Kill You Last Page 7

  Of course, I thought miserably, it was the dinner hour—the start of the nightly news cycle. Placing the BlackBerry on the table where Mom could read it, I reached for the remote and turned on the TV. But whatever the anonymous e-mailer had been writing about wasn’t on the local news, and I had to surf until I found it on a network channel, where a reporter was speaking to a young blonde woman named Destiny Charles.

  Destiny was cuter than the girl who’d been on TV that morning. At first her story sounded the same as the one we’d heard before: she’d been approached in a mall by a woman claiming to be a modeling agent. Later that day, she’d gone to the hotel with her mother and paid a lot for the styling, head shots, and credentials.

  “I guess now that one channel’s found a girl who fell for the scam, every channel has to have one,” I said bitterly.

  But I was wrong. There was more.

  “So what happened after that?” the interviewer asked.

  “About a week later, Mr. Sloan called and said he thought he had a modeling job for me, but he wanted to meet and talk about it first,” Destiny said.

  “And what did you say?”

  “I asked if my mom could come.”

  “And what did Mr. Sloan say?”

  “He said it would be better if we met alone.”

  I felt myself start to tighten up. Oh no. Oh God, please, no!

  “Did you ask why?”

  Destiny nodded. “He said that he wanted to see how I acted on my own, without my mom there, because they were looking for a girl who projected maturity and independence, and that sometimes when girls were with their moms, they acted more like daughters.”

  “So did you meet him alone?” the interviewer asked.

  Destiny shook her head. “I was scared. It didn’t sound right. I mean, if he wanted to see how I acted alone, why couldn’t my mom bring me and then wait outside or something?”

  “Did you suggest that?”

  “No. I didn’t think of that until later. I was too nervous on the phone.”

  “So something about the idea felt wrong to you?”

  “I wasn’t sure. I mean, it could have been true that I didn’t act as mature when my mom was around. I just didn’t know.”

  “But something about it felt wrong?” the interviewer repeated.

  Suddenly realizing that I’d been holding my breath, I let it out. “She’s putting words in her mouth. She’s trying to get her to say it felt wrong.”

  Mom watched silently.

  “I didn’t know,” Destiny said again. “I guess I just didn’t want to take a chance.”

  The interviewer thanked her and the camera shifted to an anchor behind a desk.

  “So I guess we’ll never really know why the photographer Kirby Sloan wanted to meet Destiny Charles alone,” the anchor said.

  “I spoke to several photographers at well-established studios, and none of them thought it sounded right,” the interviewer replied. “Most of them couldn’t think of a reason why the girl couldn’t have been asked to project maturity while her mother was there.”

  The anchor nodded but didn’t comment. Thus, the last idea left in everyone’s mind was what the interviewer had implied—that other photographers thought Dad’s reason for wanting to see Destiny alone sounded dubious.

  The show went to a commercial, and I muted the TV.

  “That doesn’t prove anything,” I said. “All that girl said was that Dad wanted to meet her alone. We don’t even know if she’s telling the truth. Maybe she made the whole thing up just to get on TV. People do that all the time. Or maybe she didn’t understand what Dad meant.”

  I waited for Mom to say something, but once again she seemed to be gone. As if her mind was a million miles away. “Mom?”

  She turned to me and blinked. “You’re right, dear, it doesn’t prove anything.”

  I studied her tired face. “You’re not just saying that, right? I mean, to protect me?”

  “From what?”

  “From the truth,” I said, puzzled that she didn’t seem to understand.

  “The truth,” she repeated woodenly.

  Suddenly, I felt a new concern. Was this all too much for her? For years she’d been pretending that everything in our family was perfect and that we were just like every other family. Was she coming apart, just as our world was?

  Chapter 19

  “MOM, ARE YOU okay?” I asked.

