He pressed his lips together. “That makes two down by the lake in the last few weeks. I’m worried about you.”
“It’s just coincidence,” I said. And yet he was right. One body at the Tavern on the eastern edge, on the other side of the lake from me; another along the southern coast, closer to my home on the west. Coincidence always led to story—I could feel it. Clusters of crime, of cancer, of suicide, for which there was no linking explanation—and yet we couldn’t look away; the mysteries that captured our collective consciousness.
He shook his head. “I don’t know what’s happening to this place. It’s a safe place. It’s always been safe.”
“There are crimes all the time, all over the place, Mitch.”
“It’s not like that here.”
“The population just doubled in size.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s not a city. It’s a nice community. People look after each other here. Or they used to. But now it’s overrun with people from other places.”
“It’s not just them. It’s a collision of worlds. The unemployed are still unemployed. They’re just buried under a layer of fresh shiny jobs. It’s a fucking breeding zone for crime. The new economy does nothing but make everyone else’s way of life unaffordable now.”
He stared into my eyes, as if realizing I was one of these new people. “Ms. Turner took over your class, by the way. You owe her one.”
“Okay, Mitch, okay,” I said.
“Leah,” he called after me. “Be safe.”
* * *
I TAPPED ON KATE Turner’s open door; she was eating alone at her desk. She gestured for me to come in, then stood, wiping the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “Oh my God.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Leah, I heard. They told me it was a brown car, and you took off. Your roommate?”
I shook my head. “Wasn’t her.”
Kate let out a relieved breath.
“I’m sorry for just leaving like that. Heard you covered for me. Thank you.”
“It’s nothing, it’s fine. Just next time, tell me first so some prissy little thing doesn’t end up in the front office tattling on her teacher.” She rolled her eyes, and I smiled.
“Seriously,” I said, placing my hand on her elbow. “Thank you.”
“Listen, why don’t you come over after work? Or we can go out somewhere. This whole thing is making me nervous.” Her whole body appeared on edge. This whole place would soon be on edge. But Kyle was coming over sometime this evening, and he’d have answers.
“I can’t today,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
The bell rang, and she groaned—third period about to get started. A student practically tripped into her classroom, earbuds in, music loud enough to hear from across the room. “And so it begins,” she said.
I backed up through the doorway. Thank you, I mouthed. I packed it all away, in a compartment in my mind for later.
Focus, Leah. Get to work.
* * *
IZZY MARONE FROZE AT the entrance to my class fourth period, the last block of the day—not expecting to see me back here. Her dark hair was brushed up into a slick ponytail, and her hazel eyes looked wide and innocent, lined with mascara. She had a perpetual tan, which she showed off with pale clothes, cut low and fitted across her skinny frame.
“I’m looking for my jacket,” she said. She stood at the entrance, not moving.
I tipped my head to the side. “Take a look,” I said, gesturing to the seats.
She moved through the rows, bending over, checking under the seats. A thorough commitment to the lie. Eventually, she straightened, hands on her hips. “Maybe Theo grabbed it for me. He’s my neighbor. I’ll check with him later.” As if she wanted me to know whose side she was on. Why was I not surprised that they came from the same place? That they both lived in giant homes, in new developments, the embodiment of shiny and safe?
I met her eyes. “Hope you find it,” I said.
She cleared her throat. “Is everything okay? Are you okay? Was it . . . Did you know them?”
I shook my head. “I’m okay, Izzy. Did you need anything else?” I assumed she was here for the gossip. The follow-up. The story.
She licked her lips again, moved toward the doorway, shook her head. “No, nope, that’s all.”
“See you tomorrow,” I said, so she would know: I was here, I was back, I wasn’t going anywhere.
It wasn’t until she turned away that I noticed she had a lined piece of paper in her hand, folded into a small square. She tucked it into the back pocket of her jeans as she walked away.
CHAPTER 20
Kyle didn’t call before showing up at my place later that afternoon, like I’d thought he would. Instead, he showed up unannounced, with company. There were two police vehicles parked back to back in the driveway behind my car. I’d known they’d come in an official capacity eventually: I’d told them that was Emmy’s car in the lake, after all. It was the first logical step.
I took Emmy’s broken necklace from my jewelry box, placed it on the front table, imagined they’d want it as evidence. Wished I’d been more careful, not grabbing it with my whole hand when I found it, letting it sit in my clenched fist, distorting any prints left behind.
This house had to be where she was taken from. Tangled up in some mess with James Finley, lowlife criminal fuckup. The cops would have to be here, and I’d have to be ready. Still, I’d imagined a call from Kyle first.
Kyle walked up the steps with two other men, one in uniform, the other dressed like Kyle, business casual. I recognized them both: One was the man who’d questioned me in school the first day, Clark Egan; the other, in uniform, Calvin Dodge, who was here the afternoon I’d found the necklace, preparing himself for whatever danger might’ve been awaiting. Dodge was younger than the others, a little unsure of himself. I met them out on the front porch before they knocked on the door.
“Ms. Stevens.” It was Detective Egan who spoke first. Then Dodge nodded in greeting. But it was Kyle who asked, “Can we take a look around at Emmy’s things?”
“Sure,” I said, stepping aside, inviting them in.
I backed inside the house, but Kyle didn’t look at me, didn’t smile, didn’t place a hand on my waist as he moved by. “Show us which room is hers?” he asked, and I blinked for a second too long.
This was all for appearances, then. Acting out our parts, compartmentalizing the different sides of our lives. “The room on the left,” I said.
Kyle walked down the hall alone, and Egan stayed on the front porch, staring off into the woods. Dodge waited in the front rooms, wandering aimlessly through the kitchen and living room. He scanned the countertops, the couch, the phone hooked into the wall. I saw him taking it all in.