ZACH DRANK JACK DANIEL’S STRAIGHT FROM the bottle. The long bicycle chain wrapped around his knuckles scraped the glass when he sipped. “Heard you was talking junk about us. And you’re here with my girl.”
He shattered the bottle on the deck, splashing my shoes with backwash.
It could’ve been for show, him being a big man in front of his lackeys. But I didn’t think so. Not the way Dee and Dum kept trading furtive looks, or the way Russ kept glancing at the path like he wanted to chase Callie. They didn’t want to be a part of this, because Zach planned to do something worse than bloody my nose in the locker room.
His chain jingled.
Maybe they’d all been drinking. If I moved fast, I could probably beat them back to the party, where they’d be less likely to jump me. That was a good plan. A smart plan.
Instead, I took two running steps, made as if I was breaking right, and when Zach Lynch moved to intercept me, I stopped short and punched him in the spot below where the ribs met the sternum. He went bug-eyed, doubled over. With him off balance, I grabbed both of his shoulders for leverage, then rammed my knee into his balls.
First move Bricks ever taught me.
It took Zach and his crew by surprise, but their shock wouldn’t last.
I ran at Dum. He tried to juke to one side, but I grabbed his arm, used his momentum to spin him around, then kicked him in his Achilles tendon. His leg shot up like a punter’s and he landed flat on his back.
With two down, I had my best shot at escaping. I ran, craning my neck to make sure no one followed. Bad move. Callie had led me to the pond, pushing aside low-hanging branches as she went.
When I faced forward I ran full speed into an oak branch slung across the path.
It caught me in the mouth, put me horizontal to the path before dropping me on my tailbone. Dee pounced and held me until his friends recovered.
Pinned to the ground, viewing things upside down, I saw Zach approach, massaging his crotch and swinging his chain. He didn’t talk, or threaten.
The whine of a low-powered motor interrupted the sound of that chain cutting the air. Light flashed on us, halting Zach.
“Back off, Lynch,” said Lorenz, his mousy voice always odd coming from his huge frame. He stepped from a clownish-looking golf cart. Carrey followed, as did the wheelman, Dustin.
Zach said, “What are you doing here, Burke?”
“This is where I live. And Callie can’t shut up about how clever you guys are. Figured I’d better get down here.”
“This don’t have nothing to do with y’all,” Zach said.
Dustin. “My house. My party. It’s all about me.”
Zach’s chest heaved. “This pussy has been disrespecting me ever since he got here. All in my girl’s face. I’m supposed to let that ride?”
“I think you’re confused about a couple of things.”
Lorenz and Carrey helped me off the ground while Zach contemplated his next move.
He took a step toward me, still swinging that chain. Dustin signaled to Lorenz.
The big guy leveled Zach with a punch.
“Go home,” Dustin told the rest of Zach Lynch’s crew, “and take him with you.”
Carrey and Lorenz walked me to the cart, kept me upright since I was still shaken from the tree branch. I took the seat next to the mayor’s son. They sat in the back.
Zach rolled around in some dead leaves, groaning. His neutered friends circled their fallen idol.
“They won’t bother you anymore tonight,” Dustin said.
No, not tonight, but this wasn’t over. With guys like Zach Lynch it never was.
Dustin puttered us back to the party, where the crowd was thinning. He noticed me noticing.
“Beer’s gone,” he said.
Dustin parked the cart. We entered a rec room, where stragglers abused all the things that didn’t belong to them. I scanned faces for Reya but didn’t see her.
I said, “I thought you were grounded. Where’s your dad?”
“Business trip to D.C. He goes up a lot, and he can’t rule with an iron fist when he’s MIA.” He held up a loaded key chain. “I’ve got the keys to the kingdom. Liquor cabinet, Beamer.”
“You’re not worried about getting in more trouble?”
“Life’s short.” He led us toward the foyer and the roped-off staircases. He ducked under the barrier, as did Lorenz and Carrey. I hesitated.
“It’s cool,” Dustin said. “Come on.”
I followed them up to Dustin’s room. Or apartment. It was massive, four of my bedrooms put together. I could see a jetted freaking tub through his open bathroom door. If this was what Dustin’s space was like, I imagined the mayor’s having a retractable dome roof like Cowboys Stadium.
Lorenz flopped on the unmade California king and rummaged through the drawer on Dustin’s nightstand.
“Lorenz,” Dustin said. “Stop going through my stuff.”
Lorenz rolled his eyes and grabbed the new Sports Illustrated. When he lay back, he froze, sniffed. “Dawg, why’s your bed smell like vanilla ice cream?”
“Alexis Carter works at the Cold Stone in Portside Mall,” he said, matter-of-fact. “She brought samples.”
Lorenz scrambled off the dirtier-than-he’d-anticipated sheets, and Carrey crowed, “Pimp!”
Dustin shrugged off the conquest. “I do what I can.”
I fought the need to say something that might sound weird, like, How was it?, reminding me how little experience I had with my peers. I could trash talk the sheriff but couldn’t get into a conversation on teen sex.
Thankfully, Dustin changed the subject. Sort of. “So, you and Reya?”
There was a moment of panic when I thought he was asking if me and Reya had done it. But he showed me his phone, the screen filled with a photo of me and her arriving at the party, taken and sent by someone with too much time on their hands. Reya looked red-carpet worthy in the picture. I looked lost.
“Yeah, we came together.”
He examined the picture like a jeweler examines a diamond. “That ass is lookin’ fine, dude.”
“That ass” had a name, and I had a knee-jerk urge to break Dustin’s nose. Again, I reminded myself that this was normal guy talk. And he just saved me from Zach. Chill, Nick.
Lorenz powered on Dustin’s flat screen and popped in a Blu-ray. Carrey surfed the web on the opposite side of the room. While they were occupied, I said, “You want to talk in the hall or something? About Eli?”
“For what?” Lorenz said, fiddling with the media center controls. “His conspiracy theories are a rerun to us.”
I had no idea what that meant. I wasn’t in the dark for long.
Dustin said, “I told you I met him that Friday, right?”
I nodded.
“As soon as I got to his newspaper dungeon, Eli starts in on how my dad is a crooked politician and when he exposes him, it’s going to be the story of the century. Eli was all like, I shouldn’t have dissed him and I’ll remember all the f’ed up stuff I did when I’m on the streets and he’s living in a big house. It was crazy talk.”
I wanted to say that didn’t sound like Eli. But I couldn’t get over his attempt to plant me in Dustin’s last party as his inside man. Everything I had learned since Eli died suggested he had dirt on the mayor then and was looking for more. If Whispertown was all about Mayor Burke’s shady crime stats, Eli planned to blow the whole thing up. He’d told me that himself.
Eli could be manipulative when he needed to be. Reya and Dustin confirmed he had no problem invading someone’s privacy.
I said, “What’d you do?”
Dustin looked away, ashamed. “I pushed him. Man, I was going to beat him down.”
I thought back to how I found Eli, the desk knocked off its book supports. Was that how it happened?
“You didn’t though?”
“No. I felt it building up in me and I backed off. I—I don’t like to use my hands like that.” Absently, he touched the darkening bruise around his eye. “I left.”
“Wait, so Eli was fine the last time you saw him?”
“The last time I saw him, sure.”
What did that mean? “You’re losing me. If Eli was alive the last time you saw him, what was the point of that story? Why the ‘Nick, you need to know’?”
“Because when I came home, I told my dad about what happened.” Dustin’s phone buzzed, and he checked an incoming text. With his eyes on the screen, he said, “I told my dad.”
No need to repeat. I got it the first time.