Stubby nodded desperately, and Donny said, “Don’t say a word until I get back, Arnold; do you understand?” And then to Wallace he said, “Mr. Schroder is now represented by counsel. You cannot interview him until I get back; got that, Wallace?”

  Wallace made a face like Donny could suck it, which prompted Donny to shout back at Stubby as the three moved past us, “Don’t say a word, Arnold! Nothing, you hear me?”

  I craned my neck to look back at Stubby. He was openly weeping, and he was now slumped between the two agents, who were holding him up and moving him along while Stubby’s feet practically dragged on the ground.

  “Stubby!” I cried out to him, and Donny’s grip on my arm got even tighter, but I didn’t care. I wanted him to know he wasn’t alone. I’d do whatever I could to help him.

  By the time we made it to Donny’s car, I was crying so hard that I couldn’t catch my breath. It was a while before I realized that Donny had driven us a few blocks away and had parked on the side of the road. He was rubbing my back and waiting for me to get it together.

  At last I lifted my chin and pleaded with him. “You have to help him, Donny! He didn’t do anything! He only wanted to warn her! That’s all! It was all because of me. I told him about her numbers. It’s my fault, not his!”

  Donny rubbed my back again and squeezed my hands. When I could look at him without sobbing he said, “Kiddo, none of this is your fault. I promise you that I’ll help Stubs, but you have to be straight with me first.”

  I sniffled and wiped my cheeks. “I have been straight with you. I told you all about the card.”

  Donny eyed me critically. “Did you know that Stubs went to that high school to warn Payton?”

  I shook my head vigorously. “No! I swear! He never told me. I thought he’d just mailed her the card. I had no idea he’d done that.”

  “What about what her assistant coach said? That Stubby had an interest in her even before you saw her at the game?”

  I shut my lids and put a hand on my forehead, so exhausted and distraught that I felt hot and feverish. “You know how much Stubs likes to watch the cheerleaders, right?” Donny nodded. “He heard that the Jupiter squad had challenged our squad to a matchup before the football game, so he went to watch. That’s when he saw Payton for the first time, and I don’t know…She was such a pretty girl and I guess he started crushing on her right away. He was curious, so he asked the coach a little bit about her. It was harmless, Donny, I swear!”

  “I believe you,” he said. “But it doesn’t help us that he scoped her out before you saw her deathdate, Maddie.”

  My eyes welled again, and I wanted to curl into a ball. It was my fault. If I’d never said anything to Stubby about Payton’s deathdate, then nobody would’ve ever heard about his casual conversation with her coach.

  Then Donny said, “What’s the deal with the notebook?”

  I shook my head and dropped my gaze to my lap, so ashamed to have him learn that I kept something like that. I knew how morbid it made me look. “It helps me cope,” I whispered. “I need to do something with all those numbers, Donny. They’re everywhere I look, and writing them down helps me deal. I see so many people who think they’ve got another fifty or sixty years ahead of them; they have no idea that death is so close. It breaks my heart all the time to think about that moment when they’ll know that they have way less time than they thought, how hard that must be for them to realize they’re about to lose everything and leave everybody they love behind.” What I didn’t say was that I thought it’d been that way for my dad, but I had a feeling that Donny knew exactly what I meant.

  When Donny didn’t say anything I picked my gaze back up and saw his eyes were moist. He lifted his hand and cupped the side of my cheek. “I can’t even imagine how hard it must be for you, kiddo,” he said. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that. And I’m sorry you have to deal with all this. I’ll do everything I can to help you, though, okay?”

  I nodded, and without another word he drove us home. When we pulled onto my street we could see it crowded with vehicles and vans. Then I saw a few men and women wearing dark blue Windbreakers with FBI stenciled in yellow on the back. Our front door was open and the feds were walking in and out of it, carrying paper bags and my MacBook, which Donny had given me for Christmas the year before.

  I cried out, and Donny pulled over in front of Mrs. Duncan’s house. As he got out to go confront the agents invading our house, I saw Ma dressed in her Drug Mart smock and standing with Mrs. Duncan. Ma’s whole body was shaking; she’d been crying, too. When she saw Donny she let out a sob and ran to catch up with him.

  Part of me wanted to go comfort her, but I found that I couldn’t bring myself to move. I wanted to blame so much of this on Ma. If she hadn’t practically forced me to do those readings for strangers, we wouldn’t be in this mess. If she didn’t drink away all our money every month,
we wouldn’t need the extra cash. If she hadn’t moved us here in the first place. If she’d known what the numbers meant when I was little. If she’d put it together sooner and had warned Dad…

  If.