  Her expression changed, as if she realized I was studying her. She reached for the salad tongs and placed some greens on her plate. “Of course I am, darling. It’s just…this is…you know…a difficult time.” She picked up a slice of pizza and offered it to me. “But don’t worry, we’ll get through it. Another slice?”

  I accepted the slice even though I knew I didn’t have the appetite to take more than a few bites.

  “I was thinking that maybe we’d have a dinner party the weekend before Thanksgiving,” Mom said. “Invite the neighbors, you know?”

  It felt like time for a major reality check. Dad was being questioned by the police, and Mom was talking about a party? Did she really think the neighbors would want to come, given the awful news surrounding our family? Only if by then this whole mystery about the girls was cleared up and Dad’s innocence was proven.

  Mom was counting on that.

  So was I.

  We talked about whom we could invite. Because my parents hardly went out, they didn’t have a lot of friends in Soundview. There were some neighbors like the Sisks, and some women Mom met for book club every Thursday. For the most part, Dad’s friends were the same ones he’d had back when he worked in the city.

  After dinner I put the unfinished salad and pizza in the refrigerator, in case Dad was hungry when he got home. Back upstairs it was hard not to go online, but I really didn’t want to communicate with anyone. As I did my homework, I kept expecting a text from Roman, and I was surprised when none arrived. Had she not heard the news? Had she heard it and was trying to be sensitive? Or had she gone out? After all, it was Friday.

  Later I heard the back door open downstairs and knew Dad was home. I found him in the kitchen pouring tequila into a shot glass.

  “Hey, sweetheart.” He looked and sounded worn out.

  “Hi, Dad.” I knew I sounded glum.

  He took a sip. “Guess I don’t have to ask what’s wrong.”

  “What did the police want to know?”

  “What you’d expect,” he said. “Did I have anything to do with the missing girls? Did I know anything about why they were missing? Did I have any idea where they were? That kind of stuff. Don’t worry, I passed. Questions, lie-detector test, whole nine yards.”

  “Lie detector?” I repeated, surprised.

  He took a long sip and, despite his obvious fatigue, winked mischievously. He’d passed! He was innocent! For a split second I felt an urge to throw my arms around his neck, but the memory of what I’d seen earlier on TV stopped me. “Dad, while you were down at the police station? There was something on TV. A girl who you signed up for modeling. She said you wanted to meet her alone.”

  Dad’s eyebrows rose curiously. “No kidding? Did they say why?”

  “No, but it was kind of implied.”

  He scowled for an instant as if he didn’t understand, then smirked as if he did. “Ah, the old casting-couch routine. And where was this alleged assignation supposed to take place?”

  “She didn’t say,” I said.

  Dad nodded as if he wasn’t surprised, then took another sip. “So she said I wanted to meet her alone, but the meeting never took place.” He shook his head. “Talk about kicking a guy when he’s down.”

  I almost said, “So it’s not true?” But it was obvious from the way Dad was acting that it wasn’t.

  He gazed up at the ceiling with a reflective expression. “Know what? I can’t say I blame them.”

  I stared at him in shock. “What? Why?”

  “Because it’s business, sweetheart. TV stations m
ake money by selling ads. And to sell ads, they need viewers; and to get viewers, they have to have a good story. And even when you’ve got a good story, you better have some new twist on it every evening at six, or the viewers are going to switch channels until they find a station that does.”

  He was right, of course. That’s exactly what I’d done at dinner—switched channels until I found the one with the story about this girl who claimed Dad wanted to meet her alone.

  “It’s sick,” I said.

  “Yeah, well, it’s also life,” he said in a resigned tone. “Better get used to it.”

  It was getting late, and I was exhausted from the accumulated stresses of the past days, so I kissed Dad on the cheek and went upstairs. Basically, the news was good. Dad was innocent as far as those missing girls were concerned. Feeling better about his situation, I decided to go online. It turned out that Roman had just gotten on, and I told her how Dad had passed the lie-detector test.

