I explain what I saw and heard, and then say, “What if he has Tiffany in that van?”
“Then we wait for him to leave and go check.”
Not what I was going to suggest, and he knows it, saying, “We’re waiting, Skye. If he moves Tiffany, we’ll hear it. Otherwise, there is absolutely no advantage to jumping him. Remember what happened the last time?” He nods at my arm.
He has a point. A very good one. It’s just…
“Yes,” he says. “My plan is very boring. Safe and boring.”
“We need to place Chris at the scene,” I say.
“I’m sure his fingerprints will do that.”
“He’ll wear gloves. He did last night.”
“Skye, do not try to make this more exciting.”
“I’m not —”
“Yep, totally are.” He puts an arm around my waist and leans in as if to kiss me, and then stops. “Speaking of bad ideas…”
“Seems like a good one to me. Definitely more exciting than just standing around.”
“But we’re standing around to listen for him. Which means we can’t get distracted by kissing.”
“I hate it when you make sense.”
“Only when it interferes with your grand adventures.” He brushes his lips across mine, and then moves to the fence. He grabs the edge, hoists himself up and hangs there, peering over. A few moments later, he hops back down and says, “How about a compromise? We won’t confront Chris, but considering all the trouble we’ve had convincing people, it’d be wise to get a photo of him near that van.”
“Can you get that from here?”
“No, which is where you get your excitement. There’s another fence right behind the van. That’ll get us closer and give a better angle.”
When we reach the fence, though, we see a problem – it’s even higher, with wire along the top.
“If we go to the end and peek around, we’ll be perfectly lined up for a photo,” I say.
“Also perfectly lined up for Chris to see us.”
“I’ll keep my flash off. Just a quick peek and a snap.”
“Yeah, and if that doesn’t work, you’ll creep closer and closer until you’re right in front of him. We’ll figure out something else.”
We head along the fence. At the end, I see a car between us and the van. Jesse whispers a plan.
We creep to the car, and then I sneak along the back with my camera ready. Jesse heads around the front, where he’ll toss pebbles, drawing Chris’s attention while I get the picture.
It’d be a great plan… if Chris was anywhere to be seen.
When I get around the car, there’s no sign of him. I catch an unexpected smell, though. One I recognize.
That’s when I see Chris. He’s sitting on the back bumper of the van, his phone in one hand, thumb zipping across the screen. In the other hand… well, that’s where the smell comes from.
I take another two steps. My foot comes down, and I see something beneath it, but it’s too late. I’m stepping on a crushed soda can. My foot catches the edge, sending it clinking away. Chris jumps up, dropping the joint, his sneaker coming down to put it out as he sees me.
“Skye?”
There’s a clatter behind him. Running footfalls. Then a dark shape launches at Chris’s back, knocking him down. His phone thumps to the ground.
“Jesse?” he says.
Jesse flips Chris over and pats him down.
“What the hell?” Chris says, looking confused.
Jesse empties Chris’s pockets. Keys and a wallet.
“No knife,” Jesse grunts as he double-checks.
“Knife?” Chris says, his voice rising.
I open the back door of the panel van. I know I’m not going to see Tiffany in there. Instead, I find exactly what I now expect – a small bag of weed, with rolling papers and a lighter. And a can of Axe body spray.
“I’d offer you guys some,” Chris says. “But I get the feeling that’s really not what you’re here for.”
“It isn’t,” I say. “I hate Axe.”
He gives a strained chuckle. “It’s cover-up. My mom wouldn’t appreciate me coming home smelling like weed.”
“I suspect she can still figure it out.”
“Yeah, probably. I don’t smoke much. Just… I had a rough night at work. But, again, I’m sure I’m not lying on the ground because you guys disapprove of my choice of stress relief. Any chance I can get up?”
“When you tell us where we’ll find Tiffany,” Jesse says.
“Tiffany Gold?”
“She’s missing.”
“What?”
Chris’s shock looks genuine.
“You know I’ve been having trouble at school, right?” I say. “Someone harassing me and then framing me for it.”
His eyes widen more. “Are you saying that was Tiffany? And now she’s taken off?”
“No, but I think her disappearance is connected to what’s happening to me. That whoever is harassing me might have taken her.”
“Kidnapped her?”
“So you know nothing about that?”
“How could I…?” His gaze travels from me to Jesse. “Wait, you’re not accusing me —”
“I also mentioned that someone’s been trying to get me to dig into the North Hampton shooting. Leaving notes. Dropping off articles and police report pages…”
He goes still. “Oh, hell.” He exhales. “Okay, this looks bad.”
I motion for Jesse to let Chris up. He does, but stays close, ready to put him down again.
“Yes, I put that stuff in your locker,” Chris says.
“The articles and pages.”
“Yes.”
“The note saying There’s more to the story.”
“Yes.”
“The note shoved under the newspaper office door, saying I know what you did.”
“What? No. That wasn’t me. Just the other one. And the pages.” He shakes his head. “This looks so bad.”
“Yeah, it kinda does,” I say.
He looks around. “Can we go grab food and talk? I’m starving.”
I point at the stubbed-out joint. “That’ll do it.”
He chuckles. “No, I didn’t smoke that much. But I was trying to save money by eating when I got home. So I’m starving. I’m not trying to wiggle out of this.” He points to the keys. “We can use my mom’s car. You drive. Just be careful. Please.”
“I don’t have my license,” I say. “Jesse brought his mom’s car. We’ll take that. I just need to call home and let my aunt know I won’t be home before dark.” I wave up at the blackened sky.
“I should tell my mom too,” Chris says.
“Do you have a copy of the pages you gave me?” I ask.
His brow furrows. “Sure, up in our apartment.”
“Jesse? Can you go with Chris and get those while he lets his mom know he’s going out?”
Skye
On the drive, I take Chris’s pages. I flip straight to the police report. I remember the detective slapping the file shut before I could read it, and my stomach has been hosting a butterfly convention ever since Chris handed them to me.
I read the report once. I read it twice. Chris wanted me to see something here that would make me proclaim Luka’s innocence. But I don’t. It’s the opposite, in fact.
The pages are from the statement of the “witness” who told them Luka was involved. The report doesn’t name Harley as the source, but it must be him. He’s the only survivor. As the detective said, under the terms of his plea bargain, the details of his statement were secret, which is why he isn’t named.
What I have are two pages that talk about Luka’s involvement. Two pages clarifying, unequivocally, that my brother was part of the shooting. Isaac came up with the plan, but Luka was on board. He was angry with our dad and upset about our mother, and feeling like no one understood him.
Feeling like no one was paying attention to him.
Joining Isaac’s plan to make them pay attention.
Exactly what Mr. Vaughn and Mae accused me of.
And now, maybe, I know why.
But this doesn’t explain why Chris gave me these pages. Which is what I’m going to ask, obviously. I just want to hear his explanation first.
We go for pizza. I let Chris order, but when he adds bacon, I shake my head. He hesitates. Then his gaze shoots to Jesse, and he says, “Right. Forgot.” Jesse says no, he’s fine picking it off, but I’m glad when Chris amends the order. Making Jesse pick it off isn’t right.