Natalie pulled into the high school parking lot and cut the engine. The main building was composed of once-fashionable yellow brick with granite columns and archways. JFK had an excellent reputation. Their SAT average was outstanding, according to Grace, and their ACT average was one of the highest in the state. Sixty-five percent of the graduates went on to college, and every year more than a dozen seniors got into Harvard, Princeton, and Yale. In that sort of competitive climate, the Rileys of this world simply couldn’t cut it.
She checked the time: 2:30 P.M. The final bell rang, the doors shot open, and the yellow brick building burped out an endless parade of students wearing the same elated look. Natalie spotted Ellie and waved.
Ellie said good-bye to her friends and came right over. “Hey, Aunt Natalie,” she said, getting in and slamming the door, depositing her book bag on the floor and buckling her seat belt. “Thanks for the lift.”
“No problem. How’d it go today?”
Ellie’s shoulders slumped. The only touch of color in her all-black outfit were two pink barrettes taming her wild black hair. “We had the remembrance ceremony. Everyone was crying. It was really sad. They told us there was a grief counselor available, but I didn’t feel like talking to a stranger about it.” Ellie chewed on her thumbnail and glanced over at Natalie. “Do they know what happened yet?”
She shook her head. “We’re still piecing it together.”
“But you’re going to find out who did this to her, right?”
“Absolutely,” she reassured her.
Ellie rubbed her wrist and stared transfixed out the window. “I couldn’t find my bracelet. I looked everywhere for it. Chemistry, gym class, homeroom. The lost-and-found box was full of these disgusting sweaters and scarves from last winter.”
“Maybe you left it at home?” Natalie suggested.
She shook her head. “I wore it to school this morning.”
“And you don’t remember losing it?”
“Well, I had gym for second period. When I looked in my locker, it was gone.”
“I’m sorry, Ellie.” Natalie had already decided that she would surprise her niece with another scarab bracelet for her sweet sixteen. She took a deep breath, reluctant to use this ride home as an opportunity for another interview, but she had no choice. “I heard you were at Berkley’s house yesterday afternoon. Did Riley Skinner show up there?”
“No.” Ellie said, wrinkling her nose. “Why?”
“What can you tell me about him?”
“Riley?” The girl powered down her window and let her hair blow loosely around her shoulders. “Riley does whatever he wants. He doesn’t live by the same rules as the rest of us. He’s got this…”
“What?”
Ellie stared blankly at the passing scenery. They were driving past the lake, visible through the thinning trees, where road signs warned about the dangers of cliff diving on Devil’s Point. To the north of the cliffs were miles of thick, desolate woods, part of the vast state forest.
“What is it, Ellie?”
The girl shifted uncomfortably, tugging on her seat belt. “When I first met him, he sort of scared me. He was reading this book called American Psycho, mostly to intimidate people, I think. He’s from the wrong side of the tracks, and his father went to prison, so I tried to avoid him. But he and India were friends, so I couldn’t ignore him every single time. And after I got to know him, I realized he wasn’t as crazy or weird as most people thought. It made me realize how much we judge others by their appearances and … I don’t know.” She shrugged. “We’re all so locked into our own tribes. Jocks, geeks, witches, stoners, nerds … it’s depressing, when you think about it.”
Natalie nodded empathetically. “So Riley and India are friends?”
“They used to be pretty close last year,” Ellie said. “But India didn’t want to hang out with him anymore, so she told him to give her some space, and now she treats him like he’s her stalker. No means no, right? But I can sort of understand his confusion.”
“You sympathize with him?”
“A little. She led him on for a long time, then just dumped him.”
“How close were they before? Boyfriend and girlfriend close?”
Ellie gazed out the window while the wind blew her hair around, and Natalie could see the tips of her ears burning. “You know what I hate, Aunt Natalie? I hate how judgmental people can be. Too many kids at school size you up by how much money your parents have. Do you wear the right clothes? Listen to the right music? Think the right thoughts? Are you worthy of their company? There’s this girl in my history class who gets picked on all the time for wearing knitted-by-mom sweaters. But I mean, her mother did it out of love.”
“Some things never change,” Natalie said softly.
Ellie’s hair caught the sunlight. “Was it like that when you were growing up?”
Natalie nodded. “Human nature can be very predictable.”
“It sucks.”
“Big-time.”