  “But you know they’re not reliable,” she said. “You see them on TV and in the movies because it’s dramatic, but you can’t convict someone just because they failed a lie-detector test.”

  “But Dad didn’t fail, he passed.”

  “Same difference. Just because you pass doesn’t mean you’re innocent. They probably gave it to him to see how he’d react. Like maybe he’d get scared and confess on the spot. That’s happened, you know. And I mean, you can go online and learn about ways to beat a lie detector.”

  “I’m sure Dad didn’t do that,” I said. “He didn’t even know they were going to give him the test until he got to the police station.”

  “Hmmm.” Roman made that sound, and I knew she was going to change the subject. “So…I…saw that girl Destiny on TV before. I mean, I understand totally if you don’t want to talk about it.”

  I felt my face grow warm. “She admitted that nothing happened. You don’t even know if she’s telling the truth.”

  “You think she’d just make it up?” Roman asked.

  It was strange how, when Dad had scoffed at the idea, I’d been so eager to believe that Destiny was just looking for publicity. But now that Roman asked the question, the publicity angle felt less likely.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted.

  “Maybe you’re right,” Roman said. “If nothing happened, maybe it doesn’t matter.”

  But I felt my spirits go into a free fall. “It’s still bad news heaped on bad news.”

  On the screen, Roman sighed sympathetically. “I think we should go out and have fun tomorrow.”

  “I don’t know if I can, Romy.”

  “Right, Shels. Which is exactly why you should. You can’t spend the whole weekend hiding in your house.”

  “So what would you suggest?”

  Roman held up a credit card and gave me a big smile. “Go shopping, what else?”

  “Not at the Soundview Mall. I don’t want to spend the whole time worrying about running into people I don’t want to see.”

  “Let’s go up to Stamford,” Roman suggested. “It’s just as nice as Soundview, and hardly anyone from around here goes there.”

  She was right. The worst thing I could do was hang around the house waiting and worrying about whatever was going to happen next.

  Chapter 20

  “YOU HAVE TO buy that top,” Roman said at Vintage Vogue the next morning.

  It was the cutest ruffled chiffon tank, and I was completely in want with it, but then I checked the price tag and shook my head.

  “But it loves you, and you’ll look great in it,” Roman insisted.

  I put it back on the rack. “Don’t want to spend the money.”

  “Since when?”

  I cocked my head and gave her a look as if to say, “Think about it.”

  “Oh.” Roman pressed her fingers to her lips. “You mean because of what’s happening?”

  “It’s not like Dad’s doing any business,” I said as we left the store. Then, even though there was no one around, I lowered my voice. “He only did what he did to make the money we needed to live the way we do. So now I feel like it’s partly my fault.”

  “Why didn’t he just tell you not to spend as much?”

  “Apparently, that’s not how the male ego works. The great hunter is supposed to kill enough game to feed his family.”

  Roman stopped. “Does the great hunter ever say what he thinks happened to those missing girls?”

  “He has no idea.”

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  “I think if something bad happened to them, it almost has to have something to do with Dad’s business. It can’t be just a coincidence. So if Dad doesn’t know anything about them, then someone who works with him must. And that’s a seriously scary and upsetting idea.”

  “That would be Gabriel, Janet, and I forget the other one’s name?”

  “Mercedes. Only I can’t imagine what she could have to do with it. All she cares about is her little boy.”

  “So that leaves Gabriel or Janet.”

  “Exactly.”

  Roman gave me a sideways look as we started to walk. “What are you thinking?”

  “Maybe I can get Gabriel to tell me a few things.”

  Roman frowned, then her eyebrows shot skyward as she realized what I was implying. “Don’t tell me. Look out, Nancy Drew, here comes Shelby Sloan, girl detective?”

  “I’m serious,” I said.

  “Seriously whacked.” Her voice reeked of disapproval. “And just suppose that Gabriel really is behind those girls’ disappearing. Then what?”

