Reece nodded, his face turned in profile against the wall as the second cuff clicked shut. He craned his neck, speaking over his shoulder to her as she patted him down. “Do you think you can give us a minute?”
“Make it quick,” she said, dropping back a few feet. The blue uniforms stood close to the door, hands on hips, listening to their radios.
Reece spoke in a low voice, careful not to be overheard. “You need to know something. We busted Lonny after the rave. I’ve been in lock-up all night. We had to make him think I got busted too. I grabbed your file when they released me this morning, and I left the reports from last night’s bust on Nicholson’s desk. Lonny made a deal and turned over a list of his ketamine buyers,” he said so quietly I almost couldn’t hear him. “You weren’t on it . . . but Jeremy was.”
“Jeremy?” I stared at Reece. That just wasn’t possible. It had to be a mistake. Jeremy wouldn’t buy street drugs, let alone from someone like Lonny.
I took a step back. “No. They’ve got the wrong Jeremy. There’s more than one Jeremy at West River. There has to be someone else I know on that list. Who else did Lonny sell to?”
The officers paused their conversation and turned toward us. Reece spared them a glance and pitched his voice lower. “Vince.” He bent to look me in the eye and whispered, “Think about it, Leigh. You know he’s not smart enough to pull off something like this.”
But Jeremy? Jeremy was smart, and he knew me better than anyone. He knew I read the Missed Connections. He had access to my locker. He’d been at every crime scene. And he and Anh . . .
Nicholson’s question haunted me. Do you know the person who wrote these ads, Miss Boswell?
“What are you saying?”
Reece didn’t speak, his thoughts implicit in his silence.
I shook my head. My heart warred with itself. All the clues, all the circumstantial evidence fit. Anyone who didn’t know him as well as I did could actually believe he did this.
“Maybe you’re wrong,” I said, desperate to believe it. “Maybe it isn’t the same Jeremy.”
Reece put his lips close to my ear and whispered, “Leave town, Leigh. Get out of the state. Get someplace safe until I’m . . .” I felt him pause for a breath. “Just get away until this whole thing blows over.”
“I can’t!” I whispered back. Where would I go?
The officer cleared her throat in warning. Reece pulled back and raised his voice just enough to satisfy her. “Try. For me. I’ll be gone at least two weeks, and that’s if things go well.” If not, then they’d send him back to juvie. He’d risked everything. His future. His freedom. For mine.
“Take the trash out before you leave.” He aimed a meaningful glance toward the sofa. “And try not to do anything stupid while I’m gone.” He straightened as the officer laid a hand on his shoulder.
I shook my head. They couldn’t take him. This wasn’t his fault.
“If you get into trouble, call Gena,” Reece said quietly. “I’ll find you when I’m out. I promise.”
They escorted him to the door. His cuffs rattled and something crumbled inside me. He stopped in the doorway and turned.
“And Leigh? I always knew you were worth it.” He smiled weakly as the officers closed the door.
I pulled back the curtain and watched through the window as he ducked into the squad car and the door snapped shut. Reece didn’t look back.
39
I knew something wasn’t right the minute I stepped off the bus. Sunny View was too quiet. No filthy puddle-jumping kids with shaggy hair pitching gravel in the street, the usual troublemakers nowhere in sight.
I paused beside a neighbor’s trailer. I could just make out the corner of my own a few yards away. A car was parked in front, but we didn’t own a car. The dark blue Crown Victoria sat catty-corner in the street, its front fender leaning into our trash cans. There were three antennae on the roof and extra lights mounted in the rear windows. An unmarked police car. I couldn’t see my porch from where I pressed up tight against the neighbor’s siding, but I heard a persistent knocking on my door.
I patted my pockets as I backed up the street, retracing my steps to the bus stop. I’d left the phone in Reece’s apartment and locked the door behind me when I’d left. No way to call Gena. And nowhere to run.