Ellie’s phone buzzed, and she checked her messages. “It’s Mom.” Her fingers danced over the buttons. After a quick exchange, she put her phone away.
Natalie glanced expectantly at her niece. “So Riley isn’t part of India’s tribe?”
“She used to really like him. But not anymore.”
“Is that why they have the same tattoo?”
The girl’s eyes widened with alarm. “How do you know about that?”
“I saw it on her wrist—a rose surrounded by barbed wire. I saw Riley’s, too.”
Instead of answering the question, Ellie asked, “How is he?”
“Stable but critical condition.”
“What does that mean? Is he going to be okay?”
“Dr. Swinton doesn’t know yet. But Riley’s getting the best medical care possible.” She glanced at her niece with deep concern. “Ellie, is it possible Riley could’ve hurt someone? Out of a sense of rejection?”
“No,” she said, hugging her slender arms. “I don’t get it, how people can say he killed Ms. Buckner, because she cared about him and was trying to help him.”
Natalie nodded. “Is there anybody else at school Daisy was having problems with? Any other students or teachers? I’m just wondering if—”
“We had a debate in Ms. Buckner’s class last week about the executions.”
“Executions?”
“Those three witches weren’t burned at the stake,” Ellie said a little feverishly, brushing the hair off her forehead. “It was illegal to burn people at the stake … in England and all the colonies, including America. Which is why at the Salem witch trials they hanged the accused, or else they pressed them to death with huge stones. I mean, they burned witches in other parts of Europe, but not here in Burning Lake. Those three women were hung to death, and then afterwards their bodies were burned on the pyre.”
“Right. That’s true. But what does this have to do with Daisy?”
“We had a big argument about it in class, and people took sides, getting really emotional and almost yelling. It was so stupid. Half the class believes they were burned at the stake, despite all the evidence to the contrary.”
“It’s one of the most hotly debated topics in town—”
“There’s nothing to debate,” Ellie interrupted, rolling her eyes.
“History is loaded with myths,” Natalie told her gently.
“Loaded with BS, you mean.”
“Myths can be stronger than facts.”
“Well, I guess it’s trendy to burn witches nowadays. I mean, where the hell would we be if we couldn’t burn witches in effigy every Halloween? How would the town survive? Who’d come to see them hang a bunch of mannequins?”
“Good point.” Natalie tried to think of something wise and comforting to say, but she was worried for Ellie—where was all this deflection coming from? “Are you saying that one of the students got angry at Daisy during this debate? Did one of the students act out inappropriately?”
“No,” she said, her face flushing. “Half the class was pissed off at the other half. Ms. Buckner tried to remind us that not every disagreement has a resolution. It’s just that … I think we should honor the dead by telling the truth about how they died, rather than capitalizing on their pain.” Ellie looked sorrowfully at Natalie. Tears in her eyes.
“What’s wrong, sweetie? Why are you so upset?”
“I’ve been having awful dreams lately, where I’m tied to the stake like a witch, and I’m standing on a pyre of wood, and there’s no escape. People are laughing at me. They’re holding torches, and they want me dead.”
Natalie nodded, concerned for her.
“Then one of them lights the fire, and flames shoot up all around me, and I can hear my flesh sizzling … and I wake up screaming.”
“It’s just a nightmare,” Natalie said, not wanting her niece to hurt like this but wondering what was behind it.
“The worst part is—” She shook it off. “Never mind.”
“What, Ellie? Tell me.”
She turned away and said, “We’re here.”
Natalie pulled into Grace’s driveway and parked behind the Mini Cooper. “Ellie, why did you bring this up? What are you trying to say?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Ellie unbuckled her seat belt and got out.
Too much too soon, Natalie realized. She had crowded her niece. Ellie needed time to process her emotions, and yet Natalie couldn’t stop hammering her with questions.
Out here on Crenshaw Road, the woods nibbled at the edges of the green suburbs. Grace’s handsome post-and-beam-style home had three bedrooms, two and a half bathrooms, and a heated garage. Open-concept living/dining/kitchen. A beautiful marble en suite on the upper level. Vaulted ceilings and natural woodwork. The house was ten years old. The fluffy clouds had blown away, and the air was crystal clear.
Grace greeted them at the door, but Ellie brushed right past her mother and disappeared into the house. “How was school?” Grace called after her.
“Lousy,” Ellie said before hurrying up the stairs.