  If.

  If.

  If I had never been born…

  Except…

  Except that Tevon would still be dead.

  So would Payton.

  And my dad…

  Ma finally caught up to Donny, but her hysterics forced him to lead her away from the cluster of agents, and he walked with her back toward Mrs. Duncan’s. Across the street I saw Cathy and the rest of the Hutchinson family out on their front porch, openly gaping at the scene unfolding on our lawn.

  Ignoring them, I got out of the car and headed up the walk toward our kindly old neighbor. “Oh dear,” Mrs. Duncan said, when she caught sight of me. “You look a fright, Maddie. Why don’t you come inside and I’ll fix you some tea?”

  I sniffled and glanced at Donny. He had Ma wrapped in a hug while she cried on his shoulder, but he nodded at me and said, “I’ll be in soon. Go with Mrs. Duncan while I take care of your mom.”

  I lowered my head, trying to hide my tears. Mrs. Duncan’s kindness touched me deeply. Once inside, she put me in her cozy kitchen, which was a bright yellow with gleaming white trim. It smelled like cinnamon. “Are you hungry, Maddie?” she asked.

  I shook my head.

  Mrs. Duncan filled a kettle and placed it on the stove to heat up before she set down a plate of chocolate cookies in front of me and smoothed out my hair. It was such a tender gesture that it nearly undid me. Mrs. Duncan moved to a cabinet and brought out a box of tissues. She set that down next to the plate of cookies, and pulled out a chair next to me and held my hand, repeating over and over again that I’d be okay.

  I appreciated her calm, grandmotherly demeanor more than I could say. By the time she set down the steaming cup of tea, I had wiped my eyes and gotten myself together. Ma and Donny still hadn’t come in, but I could see through Mrs. Duncan’s front window that the street was still lined with spectators and cars.

  To distract myself, I cupped my hands around the mug and let the warmth seep into me.

  Mrs. Duncan brewed herself a cup as well before settling across from me. “How’re you doing in school?” she asked.

  The fact that she was making an effort not to ask me about what was happening next door wasn’t lost on me. I looked up at her forehead, and felt a wave of sadness. She’d be gone by the end of February. “I’m doing okay, I guess,” I told her, my voice hoarse. I cleared my throat and added, “I should make the honor roll again this semester.”

  Mrs. Duncan beamed proudly at me. “I always knew you were such a bright child, Maddie, but the honor roll? That’s wonderful!”

  I worked hard in school. I really wanted to go to Cornell, but Donny had flat out told me that there wasn’t enough money left in the trust to support four years at an Ivy League school. If I got in, I’d have to do it on what he could manage to give me from the trust, and scholarships and student loans and maybe even part-time work. “I’m trying to get into Cornell,” I told Mrs. Duncan.

  She blinked in surprise. “You are? Oh my, Maddie! That was my alma mater!”

  I sucked in a breath. I’d never pegged Mrs. Duncan for an Ivy Leaguer. In fact, I’d never pegged her for anything more than a sweet old lady. “You went to Cornell?”

  “I sure did. Class of fifty-four. That’s where I met Mr. Duncan. He was an assistant professor and we weren’t supposed to date, but we did. We were married a week after I graduated.”

  Mrs. Duncan’s eyes had a shiny faraway cast to them, and I could see how much she missed her husband. Then she focused on me again. “You would’ve liked Mr. Duncan,” she said. “He was a lovely man. And so smart! He was always downstairs in the basement, tinkering with some new invention.”

  “He sounds nice,” I said, taking up one of the cookies.

  “He was wonderful,” she told me. “I miss him terribly.”

  At that moment there was a knock on the front door, and Donny entered. “Hey,” he said when he saw us at the kitchen table. “The feds left. You can go back home, Maddie.”

  “Where’s Ma?” I asked.

  “She’s inside. She’s had as bad a day as we have. The feds went down to her work to serve the search warrant, and then her boss came by with the stuff from her locker. He fired her.”

  “Why?” I demanded. “He can’t do that, Donny! It’s not her fault the feds came to search our house!”

  Donny shifted uncomfortably and eyed Mrs. Duncan. “Her manager didn’t fire her for that, Maddie. Your mom had something she shouldn’t have had in her locker. It wasn’t anything illegal, but it was against company policy.”

  And then I knew what’d happened. Ma’s manager had found open liquor in her locker.