  “I tell the police.”

  “Oh, sure.” She chuckled caustically. “He’s just going to stand by and let you do that.”

  “I’m not going to be obvious about it.”

  “I would so love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation,” Roman said. “Only seriously, sista? If he’s involved with those missing girls, you could find yourself in some very deep doo-doo.”

  I was about to reply that I planned to be extra careful, when I noticed a pack of girls gathered around a perfume kiosk. They were all juniors from Soundview High, and it looked as if a moment ago they’d been trying the fragrances. But now they all stared at Roman and me. Well, at me mostly. And given the recent news, it wasn’t hard to figure out why.

  Roman tugged at my sleeve and we turned away. “So much for going someplace where no one would know you,” she muttered.

  “I can’t get used to people looking at me that way,” I said, feeling ire rise above the other emotions churning inside me. “I mean, not only is it incredibly rude, but it feels like they’re blaming me. Like it’s my fault.”

  “It’s just the way people are,” Roman said. “If I were you, I’d give it right back to them.”

  I stopped, surprised. “Why?”

  “Because every time you slink away, it looks like you’re admitting guilt.”

  She was right. I glanced in the direction of the perfume kiosk. “Should I go back?”

  “No. The moment’s passed. But now that this has happened, you might as well go to the party tonight.”

  I stared at her. “Now, that’s a logical segue.…Not.”

  “All I’m saying is, now that you’ve dealt with this, nothing worse is going to happen.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. Sometimes Roman could be so crazy. “That has to be the most illogical thing you’ve ever said.”

  “Maybe, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t also true.”

  “You just don’t want to go alone,” I said.

  Roman linked arms with me. “Actually, I will go alone. Because you’ll go with Gabriel.”

  Chapter 21

  I ASKED ROMAN how—in less than two minutes—she’d gone from not wanting me to have anything to do with Gabriel to suggesting I invite him to the party that night.

  “When I said I didn’t think you should go anywhere near him, did you listen?” she asked.

  I admitted I hadn’t.

/>   “Exactly,” she said. “So invite him to the party. At least there’ll be lots of people around, so you’ll be safe, and besides, now I’m curious. I mean, how many times in life do you get to meet someone who could really be a bad guy?”

  “So now I’m an excuse for your vicarious thrills?” I groaned, only half seriously.

  Roman laughed. “Come on, Shels. What else are you good for?”

  Later, when I called Gabriel and invited him to Courtney’s party, he first sounded surprised, then mumbled something about having things to do but that he might be able to find time to drop by.

  Despite Roman’s weird logic, I still wasn’t thrilled about going to the party, especially when the first person I saw was my old friend Ashley, who was part of Tara Kraus’s posse. Ashley was a tall, pretty girl, with a red streak in her dark brown hair. She was shy and quiet until she got to know you. We’d been best friends in middle school, but then her dad lost his job and they’d had to sell their house and move into a small apartment in town. After that, she and I had drifted apart. These days, Ashley left school early to work at a nearby amusement park called Playland. Knowing she was at the party wasn’t really a problem for me. The problem was that if Ashley was there, it was reasonable to expect that Tara would show up, too.

  Since Tara wasn’t there yet and Ashley and I were both alone, I thought it might be nice to go over and say hello. I’d just started through the crowd toward her when Gabriel strolled out of the kitchen with a beer.

  “Hey, there you are.” He grinned. “How come you look so surprised?”

  “I … I just didn’t think you’d get here before me.”

  “I got everything done faster than I thought I would,” he said. He was wearing a black blazer, with a black shirt and jeans. I couldn’t help noticing that, in comparison, the other guys at the party looked like schoolboys. Once again I felt people’s eyes on me, but this time the girls stared with expressions of envy and curiosity.

  And I wasn’t the only one who was aware of the stares. So was Gabriel. He actually seemed to enjoy them. While we talked, his eyes darted about, as if keeping score of who was watching.