“How was the remembrance ceremony?” Grace asked.
“Terrible, Mom. Everyone was sobbing. I could hardly breathe. Thanks for the ride, Aunt Natalie,” she said from the top of the stairs. Moments later, her bedroom door thumped shut.
“Sorry I missed it,” Grace said softly. “Come on in, Natalie.”
“Thanks.” Natalie wiped her shoes on the welcome mat.
Grace led the way inside, saying, “Sorry, but I’m an emotional wreck today. I can’t seem to focus on anything. Want some coffee?”
“Love a cup.”
“Follow me.”
They went into the kitchen. Top-of-the-line stainless-steel appliances. Italian marble backsplash. Teak-and-leather bar stools hugging the kitchen island. Grace lived in one of the wealthier neighborhoods, along with people who yielded considerable influence in this town—doctors, bankers, lawyers, managers, consultants. Burke’s alimony and child support payments provided Grace and Ellie with an effort-free lifestyle, but it didn’t guarantee happiness. Grace was comfortable and her future was secure, but she wasn’t exactly Ms. Happy. Sometimes Natalie detected an aura of melancholy tremoring around Grace’s edges.
“Is now a good time to talk?” Natalie asked, hoping her sister wouldn’t say no. Grace was the only person besides Brandon who knew almost everything there was to know about Daisy.
“Yeah, sure.” Grace didn’t look well—disheveled hair pulled into a sloppy ponytail, nails bitten to the quick, eyes swollen from crying.
Natalie took out her notebook and pen, and Grace handed her a steaming mug of coffee.
“Let’s go into the living room.”
She followed her sister into the living room, juggling everything in her hands—coffee, napkin, spoon, pen, notebook.
“I really wanted to be there for my students today, but I didn’t want to melt down in front of them,” Grace explained, curling up on the sofa. “Ellie’s handling it pretty well, but I didn’t sleep a wink.”
Natalie took a sip of her French roast and put everything down on the glass-topped coffee table. “Walk me through Daisy’s schedule. Tell me about her typical day. What happens?”
“Oh God.” Grace folded her slender legs underneath her. “What happens? Let’s see. Daisy and I are usually the first to arrive. We’re the early birds, I guess. We get to school around six fifteen, make a pot of coffee, and vent in the faculty lounge. That’s our together time. We trade war stories and laugh a lot. Sometimes we get frustrated at the administration, because they keep changing the rules on us. So many forms to fill out. So much paperwork. We gripe and kvetch. Then we wish each other luck and go our separate ways.”
“And then what?”
“I head upstairs to my classroom and run around like a crazy person, trying to get things organized before the kids show up. Plug in my laptop, check my emails, stack the class assignments, write the highlights on the board.”
“What did you and Daisy talk about yesterday morning?”
Grace shrugged. “Nothing special.”
“She didn’t mention her problems with Riley?”
“No.” She shook her head. “We talked about things that would’ve been boring to anyone but us. Class size, student-teacher ratios. She mentioned her new barbecue. The baby, of course. By the way, she swore me to secrecy, Natalie, otherwise I would’ve told you right away. But anyway, the subject of Riley never came up.”
“Why not?”
“Well, the outburst happened a few weeks ago, and things had quieted down since then. I figured everything was chill. Guess I was wrong.”
Natalie nodded. “So what happens on a typical Wednesday?”
“The buses pull up, the kids come pouring out, and it’s chaos from that point on.” Grace smiled sadly. “My first class is at seven thirty. They last about fifty minutes. There are four periods before lunch, which is at eleven thirty. After lunch, there’s a planning period for teachers and a study hall for the students. I usually grade papers during that time.”
“When did Daisy leave school yesterday?”
“Gee, I don’t know.” She frowned. “I think she left around the same time I did.”
“When was that?”
“Two thirty on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. But on Tuesdays and Thursdays, we’ll stay until three thirty to help those kids who are struggling with the material. At the end of those extra-long days, Daisy and I will meet up again to chat. But yesterday was Wednesday, so we didn’t stay late.”
“And you didn’t see her leave the building?” Natalie asked.
“No.”
“Was her car in the lot?”
“I didn’t see it there.”
“So she may have left before you?” Natalie asked.
“It looks like it.”
“And you didn’t contact her afterwards? No phone calls or text messages?”
“No. I had a lot of errands to run. I was preoccupied with the deathiversary.”
