21. Ridiculous Timing

You know how sometimes you’ll be walking toward someone in a crowd and they’re looking your way, but you know for a fact that they’re not really looking at you? Right? This happens after school on Wednesday as I’m walking out the glass doors, talking with Kelsey. We see a woman at the base of the stairs staring up at us. She’s wearing dress pants and a fancy leather jacket and is probably thirtysomething. She looks tough but attractive. She stands out, since very few African Americans work at Harrington.

Her dark eyes don’t seem to leave me, and I actually start to feel a bit nervous walking down to the parking lot.

“Chris Buckley?” she calls out.

I nod.

She comes up to us. “My name is Diane Banks. Do you have a few minutes?”

“I’ll call you later,” Kelsey tells me.

I nod at her and then glance at the woman. I know what she’s about to say.

It’s something to do with my mom. She relapsed. Or maybe she killed herself.

“I’m with the FBI,” Diane tells me.

I almost want to laugh as I wait for more.

“Can we go back into the school for a few minutes?”

“What’s this about?” I ask.

“I will explain inside.”

She’s no-nonsense, and she appears like a well-put-together business lady. Someone who fits downtown Chicago, not any place around Solitary.

We go back inside out of the cold, and for a minute I wonder if she’s going to lead me into Principal Harking’s office. Instead, she walks into the first unoccupied classroom and turns on the light.

“I just want a little privacy,” she says.

I slowly walk into the room, and she shuts the door.

“Chris, please, have a seat.”

“I can stand.”

She nods, then scans the room before taking out a card and giving it to me.

“That’s my card,” Diane says.

“Do you have a badge?”

“Do you need to see it?”

I think about it for a moment, then shrug. She reaches into her jacket and pulls out a wallet, then shows me a badge inside.

“Anybody can reproduce one of these,” she says. “Or can come up with a card. That’s my information on there—my cell phone where you can reach me.”

Her skin is flawless, like a model or something. I want to tell her she’s too good-looking to be an FBI agent.

Of course, I don’t.

“What’s this about?”

“I’m investigating the disappearance of Jocelyn Evans.”

It’s been just over a year since Jocelyn died.

Now someone shows up looking for her?

No way. I don’t buy this for a second.

“Do you know anything about her disappearance?”

I shake my head.

For a moment I think of Jared.

Liar.

Then I think of Lily.

Actress.

This lady is no more an FBI agent than some rising starlet in Hollywood working on a new ABC show.

“Chris, I have been in touch with someone who knows you. She’s the one who first alerted us to this case. Your friend Poe. Moved with her family to Charlotte.”

Her eyes are unflinching, and she doesn’t appear to be lying.

You have no idea who’s lying and who’s not.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know Ms. Graham?” a slightly irritated voice asks.

“No. I know Poe. Sure.”

“Have you been in touch with her recently?”

“No.”

“What about Jocelyn Evans? When was the last time you saw her?”

“Right after Christmas last year.”

“What happened?”

“She moved away with her aunt.”

“And when was the last time you spoke to her aunt?”

I shake my head. “When they came over to our cabin. Right before they left.”

Don’t say “disappeared” don’t you dare say that.

I’m not about to start talking to this lady, who is no FBI agent. She might be from the same place they got Lily.

I see the empty chairs surrounding the one I’m leaning on. Even now, so long after coming to this school, this place has a cold, lifeless feel to it. This school belongs in a horror movie, not some kid’s life.

“Your friend said you might not be cooperative.”

“What else did she tell you?”

“Enough,” Diane Banks says. “Enough to get me here.”

Is that even your real name? Couldn’t you be a little more creative with your alias?

For the next ten minutes, she asks me questions that I barely answer. She soon realizes that she’s not going to get anything. Not from me.

“Chris, I am here to help.”

“Jocelyn moved a year ago,” I say. “And now you show up?”

I say this because whoever she is, I’m wanting her to know the timing sucks.

You’re too late.

“It took your friend a while to reach out to us. There are reasons why. And you know them.”

I have my arms folded and I’m just staring at her, not biting and not flinching.

“I’m going to be around for a while,” the woman tells me. “I’m staying at the Blackberry B and B.”

I laugh out loud. “Is that the one close to the downtown of Solitary?”

“Yes.”

“For real. You’re staying there.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” she asks.

Couldn’t you at least pick a better spot? Maybe somewhere different from where Lily stayed?

“It’s really the only place in the area,” Ms. “Diane Banks” says.

“Okay then,” I say.

“Chris, listen—if there are bad things going on in this town, you need to tell me. You need to let me help you.”

“I’m fine.”

She looks at me, but I’m not going to break.

You don’t know how strong this place is making me.

“Keep my card. You might need it.”

“Will do,” I say.