The Bakersville Dozen Page 6

  “Fine.” Hannah sighed. “Wesley?”

  “I’m going to stick with B,” he said.

  Hannah turned and placed a hand on Tripp’s back. “At least you’re not a total wuss. Lead the way?”

  “This was your idea,” he said, his feet shuffling on the soft ground. “Shouldn’t you go first?”

  “Pathetic,” Hannah said, then snorted. She reached out with both hands and parted the grass, stepping through the screen it created. After a few seconds of mental preparation, Tripp followed her. The grass swooshed back into place, serrated edges linking together. In just a few steps, every trace of Hannah and Tripp had disappeared.

  I swiveled toward the pond watching the late-afternoon sunlight filter through the trees to dance on the surface of the water.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Wes squat and pick up a rock; then he stood and tossed it across the water’s surface. It skipped five times. Not bad. But it didn’t beat his record.

  “I don’t get why you’re so pissed,” he said. “That night at the Christmas party, after . . . you said you couldn’t talk to me anymore. I did what you wanted, so why—”

  “I’m not pissed.” Guilt washed through me for Wes again, instead of Jude. Which was ridiculous. It’s not like I’d broken the heart of the biggest player I’d ever known.

  “If you’re not pissed”—Wes’s voice was a gravelly whisper—“why is it so hard for you to look at me?”

  My eyes snapped to his, a lifetime of memories fluttering through my mind like the pages of a flip-book. Us out here as kids, Tripp by our sides, the three of us racing circles around the pond, fishing, playing hide and seek in the woods. Us as teens, me harboring a secret crush, watching Wes bring home one pretty girl after another, sure that he’d never see me. And then, last summer, the moment he finally did; how I’d pressed myself against his body, hoping to make sure he’d never again see anyone else.

  “Just let it go.” I twisted away from him, the tree’s rough bark biting into my arm and shoulder as I tried to push away the memory of his smooth skin burning against mine, the need I had felt as I lay wrapped in his arms.

  Wes tossed another rock. I closed my eyes, pushing him out. Wes didn’t matter anymore. What we’d had was over before it even began. I had Jude now. He wasn’t afraid to show the world that he loved me.

  But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t block the memory of the night things between Wes and me had changed forever. The night this whole crazy thing had begun.

  He’d come home late—the middle of a night when sleep had totally escaped me—windows down, music blaring, baseball cap backward as he slipped out of his truck and slammed the door shut. One chance glance and he started walking my way, flipping his keys around his thumb and catching them in the palm of his hand. Ca-chunk, ca-chunk, ca-chunk. I was on the hammock, one leg trailing to the ground, toes curled into the cool dirt beneath me, pushing myself slowly back and forth as I gazed through the canopy of leaves to the stars filling the blue-black sky.

  He motioned for me to scoot over. As he slipped onto the canvas, I turned onto my side and rested my cheek on his arm. He twisted, facing me, his eyes locked on mine. His breath smelled like beer, pot, and bubblegum. His eyelashes swept up and down, his chest rising and falling, breaths shaky and tense.

  I wondered if he wanted me. I hoped so.

  Tilting my chin up slightly—very slightly—I closed the inches separating us, and did the thing I’d spent years imagining.

  He froze when my lips met his. I wondered if he could hear my heart crashing against my ribs, but then his hand slid down my side, grabbing my waist and pulling me closer. With the hammock swaying us from side to side, the heat of his skin and silky feel of his lips lit me on fire.

  He’d swept a strand of hair from my eye, his thumb tracing the outline of my jaw. “This has to be our secret, B. I don’t know how people would feel—your parents, Tripp. This has to be just for us.”

  “I can keep a secret,” I’d said with a smile. “As long as we keep doing this.” I kissed him again, harder, arching my body toward his as his fingertips teased their way beneath the hem of my tank top.

  Pulling myself back to the pond, I opened my eyes, looking right at him. “I kissed you,” I said. “I’m the one who started it. I should have known better.”

  “Yeah,” Wes said. “I guess you should have.”

