In the morning, my mom tells me the whole town is helping to search for Melody. My heart drops—I watch enough true crime shows to know this means that the cops have already given up on finding her alive. Every day that goes by decreases our chances of finding her, and Melody disappeared on Tuesday. Four days ago.
But if the whole town is participating, Brandon might be there, which means I can pump him for information.
Asher and I walk toward the woods behind my neighborhood, Sheriff Henderson’s instructions fresh in our ears. My parents paired off to search the forested area behind the diner. Asher studies the small area circled in red on our map. I peek at the map, trying to calm my nerves. I’ve managed to keep some amount of hope alive—that Melody simply ran away from this tiny town in search of bigger things. That she was abducted but will connive her way into getting released, the way she conspired to get me left behind last year for our away game against Millington. Even hope that this is all some sick joke she’s playing to torment me.
But today we could find her body in these woods.
I peek up from the map, wanting to share all of this with Gideon. But he’s standing over by the tent, pretending not to see me.
I notice Tina and Laura up ahead, squinting at their own map.
“Asher,” I say, nudging his arm. “I’ve got to talk to Tina real quick.”
“Mm-hmm,” he mumbles without looking up.
I dash over to Tina and tap her lightly on the shoulder. No need to call Laura’s attention. Tina turns around, smiling when he sees me. “Hey, Cass. Need a partner?”
“I’m actually partnered with Asher. But I wanted to ask you something.”
“Sure, what’s up?”
One look at her smiling face and my nerves falter. Just say it. “Look, I know nothing happened between you and Brandon last Tuesday.”
Tina’s smile freezes, then slowly deflates. “Excuse me?”
“You weren’t driving around or doing anything with Brandon all afternoon.” It’s a gamble. But deep down, everyone—Tina included—already wonders if I’m crazy. What’s the worst that could happen? “My question is why did you lie?”
Tina blinks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Why would you spread a rumor that you were with Laura’s ex,” I say, leaning in close, “when you weren’t?” I straighten again, taking a step in Laura’s direction. “I mean, she’s right over there. Maybe you want to explain it to her.”
Tina pulls on my sleeve. “Wait.” She gnaws her bottom lip, her eyes zipping over to Laura and then back to me. “Fine. I lied. But I’m not telling you why.”
I exhale slowly, so she can’t see my relief. “Really? Maybe we should see what Brandon thinks about your little rumor.”
“It wasn’t my rumor,” Tina snaps. “Stephanie saw me get into the car and started blabbing about it. I didn’t tell anyone on purpose.”
Guilt tumbles in my stomach. “I’m not going to say anything. I just need to know. Did Brandon put you up to this? Did he tell you to say you were with him all afternoon?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “He just gave me a ride. Cass, please. I can’t have people asking me about why I was in town or why Brandon drove me. You have to let this go.”
“Tell me exactly what happened, and I give you my word it will stay between us.”
Tina’s head slumps. “I was one test away from academic suspension.” A few yards away, Laura stirs, so we move a few steps farther from the tent. “Coach was going to call my parents,” she whispers. “No more volleyball. I promised I’d get my grades up, but there weren’t enough hours in the day. I remembered Dave talking about this guy behind Carver’s who can sell you something to help you stay awake.” She glances anxiously behind her to make sure no one is listening. “When Coach ended practice early, Brandon was already getting into his car. I needed a ride from someone who wouldn’t ask questions.” Her face flushes. “Please don’t tell anyone. If Coach or my parents ever found out—”
“Tina, it’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.” I regret this whole conversation, for making Tina—one of the few nice people on our team—admit something so shameful. But I have to push it, or it was all for nothing. “I need to know one more thing. Where did Brandon go after he dropped you off?”
She frowns. “I don’t know. He let me out and drove off.”
“He didn’t say anything about where he was headed?”
“Why is this so important? Is this about the diner the other night? I saw Brandon flirting with you, but I didn’t think you’d actually fall for”—she peeks behind her again, where Laura’s chatting with some guys from school—“someone like him.”