Natalie nodded. “Right.”
Grace plucked a tissue out of the box on the coffee table and said, “Can we get this over with? Do you mind, Natalie? Is that selfish of me?”
“No, I’ll try to keep it brief,” Natalie promised. “Did Daisy ever fear for her safety around Riley or any other students?”
“Fear? No.”
“She wasn’t afraid to be alone with Riley, for instance, after class?”
Grace reached for her big leather bag on the floor, then plopped it on the sofa next to her, and rummaged around for her cigarettes. She held the pack in her hand. “Maybe. I don’t know. I mean, Daisy wasn’t naïve, but she believed in second chances. She trusted in her ability to reach even the most troubled kids. Remember Jenny Barber and Dunham O’Brien? Everybody had written them off for good, but Daisy got them into college. She was such an empathetic person. She hated giving up on anyone. So if Riley wanted to talk to her after class, despite the issues between them, then yes … I can picture her feeling okay with that.”
“Even after he called her a cunt?”
“No, I think after that incident, she became a little wary of him. But that didn’t stop her from trying to help him. Daisy was pretty fearless. I’m not saying she’d embrace him or anything like that, but…” Her voice trailed off.
Natalie jotted it down. “Are the Buckners in the habit of keeping their doors unlocked?”
Grace leaned back. “You remember the Foresters, right? They hardly ever locked their doors. It wasn’t so unusual back in the nineties. Daisy’s mom loved having people over, and a bunch of us kids used to traipse through the house without knocking. They’d only lock their doors at night, or if they went on vacation. Daisy’s the same way.”
“No other difficult students? No other problems or concerns?”
“Well, there are always problems and concerns. There are always difficult students. But nothing that comes to mind.” Grace put down the pack of cigarettes, reached for her coffee, and took a small sip. “I heard Riley was in a coma. Is he going to make it?”
“It could go either way.”
“Really?”
“Dr. Swinton says he doesn’t know.”
“Maybe it’s karma?” Grace put down her coffee and wrung her hands. “Oh God, I don’t want to be that person … it’s not like I want him to die or anything.”
“We’re all that person sometimes,” Natalie said sympathetically.
“I mean, if he killed her…” Her eyes teared up. She plucked a tissue from the box and pressed it to her runny nose. “But who else could’ve done it?”
Which led Natalie to her next question. “Was Daisy happy in her marriage?”
“Happy? Yeah, of course. Why?” she asked apprehensively.
“No complaints? Just covering all the bases.”
“As far as I know, she was thrilled to be pregnant. It was a significant milestone for her, given her history. It was a blessing.”
“No marriage is perfect,” Natalie countered. “She must’ve complained a little…”
“She hardly ever complained about Brandon. She loved him, Natalie. He’s a good provider, very loyal. Sure, he has his faults, but he made her laugh. It’s so fucking tragic. She would’ve made a great mom.”
Natalie’s phone buzzed. It was Luke. “Sorry, I have to take this.”
“Sure.” Grace daubed at her eyes.
“We’ve identified the blood on Riley’s hoodie as A-positive, same blood type as Daisy’s,” Luke said. “Riley is AB-positive, and Brandon is O-negative—so we can rule them both out as the source. We also found blister packets at Haymarket Field with Riley’s prints on them. And a witness came forward identifying a vehicle speeding away from the Buckner residence last night that matches Riley’s Camaro. It’s enough to get a warrant. We’re about to serve papers on the Skinner residence, and I need you to be there. Meet me two blocks west of the property on O’Dell Road.”
“Okay, on my way.” She hung up. “Sorry, Grace. I have to go.”
Her sister walked her to the door. They paused on the threshold, and Grace gave her a heartfelt hug. “I worry about you, kid.”
Natalie smiled. Grace hadn’t called her “kid” in years. “You, too, Grace.”
“Be careful out there.”
Grace was the person who taught Natalie how to insert a tampon, how to get past Deborah’s rules. Grace showed her how to tie her hair in a French knot and buy the most ironic T-shirts at Walmart. When Natalie was twelve, before Grace went off to college, they’d sit by the open window, blowing the cigarette smoke outside and waving their hands so their mother couldn’t smell it. Grace and Deborah didn’t get along. Grace felt unloved, but Natalie loved her sister with all her heart and soul.
Now Natalie wiped the sweat off her brow and said, “Get some rest, sweetie.”