  “Especially after you came up with that plan,” I said. “One night a week, just us and the stars, right here at the pond. Our secret.”

  “It wasn’t like I—”

  “Please, don’t, okay? It was stupid. I knew it would never last. And now it’s over.”

  “But—”

  “Wes, I just can’t. Especially now. With this scavenger hunt and Leena and the rest of those gir—”

  “Bailey, I’m sorry.” Wes walked toward me, the fabric of his cargo shorts rustling with each step. He grabbed both of my hands, pulling them to his chest. My body soaked up his heat, his energy, every piece of me vibrating with the nearness of him. “I am so sorry for the way that I let you call things off when I left for school last fall. That I didn’t fight harder. But I didn’t know how I would feel. Not until I left and—”

  “Stop.” My eyes started to sting and tears spilled down my cheeks. I almost told him the one thing I’d always regretted keeping to myself. “Please, just stop.”

  But I heard Hannah’s voice—shrill, staccato—and Tripp’s—deep, shaky. Yanking away from Wes, I swiped the tears from my cheeks and shoved my hands in my pockets. My fingers grazed a folded slip of paper, which felt like a touchstone bringing me back to reality. I squeezed my eyes tight, feeling like the worst person in the world, and pulled the paper free.

  I CAN’T WAIT TO SPEND THE SUMMER WITH YOU. THIS IS OUR TIME, B. I WON’T LET ANYONE TAKE IT AWAY.

  —JUDE

  So I wasn’t just the worst person in the world. I was the worst person in the entire universe. I crinkled the note in my hand, ducking toward the big tree just as the curtain of grass parted with a slithery rustle.

  “She’s wearing her tiara,” Hannah said, her words sharp and sure as she marched toward us. “You guys failed to mention that little detail.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Wes asked.

  “I’m talking about Miss Leena Grabman, the only chick in America who could pull off a landslide win for prom queen without even being near the school the entire quarter before the vote. The tiara she should have been crowned with, but couldn’t be, seeing as she’d been missing for three months? It’s on her head.”

  “No way.” I pictured Leena lying there on that blanket, the cascade of her so-blonde-it’s-almost-white hair rippling around her head and shoulders. “There was no tiara. Not when we saw her.”

  “Bailey’s right,” Wes said. “I don’t remember any tiara.”

  “Maybe you just missed it,” Tripp said. “It is a pretty gruesome scene. An awful lot to process when you’re taken by surprise like that.”

  “Give me some credit,” I said. “I’m telling you, she didn’t have a tiara on her head.”

  “Well, there’s one there now,” Tripp said.

  “And it’s the same one from prom,” Hannah said. “I’d know it anywhere. Three rows of tiny crystal flowers, a single black rhinestone in the center of each.”

  “So what?” Wes shrugged. “With everything else going on, why is some stupid tiara such a big deal?”

  Hannah snorted. “First off, that tiara’s supposed to be locked in a display case at the high school.”

  “So whoever did this has access to the school,” Wes said, “and they’re close enough to know that the tiara would’ve gone to Leena.”

  “Right, but there’s more to it,” Hannah said. “That tiara was in the display case today. I saw it during the Last Day Ceremony.”

  “I did, too,” I said, remembering the spark and flare of those fake diamonds.

  “So whoever killed her
was in the building this afternoon,” Tripp said. “Up close and personal. Stealing tiaras. Leaving notes in my sister’s locker.” He took a deep breath. “It was either Turley or someone who blends in, someone who didn’t raise any suspicion. Guys, we gotta get back to the house. We need to tell the detective everything we know.”

  “Right,” I said. “If we screw this up, all those girls could all end up just like Leena.”

  “I’m glad you’re on board.” Tripp grabbed my hands, squeezing hard. “All of this is too much for us to handle. If anything happened to you—”

  “However you look at this, I’m at risk,” I said. “Nothing’s going to take that away. Which is why we have to follow the clue. It’s the only way to get the answers we need. The answers the police need.”