“What does that mean, someone like him?” Does Tina know about Brandon? The real Brandon?
“Nothing.” She gives me an unreadable look. “Just be careful, Cass.” Then she turns back to the search tent, and joins Laura and the guys. I speed-walk back to Asher.
So there is a crack in Brandon’s alibi. He was unaccounted for long enough to lure Melody Davenport into the woods.
Asher is still engrossed in his map, oblivious I ever left. I kick a pebble as someone behind us shouts, “Hey, Pratts! Wait up!”
Brandon.
He stops beside me and my heart whirrs like a wind-up toy.
He’s wearing the jacket from yesterday. It’s one of those green parkas with all the pockets. A couple bulge, but I can’t tell if any of them hold the box.
“Hey, Brandon.” I wave and take a step closer. Then, holding my breath, I force myself to lean in for a hug.
Brandon’s body stiffens beneath my arms, but I brush a hand over the bulgiest of the pockets anyway. My fingertip knocks something, making a faint, hollow tap. It could be the tiny box, the one holding Melody’s necklace. I let out the breath and pull back, smiling awkwardly.
Asher and Brandon exchange goofy expressions as we pick up our pace. When we reach our circled area of the forest, Asher points. “The sheriff said to look here carefully. If we see any disturbed patches or anything that might belong to Melody, we have to find an officer. We aren’t supposed to touch anything.”
“We’d better get started,” Brandon says with a shrug. “There’s a lot of ground to cover. Should we split up?”
“Definitely,” Asher says. “Shout if you see anything, Cass.”
“I will.” The boys wander off in opposite directions, and I move in a straight line. I examine the forest floor, pushing aside twigs and leaves with my shoes. It’s a perfect, sunny fall day. The kind that sends the slightest breeze through the woods, kicking up the scent of orange honeysuckle. The kind Gideon and I might spend skipping rocks over the glassy surface of the reservoir. Or doing any outdoor activity—other than this.
Half an hour later, footsteps break my focus. I look up, expecting Asher. But it’s Brandon.
“So, where’s Gideon?” he asks, stepping closer. My eyes comb the trees for my brother, but there’s no sign of him. Panic flutters in my chest.
“He’s around,” I say. “Searching with his mom.”
“Right.” Brandon bites his lower lip. “Here, let’s go this way.” He points toward a large patch of shrubbery, tugging on my wrist with his other hand. I flinch and wrench my arm away.
His forehead wrinkles. “What’s wrong, Cass? You’re acting weird.”
“No, I just have to finish up to that white rock. That’s where the red circle on the map reaches.”
“I already searched that. Besides, these plants up here need checking.” When he points again, I notice dirt embedded under his fingernails.
“We weren’t supposed to touch anything.” I stare at Brandon’s dirty fingers.
He wipes his hands on his jeans, pink blossoming over his cheeks. “I thought something was buried over there.” He glances over his shoulder. “So I dug around a little. Turns out it was an old granola bar wrapper. Nothing important.”
I nod, but my eyes veer to the once-stuffed jacket pocket, now flat against his chest. Then my gaze travels back to the path I never checked. I don’t think Brandon’s digging had anything to do with a buried granola bar wrapper. He’s trying to keep me from that patch of soil I would’ve crossed in a matter of moments. I want to call out for Asher, but force myself to follow Brandon.
We check a shrub, quickly discovering the only thing it hides is a deadly armor of thorns. I’m still picking them from my clothes when we meet back up with Asher.
“Nothing?” he asks. Brandon and I shake our heads in silence. “Me neither. I guess we should head back to the tent and ask what’s next.”
I scurry after him, Brandon close at my side. As we duck out of the forest, I peek over my shoulder one last time. I scan for a marker, some detail to help me remember how to get back to that area Brandon kept me from searching.
It just may be where he buried the box.
