You'll Be the Death of Me

“But Lara! Wait!” I throw my body across the door again. “You can’t just leave. You have to go to the police—they’ll believe you. Lots of people must have seen you this morning, right? They’ll know you couldn’t have killed Boney, and—”

“I’m not counting on the police,” Lara says. “It doesn’t matter that I have an alibi. You don’t know Tom. He might’ve failed at what he was trying to do, but he’s relentless. He always has a Plan B, and I’m not sticking around to find out what it is.” She releases the suitcase and tries to physically shove me away from the door.

I hold my ground. “But the police will find you! Coach Kendall will find you.”

Lara’s lips curve into a grim smile. “One of the nice things about Tom is, he’s gotten to know some interesting people in his line of work. The kind of people who can help you disappear if you pay them enough. Which I have.” She pats the bag on her shoulder, then quirks her lips at me. “Don’t look so horrified, Cal. Even if things hadn’t imploded, I was never going to last as a small-town art teacher. This is better for everyone.”

I’m finally too shell-shocked to resist when she brushes past me, opens the door, and steps outside. I wait for the sound of her suitcase rolling down the stairs, but it doesn’t come. For a second there’s nothing but silence, and then I hear something else: a scared, muffled, whimpering sound that makes my heart thump hard against my rib cage. That doesn’t sound like Lara, but it almost sounds like…

I lean into the doorframe and look through it. Lara is standing perfectly still, the suitcase at her side, staring at the scene in front of her. It’s Coach Kendall, still wearing his Carlton Lacrosse jacket, with his arm around Ivy’s neck and his hand over her mouth. Her eyes, wide and terrified, get even bigger when she spots me.

“Oh shit,” Lara says under her breath, so low that I’m probably the only one who can hear her. “This must be Plan B.”





CAL


Minutes later we’re all in the garage across from Lara’s house, because Coach Kendall has a gun and he’s not afraid to wave it at us. Lara sits first, settling herself delicately in one corner like she’s a guest at an underfurnished house party. I drop like a stone on the hard cement floor, and Coach Kendall finally takes his hand from Ivy’s mouth to shove her next to me.

“Where is Daniel?” she asks hoarsely as soon as she can speak. “What did you do with my brother?”

“Nothing,” Coach Kendall says. He lowers the garage door and flicks a light switch beside it, illuminating the interior with the dim yellow glow of a single bulb. Then he puts down the duffel bag he’d had on his shoulder and crouches beside it. “All I did was take his phone.”

Ivy shudders with relief as my brain tries to absorb all of this new information. “Daniel?” I parrot. “So I was right? Daniel is the Weasel?”

Coach Kendall’s face twists. Holy hell, how did I ever think this guy was friendly? He looks like a serial killer. “The what? What are you talking about?” His eyes narrow. “And why are you here?”

“Um. No reason.” I snap my mouth shut and try to keep the plastic bag of pills I shoved back under my shirt from sliding out, but it’s too late. Coach Kendall gestures at me with his gun, and I reluctantly let the bag drop into my lap.

“Throw it,” he orders, and I do. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters, turning the bag over in one hand. “What are you up to, Lara?”

“That’s a better question for you, Tom,” Lara says. Considering the circumstances, she sounds remarkably composed. “What’s with the gun and the…” She flicks her eyes to Ivy. “Hostage?”

“How could you do that to Boney?” Ivy cuts in, her voice shaking. “He was your student. He trusted you!” She almost looks as though she expects him to agree; like he’s still the affable coach she thought she knew. Someone she can argue with, or reason with.

“He was a thief,” Coach Kendall says dismissively. “And a small-time dealer who wanted to be bigger. That’s why he came to the studio this morning. One of my guys told him that if he returned everything that was taken, we’d let him into the business. But that little piece of shit had the nerve to show up empty-handed.” His nostrils flare. “He thought it would give him leverage.”

Ivy and I exchange startled glances. Charlie hadn’t told us that part, and it didn’t seem like he was trying to hide anything. Boney must have hatched that plan on his own. Maybe he thought he’d dazzle Charlie with his negotiating prowess afterward. We could be big-time.

“Is that why you had him killed?” I ask, my throat dry.

“No.” He meets my eyes with a predator’s gaze: alert, deadly, and totally dispassionate. “He was always going to die. I needed a body for the police to find.” He turns back to Lara. “And for you to get found with. But I was supposed to get my investment back first.”

Karen M. McManus's books