  “Follow the clue?” Tripp asked, throwing his arms in the air. “Are you fucking serious right now? No way the cops are going to allow that.”

  “Then we convince them.” I shrugged, like it would be nothing, but I knew it would be next to impossible. “If we can’t, we have to follow that clue on our own.”

  “Okay, say we do.” Tripp laughed, but the sound was distorted, half-crazy. “What comes next?”

  “You guys need to stop arguing.” Hannah’s eyes were wide as she looked from Tripp to me. “Just stop.”

  “Bailey needs to stop,” Tripp snapped. Then he looked right at me. “For one second, B, you need to think. What if by following these clues, trying to save one of those girls, you risk your own life? Or one of ours? What if we play this stupid game and one of us dies? How are you going to feel then?”

  “What the hell kind of question is that?”

  “One you need to think about, B. If you refuse to play, there’s no game.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Let the cops figure this out. That’s what they’re trained to do. That’s if we’re right and the girls are still alive.”

  “Flip side, what if the cops, who’ve botched everything they’ve touched so far, still can’t find whoever’s behind this? It’s been five months and all they’ve got are some suspicions about Roger Turley, which haven’t led to any charges. Let’s face it, they need our help. If this is someone close, we might be the best in they have.”

  “She’s got a point,” Hannah said.

  “Shut up, Hannah.” Tripp glared at her before turning his attention to Wes. “Little help here, bro?”

  “Honestly, I can see both sides. I’m torn.”

  “Well, I’m not,” Tripp snapped. “I don’t care what any of you say. We’re done with this insane debate about tracking down a killer and the girls he took who may or may not be alive. And we are most definitely not following any more stupid-ass clues.”

  I turned to my brother. “I’m not going to lie, I’d feel better with all of you by my side. But I’m not going to force you, so if you want out, fine.” I shoved past him, moving around the edge of the pond, eyes fixed on the trailhead. “Do whatever you have to do. But you can’t make me stop.”

  “Bailey!” Tripp called, fear tingeing the word. “Where the hell are you going?”

  “Home. To talk to the detective. And then, school. I’m going to see if I can find out who stole that tiara from the display case.” I let the words hang in the air between us, hoping he’d give in; I wasn’t sure I could do this without him.

  “What? Like someone’s just going to tell you?”

  “Dammit, Tripp, I don’t know, okay?” I stopped, turning back to face him. He stood motionless by the tree, right where I’d left him, his face red and splotchy. Hannah was walking away. She looked like she was about to be sick. And Wes was following ten feet behind me, his mouth set in a grim line.

  “You can’t,” Tripp pleaded. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “I have to. If I was missing, wouldn’t you want someone to at least try?”

  “She’s right.” Wes pressed his lips together, his eyes turning to steel. “No matter the risks, we’re in. All of us. Together. Forget about the other girls if you have to. The most important thing here is Bailey. She needs us. And it’s our job to help her.”

  Tripp closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “If something happens, I swear to God, I’ll hold you responsible, Wes.”

  “We’re not going to let anything happen,” he replied. “Not if we stick together.”

  “That’s great in theory. But what if you’re wrong?”

  “We can do this,” Hannah said. “This guy is close. We can help catch him.”

  “You three aren’t going to let this go, are you?” Tripp asked.

  “No,” Hannah said. She walked back to Tripp, grabbed his hand, and tugged him along. He took one step, two, three, falling in behind her. “At the very least, come to the high school with us and try to find out who took the tiara. There are security cameras all over the place, right? We just have to figure out a way to watch the footage. If you want to reevaluate the situation after that when we’re planning out the next step, fine.”

  “Don’t worry, bro, we’re going to keep one another safe.” Wes tilted his chin, a smile lighting his face before he turned back toward me, his eyes softening. “For the record,” he whispered, stepping closer to me, “I agree with Tripp. We should leave all of this to the cops.”

  “If that’s what you think, then why are you—”

  “I’m tired of fighting.” Wes reached toward me, but I pulled away. “You need to know that you can count on me. This time I’m not going to let you down.”

