You'll Be the Death of Me

“He promised Autumn he wouldn’t,” Charlie says. “But then last night, he told me he’d talked to the guy again and decided to go. He said not to tell Autumn, because she’d just”—he puts up finger quotes—“hold us back. He said she’s small-time, and we could be big-time.”

“Big-time?” I ask, alarmed. “What does that mean?”

Charlie lifts a shoulder. “Not sure. He didn’t want to get into it over the phone. He said he’d explain everything once he made the connection.”

“The connection?” I echo. “With who? The guy with the giant order?”

“I guess?” Charlie turns his palms up in a helpless gesture.

“Do you know why he went to that specific building?” I ask. “Was that Boney’s idea, or the guy he was meeting?”

“The guy,” Charlie says. “He gave Boney the address and a code for the door.”

I rock on my heels. “Do you have any idea who this guy is?”

“None,” Charlie says, sinking lower in the couch. “I felt weird about it this morning, like maybe we should listen to Autumn. If she thinks something’s a bad idea, then it probably is. I tried calling her, to ask if we should stop him, but she didn’t pick up either of her phones. So I just—let it go.” His head droops as he makes a fist and bounces it hard against the armrest of the couch. “Fucking hell. I shouldn’t have let it go.”

Silence falls as we get lost in our own regrets. I wish, obviously, that I hadn’t led Mateo and Ivy to the studio this morning. But more than that, I wish I’d pushed Lara harder for answers when I had the chance. I wish I hadn’t been so quick to decide she must be blameless. Because it’s getting more and more impossible to believe that she is.

“Hey, Charlie.” Mateo finally breaks the silence, taking out his phone and swiping the screen a few times. “I haven’t heard from Autumn all day. Have you?” His voice is tight with worry. “Does she know what happened to Boney?”

“I don’t think so,” Charlie says. “She never called me back. You know how it is when she’s driving the murder van.”

Before I can react to that, Ivy’s head snaps up. “The what?” she asks, surprisingly alert for someone who was near comatose last time I checked. Mateo, looking relieved at the sign of life, lightly squeezes her shoulder. “There’s a murder van?” Ivy repeats, glaring accusingly at Charlie. “Just what kind of drug business are you guys running?”

“It’s a joke,” Mateo says quickly. “A nickname. Autumn works for a knife-sharpening company, and there’s a giant knife painted on the side of the van, so…” He briefly shuts his eyes as Ivy winces. “It seemed a lot funnier before today.”

“Jesus,” Ivy mutters. She stands up and rolls her shoulders, like she’s trying to put herself back into problem-solving mode.

“Did you hear everything we just talked about?” I ask, because it really did seem like she was in another world for a while.

“I heard,” she says, patting my arm. “You asked good questions. Except for one glaring omission, but I know that’s a difficult topic for you.” She turns toward Charlie. “Charlie, did Boney ever say anything to you about Ms. Jamison?”

“The art teacher?” Charlie asks, blinking up at her. “No. Why would he?”

“Because she works in the studio where Boney died,” Ivy says. “And we found a list that she’d made with your name, Boney’s name, and Mateo’s name circled.” She waits for some kind of reaction from Charlie, but he still looks confused. “Why do you think she did that?”

Charlie shrugs. “You’re the smart one. You tell me.”

A trace of color returns to Ivy’s cheeks. Without realizing it, Charlie just gave her a much-needed shot of energy. Getting called smart is her own personal Red Bull. “Well, now that we understand how you and Boney are connected, it seems like the list must have something to do with the stolen drugs,” she says. “But then Autumn should be on it, not Mateo.”

“Except Autumn doesn’t go to Carlton High anymore,” Mateo says. “So her name wouldn’t be on a class roster. Maybe only the last name mattered.”

Ivy taps her chin. “That’s a good point.”

Charlie flings one arm over the back of the couch. He looks calm again, as though all the brain cells holding his guilt about Boney have gone back to being comfortably numb. “Or maybe it was a guess,” he says. “If you were gonna pick a drug-dealing Wojcik, wouldn’t it be him?” Charlie waves in Mateo’s direction. “The big guy with the bad attitude. Not the cute girl.”

“That’s…also a good point,” Ivy says, like it pains her to admit it.

“Yeah, it is,” Charlie says, his eyes half-shuttered as he shoots her a lazy grin. “You know, your hair looks really good down. You should wear it like that all the time.”

“I…thank you?” Ivy says uncertainly.

“You’re welcome.” Charlie looks her up and down, then pats the seat beside him. “Sit down for a minute. Relax. You’re way too tense.”

Ivy crosses her arms tightly over her chest. “Personally, I feel like I’m exactly the right amount of tense for the situation at hand,” she says.

Karen M. McManus's books