Ivy smiled at her brother. “What’s up? You look like you just got laid.”
Daniel grabbed a pillow off the chair and threw it at her, but he was still grinning. “Don’t be nasty, sis.”
“Ivy!” her mother said, appalled.
“Come on, Daniel,” Ivy insisted, muting the TV, “what’s got you all excited?”
“First case.” He made a fist-pumping motion with his arm. “And it’s a big one!”
Her mom jumped up from the chair, and Martha Stewart Living landed on the floor, the pages splayed out. “Oh, honey!” she said. “I’m so proud of you! Sit down and tell us all about it.” She pointed at the couch next to Ivy, and her brother thumped down, rattling the whole living room. She never understood how he got to be so tall—the rest of the family was in the upper half of the five-foot range, but Daniel was almost six-six.
“Well, it’s actually Ivy’s professor,” Daniel said. “Ivy, I’m sure you heard, he disappeared last week. Just poof, and he was gone. No one can find anything. It’s like Keyser S?ze shit.” He chuckled.
Ivy’s heart stopped. Just stopped. Her blood was in her ears.
“Keyser who?” her mother asked.
The bottom fell out of Ivy’s stomach. “So you don’t know anything so far?”
He shook his head. “His wife’s batshit and they got in a fight. He might’ve taken off for a few days, but his car never left the driveway. I guess the dude loves walking, so we’re going to search the parks. See if something happened.”
“The parks?” Ivy asked. Did the river run through the park? Oh God, she didn’t know. What if his body washed up in the park?
Daniel turned to her. “Yeah, apparently the dude is into hiking. The fight was a blowout, so I wouldn’t be surprised if we found the dude way up there, just waiting for his wife to cool off. Still, we’re treating it like a real case, and the boss is letting me really take a big role here.” He paused. “So, Ivs—any way I could question you?”
“What?” Ivy asked. “No!”
“Come on, please?” He put his hands together. “You’d be doing me a huge solid here. I could use the experience so when I question someone real I won’t sound like an amateur. Besides, you know Stratford. You can tell me about him.”
“Stratford’s a jerk,” Ivy said. “And no. I don’t want to play cop with you, Daniel. You’re old. Can’t you handle your own job?”
“Ivy!” Mrs. McWhellen said. “Really! Don’t you want to help your brother? He’d do the same for you.”
Daniel gave her his dorky, too-sweet smile, the one he saved for when their mother was around, and she felt like she might throw up. But what was weirder—throwing up during fake questioning, or declining it altogether?
“Fine,” Ivy said. “But not today. I’m super PMS-y.”
Daniel shook his head. “I noticed. Call me. Mom, you can sit in too, if you want. It’ll be fun.”
“Sure, sweetie.”
Their mother smiled, delighted.
Ivy felt her lunch writhe in her stomach.
“Great,” she said. “Can’t wait.”
Daniel snorted. “Cheer up, sis. It’s not like you killed him.”
Mattie
Friday, June 19
Dr. Stratford was everywhere.
Everywhere Mattie looked.
His picture was on the news three times a night. His face was pasted on telephone poles. He was on the radio of his new car as he drove it around the neighborhood, trying to fill his mind with something else.
He was on at least three posts on Facebook so far, and two of those were from people who didn’t even live here. They were from home.
That meant news of Stratford’s disappearance had traveled. It wasn’t just here anymore.
Mattie’d even posted it on his own page, thinking that if he didn’t he’d looked callous and awful. (And he wasn’t.)
(Only, he was.)
Just last night, his mother had called, worried about the effect that Stratford’s disappearance was having on her son. And she didn’t even protest when Mattie told her his aunt had purchased him a brand-spanking-new car. She seemed relieved that he wouldn’t be riding his bike anymore.
He didn’t tell her it was missing.
“Just be safe,” she pleaded. “No one knows what happened to your professor!”
“Can I come home?” Mattie asked. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”
“But what about your class?”
“Who knows?” Mattie said. “The next few classes are canceled while they look for him. It’ll probably just be canceled altogether if they can’t find him. Or if they do, maybe he won’t want to finish it.”
“Don’t sound so hopeful,” his mother said, and laughed. The sound had made Mattie want to die.
Mattie felt that way a lot. The wrong word, the wrong sound, even, set him off. He felt that way right now, as he sat outside on his balcony, one leg dangling off the stone balcony.
If he fell, would he die when he hit the concrete below?
He looked across his aunt’s property toward Ivy’s house, crouched lower on the hill. He wanted to talk to her.