  I didn’t know how to respond. I wasn’t even sure what I was feeling as I led the way out of the woods.

  I’d been able to push thoughts of Wes out of my mind for the entire school year—minus the minor slip-up during Winter Break. But now he was back, making me question everything I thought I knew.

  CHAPTER 10

  5:02 PM

  My thoughts were racing as we walked along the trail. I tried to remind myself that everything with Wes was too much. That the crazy way I’d always loved him might have felt better than anything, but it had ended up hurting more than anything, too. As we moved past the trees, crossing through thick shadows and streaks of light, I reminded myself that none of that mattered anymore. It never would again. Jude was my here and now, and I couldn’t be luckier.

  I shoved away the guilty feelings that had bubbled to the surface. After the summer Wes and I had shared, it was natural for questions to linger, I told myself. Now that he was home from college, I just needed a little time to find my balance.

  “So, how are we going to get our hands on the security footage?” I asked, pushing myself to concentrate on the next major task.

  “This is your brilliant idea,” Tripp said. “Don’t you already have a plan?”

  “Drop the attitude. Really not helping.”

  “The administration isn’t just going to welcome us in for a complimentary viewing,” Hannah said. “What if we say we need footage of Last Day Ceremony to play at graduation? They’re supposed to have a slideshow or video rolling as people find seats.”

  “Security footage at graduation?” Wes asked, reaching out to swing a low-hanging branch to the side of the path. “That’ll never fly. Not with the scandal of Roger Turley being on school grounds today.”

  “You have any other ideas?” I asked.

  “I might,” Wes said, looking at me.

  I ignored him and focused on Hannah, watching as she ducked under the arch of Wes’s arm, disappearing behind a thick of trees as she crossed from the trailhead back into our yard.

  I followed right behind her. As soon as I was out of the woods, I saw a boxy black-and-white police car parked dead-even between our house and Wes’s. An officer stood on the back porch of my house, looking through the screen door into the kitchen.

  “You think someone’s watching right now?” I asked. “Whoever wrote those notes said they’d know if I broke a rule.”

  “No way anyone can watch your every move,” Tripp said, his voice quiet, like he wasn
’t quite sure if he even believed it himself. “It’s an obvious bluff to control your moves. We have to tell the cops about Leena and this scavenger hunt, B.”

  I yanked my phone from my pocket to check the time. “How long do you think he’s been here?”

  “Stop freaking out,” Wes said. “Just act natural.”

  “That should be easy,” Hannah said with a snort, picking up the pace and leading the way across the yard.

  By the time we’d made it a third of the way, the cop saw us. He walked down the steps, and crossed the yard. As he got closer, I saw that it was Tiny Simmons, one of the officers who stood watch over the Last Day Ceremony. Tripp and he had played baseball together, Little Leagues and then select, all the way up until Tiny had graduated a few years ago.

  “Tripp,” Tiny said, giving my brother a nod, the sun glinting off the badge hanging from the front pocket of his dark blue shirt. “How you been?”

  “Good, man,” Tripp said. “You?”

  “Just fine.” Tiny hitched his pants higher on his waist.

  “You’re through your training?”

  “Yup. Officially Officer Simmons now.”

  Tripp smiled. “Your old man must be proud.”

  Tiny shrugged, his eyes skipping from Tripp to me. He waited several beats too long before he spoke. “I hear you have some evidence in the Bakersville case?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “But I usually talk to Detective Holly. Is he still in charge of the case?”

  Tiny’s lips twitched, pulling back into an eerie smile for a moment before dropping into a straight line again. “He’s working with Detective Gray, the lead from the FBI. They’re a little busy this afternoon. Holly asked me to drop by and see what you had to share.”

  “Oh,” I said, my skin crawling under Tiny’s gaze. I remembered that now. He’d always had a certain creep factor. And hadn’t there been something about him and the BHS computer lab and a raunchy porn site? As I stood there, I could picture Tripp in the kitchen, telling the story, laughing about how stupid Tiny had been to get caught.