he’d ordered something to eat while he was there.
Becky shakes her head. “But of course I know that’s ridiculous.”
Is it? If Adair was that angry at me for hanging around her boyfriend, she could have been livid at Hunter. During lunch, Max’s dislike for Hunter had rumbled like the waves that roll into Midway Beach. Either one of them could have sprinkled his food with something.
“What is it, Jade? You look like you thought of something.”
The beginning strains of a Murder by Death song ring out. Becky’s ring tone. The song usually reminds me of how Becky and I share a love of indie rock. Tonight the band’s name conjures up other images. Becky clicks on the phone.
“Hey, Mom.” Becky makes an effort not to sound freaked out. She listens for a while, then says, “Don’t worry. I’m getting ready to leave now. I‘ll be home as soon as I drop off Jade.”
I put the car in reverse and back out of the parking spot. As Becky finishes the call, I’m navigating the dark streets of Midway Beach.
“Don’t ask me how, buy my mom knows what happened at the arcade,” Becky says. “She wants me home. She kind of skipped worry and went straight to panic.”
I’ve got a different worry. It involves whether Max and Adair are at his place right now plotting to wreak more havoc on Midway Beach. Since I’d committed the address I found on his employment papers to memory, there’s one way to find out
Making my voice as casual as possible, I say, “How about I let you off at your house and get the car back to you tomorrow morning?”
“No, no. That’s okay. I’m fine to drive now. And I have a dentist appointment at nine a.m. tomorrow.” Becky, in fact, sounds stronger by the moment.
“I’ll get the car back to you in plenty of time.”
“It would be easier for me just to drop you.”
Max’s place is three or four miles from where I live, too far to travel by bike so late at night. There must be something I can say to convince her to let me have the car. “I’ll insist.”
“You never insist on anything. What’s with you, Jade? You aren’t telling me something.”
I’m not telling her a whole hell of a lot. I’m tempted to blurt out everything, but Becky reacts poorly whenever I mention anything to do with my lost forty-eight hours.
“I’ll make you a deal,” I say slowly. “If you let me take the car, I’ll explain everything in the morning.”
“Everything? Even what’s going on between you and Max Harper?”
Something makes me take my left hand off the wheel and covertly cross my fingers before I answer. “Even that.”
“Don’t make me regret this, Jade.”
She does, though. After I drop her off, Becky walks up the sidewalk to her house, repeatedly casting worried glances over her shoulder.
The address listed on Max’s employment form is in a section of town where tourists rent houses and condos by the week. The closer they are to the ocean, the more the vacation rentals cost. The place Max is renting is in a duplex about a mile from the beach. One of the units is dark while the other has a porch light shining.
I circle the block slowly, searching for Max’s white pickup truck or the blue Mazda Miata that Adair drives. I can’t spot either vehicle. To be on the safe side, I park three blocks from the duplex and skulk through the night, sticking to the shadows.
Clouds obscure the moon, blacking out the stars the same way they did on the night I disappeared. The street is eerily quiet with no traffic or signs of life from the neighborhood houses. If a black cat slinked into sight, the scene would be set for horror.
Thick bushes line the sidewalk, the perfect place for someone—or something—to hide. I brace myself for the unknown to jump out at me, like the clown did at the funhouse.
“Stop it!” I chastise myself. “There’s nothing to fear but fear itself.”
I grimace. Did I really quote FDR? Mr. Tannehill, who taught me A.P. history senior year, really
Becky shakes her head. “But of course I know that’s ridiculous.”
Is it? If Adair was that angry at me for hanging around her boyfriend, she could have been livid at Hunter. During lunch, Max’s dislike for Hunter had rumbled like the waves that roll into Midway Beach. Either one of them could have sprinkled his food with something.
“What is it, Jade? You look like you thought of something.”
The beginning strains of a Murder by Death song ring out. Becky’s ring tone. The song usually reminds me of how Becky and I share a love of indie rock. Tonight the band’s name conjures up other images. Becky clicks on the phone.
“Hey, Mom.” Becky makes an effort not to sound freaked out. She listens for a while, then says, “Don’t worry. I’m getting ready to leave now. I‘ll be home as soon as I drop off Jade.”
I put the car in reverse and back out of the parking spot. As Becky finishes the call, I’m navigating the dark streets of Midway Beach.
“Don’t ask me how, buy my mom knows what happened at the arcade,” Becky says. “She wants me home. She kind of skipped worry and went straight to panic.”
I’ve got a different worry. It involves whether Max and Adair are at his place right now plotting to wreak more havoc on Midway Beach. Since I’d committed the address I found on his employment papers to memory, there’s one way to find out
Making my voice as casual as possible, I say, “How about I let you off at your house and get the car back to you tomorrow morning?”
“No, no. That’s okay. I’m fine to drive now. And I have a dentist appointment at nine a.m. tomorrow.” Becky, in fact, sounds stronger by the moment.
“I’ll get the car back to you in plenty of time.”
“It would be easier for me just to drop you.”
Max’s place is three or four miles from where I live, too far to travel by bike so late at night. There must be something I can say to convince her to let me have the car. “I’ll insist.”
“You never insist on anything. What’s with you, Jade? You aren’t telling me something.”
I’m not telling her a whole hell of a lot. I’m tempted to blurt out everything, but Becky reacts poorly whenever I mention anything to do with my lost forty-eight hours.
“I’ll make you a deal,” I say slowly. “If you let me take the car, I’ll explain everything in the morning.”
“Everything? Even what’s going on between you and Max Harper?”
Something makes me take my left hand off the wheel and covertly cross my fingers before I answer. “Even that.”
“Don’t make me regret this, Jade.”
She does, though. After I drop her off, Becky walks up the sidewalk to her house, repeatedly casting worried glances over her shoulder.
The address listed on Max’s employment form is in a section of town where tourists rent houses and condos by the week. The closer they are to the ocean, the more the vacation rentals cost. The place Max is renting is in a duplex about a mile from the beach. One of the units is dark while the other has a porch light shining.
I circle the block slowly, searching for Max’s white pickup truck or the blue Mazda Miata that Adair drives. I can’t spot either vehicle. To be on the safe side, I park three blocks from the duplex and skulk through the night, sticking to the shadows.
Clouds obscure the moon, blacking out the stars the same way they did on the night I disappeared. The street is eerily quiet with no traffic or signs of life from the neighborhood houses. If a black cat slinked into sight, the scene would be set for horror.
Thick bushes line the sidewalk, the perfect place for someone—or something—to hide. I brace myself for the unknown to jump out at me, like the clown did at the funhouse.
“Stop it!” I chastise myself. “There’s nothing to fear but fear itself.”
I grimace. Did I really quote FDR? Mr. Tannehill, who taught me A.P. history senior year, really
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