TWENTY-TWO
FROM THE SIDEWALK ALONG THE edge of the park I can just make out the cascade of Hidden Falls gushing beyond the new spring leaves. From here, the rush of water is a pleasant murmur, not a deafening, drowning roar. A breeze runs up my arms, weaves through my hair, and I shiver, wondering if Mrs. Meyer’s crystals are actually working. I felt less haunted in Gretchen’s bedroom than I do standing out here. My fingers go to my wrist, tucking the bracelet safely inside my sleeve.
Someone clears their throat behind me.
“You know, you’re not supposed to be out walking without a buddy.” Reva Stone strolls toward me with a look of mild disinterest.
“Technically, I’m not out walking. Kirsten just dropped me off.”
She peers down through the trees toward the waterfall below. “She probably broke her neck, if that’s what you were wondering. Fall like that, I doubt she drowned. It was probably real quick.”
I stare at her, a bitter taste in my mouth. If Reva did want Gretchen dead, she’s making zero effort to hide it. “That’s not what I was thinking about.”
She shrugs. “My bad. Maybe you were angsting over who killed her. Everyone thinks Marcus Perez did it, though that does seem . . . obvious.”
I give her my full attention, but she’s focused somewhere out among the trees.
“Privileged kid with troubled upbringing murders overprivileged girlfriend after she dumps him.” She pretends to stifle a yawn. “Sounds like the plot to a boring crime novel.”
“Where exactly are you going with this?” I glance over her shoulder toward the diner. I’m not late yet, but my mom will be looking for me soon.
“What do you think Marcus had to gain from Gretchen’s death?”
I narrow my eyes. “Why do you even care?”
She tucks her ice-blue hair behind one ear. “I’m just interested in the truth, same as you.”
Somehow I doubt that. But I’m surprised she’s not hailing Marcus as a hero if she thinks he’s guilty.
“The sheriff said he has an alibi.”
“So you think he’s innocent.”
“I didn’t say that.” I look away, tugging at the strap of my backpack. “Why do you think Marcus might’ve wanted Gretchen dead?”
“Lots of reasons.” She smirks. “But primarily? Money.”
It’s all I can do not to laugh in her face. “Marcus doesn’t need money. He lives on Park Drive.”
Reva shakes her head like she’s being patient with a child. “The guy’s hard up. Can’t you tell?”
I picture the large gray Victorian on the far end of the park and it just doesn’t make sense. Marcus’s parents might have gotten into trouble, but his grandmother is from a wealthy, respected family. They’re not the Rockefellers or anything, but when I think of the cramped apartment my mom and I share, it’s hard to imagine them struggling. Marcus does drive his grandmother’s old Cadillac instead of having his own car like most kids in his neighborhood, but I always figured his grandmother was just strict. Reva’s mom runs a busy cleaning service, though, and she’s one of the more reliable sources of town gossip.
“Even if he does need money, how would Gretchen dying have helped him?”
“Maybe someone paid him to do it.” She looks right at me for the first time and smiles.
I don’t smile back.
“C’mon, Sonia. It makes more sense than him killing her in the heat of passion. Don’t even try to convince me he actually loved her.”
I hesitate when she says this, noting the tremor in her voice. “What are you getting at? Why do you care?”
She bares her teeth. “I just want people to know she wasn’t some beautiful saint. Maybe she finally got what was coming to her.”
I shake my head. “Fuck off, Reva.”
She smiles again, but it’s more like a grimace. “I’m only trying to offer a little advice, especially after bumping into you at Evil Bean. You might want to be careful who you hang out with.”
“Kind of like right now?”
Reva laughs, but there’s an edge to it that makes me uncomfortable. A few years back I would’ve described her as shy, but pleasant. She hung out with us occasionally, but she was more the kind of girl you could work with on a project for class without it feeling awkward than an actual friend. That changed toward the end of freshman year when she and Gretchen had their infamous fight. Neither of them would ever say what it was about, but I knew.
Reva tried to kiss Gretchen. It didn’t go well.
“Is it that easy to keep hating someone, even after they’re dead?” I ask.
She stops laughing, her mouth reverting to a scowl.
“What’s your alibi for that night?” I ask, trying to keep my cool. “Unless you’re saying you hired Marcus to push her off the top of the falls, I don’t see how this is relevant.”
“If it had been me, I would’ve done it myself.” She yanks all the flower petals off a low crab apple branch. “But you’re not the only one Marcus meets with in secret.”