  “Oh,” I said, and got up quickly. Mrs. Duncan stood, too. She reached out and took hold of my wrist and said, “Wait one moment, Maddie.” She then moved to the refrigerator and pulled out a large casserole dish. “I made this lasagna last night, and of course I made too much. Why don’t you take it for you and your mother to heat up tonight?”

  I started to shake my head, feeling uncomfortable with the thought of accepting so much kindness, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Yes, yes,” she insisted, putting the heavy dish into my hands. “You eat it all up now, Maddie. You’re far too skinny for your own good!”

  Donny wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Thank you, Mrs. Duncan,” he said. “We really appreciate it, and Maddie will return the dish in the next few days.”

  I nodded, and Mrs. Duncan smiled and walked us to the door. Once we were outside and headed over to my house, he said, “Make sure you clean that really good before you give it back to her, okay?”

  I nodded dully; my attention was now focused on the trash left behind by the FBI agents. There were small plastic evidence bags blowing around on our lawn, and a set of discarded black rubber gloves had been tossed onto the driveway. I looked around at the other houses and found the lawns empty of people. The curtains at the Hutchinson household caught my eye—they were pulled back, and I could see Cathy’s mom staring at us. The venom in her gaze sent a chill up my spine.

  Shrugging deeper into my coat, I walked a little faster, until we’d rounded the corner to the back door. “Ma?” I called.

  “She’s upstairs,” Donny told me, taking the casserole dish out of my hands and moving with it to the fridge. Opening the door, he stared at the inside for a sec before setting the big dish in it. The fridge was mostly empty, so I knew there’d be room.

  “How can you live like this?” he asked me, once he’d shut the door.

  “We buy only what we need,” I said defensively, only then noticing that much of the kitchen was in disarray. Cupboards had been opened and rummaged through, and the contents of several drawers had been emptied and refilled, but there was still a lot of clutter on the counters.

  I hastened to start cleaning up, but then remembered Stubby still all alone at the FBI offices. “Are you going to go help Stubby?” I asked when Donny continued to stand there and look around at the mess in the kitchen.

  His gaze moved to me, and something in his eyes hardened. “Maddie, sit down for a minute, okay? Let’s talk.”

  Obediently, I moved to the kitchen table and took a seat. Donny took up the chair across from me, and for a long moment he simply stared intently at me. “I need to ask you something that I know is going to upset you, but before you answer, I need you to really think about it. Because if I’m going to represent Stubby, then I need to know what I’m up against, do you understand?”

  My brow furrowed. I couldn’t imagine what he was about to ask me. “Okay,” I said.

  Donny took a deep breath. “Are you positive that Stubby didn’t have anything to do with either Tevon Tibbolt or Payton Wyly’s murder?”

  I was so stunned that for nearly a full minute I could b
arely form words. “Are you kidding?” I finally managed. Donny knew Stubby. He knew how kind and sweet he was, how awkward and geeky, too. Stubby didn’t have a mean bone in his body. And he certainly could never torture and kill two kids.

  But Donny’s face was dead serious. “Did Stubby know about your notebook?”

  I blinked. “Yes.”

  “So…think about it, Maddie,” he said softly.

  “Think about what, Donny?” I demanded. “Stubby couldn’t hurt a fly! You know he would never intentionally hurt anyone!”

  Donny inhaled deeply again and sat back in his chair, still looking doubtful. “Maybe you don’t know Stubby as well as you think you do.”

  I shook my head, staring at him in disbelief. “Why would you think he could have anything to do with this?”

  Donny tapped the tabletop with his index finger. “Because you’re the perfect foil,” he said simply. I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about until he started to explain. “If I were a kid as smart as Stubby—but with a screw loose—and I knew you and what you could do, I could take advantage of it. You say that some other kid is about to die on such and such date, and maybe that kid’s going to die of natural causes or in a car accident, but I get to him or her first. Maybe I make sure they die on that date, and maybe I make sure lots of stuff points back to you. Maybe when the heat comes down I start to say that you did it. I tell the feds about your notebook. I tell them that you’re the sick one.”

  I began to shake my head, slowly at first then more vigorously. “How can you say that?” I whispered. “Donny, you know Stubby! And you also know Faraday was lying! Stubby would never accuse me!”

  But Donny only frowned and dropped his gaze to the table. “I haven’t talked to him yet, Maddie,” he reminded me. “And you’re right, I do think Faraday was lying. But I also know the law, and that’s why I don’t honestly think it’s a good idea for me to represent Stubby.”