* * *
In the morning, I almost oversleep due to the complete absence of sunlight. There’s only a drab, gray sky. Fog covers the family car as we clamber inside to go to church. We park in front of the quaint white building, its spire top lost up in the haze. As we exit the car, the leaden sky opens up and leaks over our heads.
When the four of us pass through the open doors of the church, hair wet and drooping, we’re swept up immediately by a tide of whispers and cries.
Louisa Stevens approaches and whispers in my mom’s ear—surely an attempt to protect Asher and me. But she has to raise her voice to make it distinguishable above her own sobbing. “They found—Melody’s—body.”
I run into the bathroom and throw up in the first empty stall.
Afterward, as I wash up, I consider hiding out in the bathroom. I can’t face those crying people and their mourning faces. But it’s harder to look at the face staring back at me in the mirror—the one responsible for the girl now lying cold and lifeless.
Melody’s really gone. She was horrible to me, and I often wished her out of my life. But I never truly wished for this.
I rinse my mouth, checking in the mirror for a fraction of a second. Then I trudge back out to my parents to endure the nauseating whispers and wails.
I don’t hear a word from the pulpit, other than the prayer said for the Davenports.
* * *
Athletic practices are canceled on Tuesday for the funeral, but I don’t attend. Instead, I get completely ready in a sleeveless black shift dress, tediously apply eye makeup, and style my hair into loose, bouncing curls. Then I wait until my family is halfway out the front door to inform them I’m not feeling well.
I’d like to spend the funeral destructive crying—that thing that happens when you sob over your freshly painted face. But I have a mission. While everyone else is at the funeral, I’m going back to the woods to dig up the necklace. Once I’m sure it’s there, I’ll leave an anonymous tip with the sheriff. Hopefully, Brandon left his fingerprints behind.
As soon as my family’s car engine trails off down the street, the doorbell rings. I squint through the peephole to find Gideon standing there.
I fling the door open and throw my arms around him, resting my cheek against his chest. His rhythmic heartbeat is soothing, but his arms stay bridled at his sides. Slowly, his body loosens and his arms enfold me. I never want to move, but the moment ends. Gideon steps back and eyes me.
His face turns a deep red, and his eyes divert to the floors. “Sorry, were you headed to the funeral?”
“No. My family’s there, though.”
Gideon’s eyebrows angle in confusion. “You’re not going? Because of the threat?”
I wrap a curl around my finger. “Not exactly. Why aren’t you at the funeral?”
“I figured it might be a good time to investigate, while everyone’s there. Those detectives aren’t doing everything they can. Seth was barely questioned before they sent him on his way.” His voice drops. “They’re saying whoever did it tossed her body into the reservoir like garbage.”
My stomach spins and careens like a wrecked carousel. I picture Melody lying on the muddy bank, blond hair tangled in the slimy rocks and broken bottles. Blue eyes open and empty. “What else are they saying?” I whisper, blinking away the image.
“They’re doing an autopsy to make sure she didn’t just fall into the water—you and I know that didn’t happen. They’re also saying the necklace wasn’t on her. That the killer kept it as some sort of trophy.”
Kept it in a small white box. I fold my hands together, but I can’t contain my mouth. “Giddy,” I say, struggling to catch his eyes, “I told you I saw the necklace. Brandon stuffed it into his jacket pocket.”
“No, you said you thought you saw something that could’ve been the necklace.”
My shoulders sag. “Well, I’m going to look for it. Good luck finding anything at Seth’s place, since I saw where Brandon buried the necklace in the woods.”
Gideon’s hand moves to his temple and up through his hair, rumpling it. “You really think he did this?”
“Yes.”
“Cass.” He reaches out to touch my arm, but thinks better of it. Instead he fidgets with the pocket of his jeans. “Seth has that necklace.”
I grit my teeth. “I explained to you guys three years ago how I felt about Brandon.”
“He’s not a killer because he dated Laura Gellman.”
“He’s a killer because he killed someone!”
Gideon sighs. “You’ve got to give me more than that.”
I want to tell him. I do. To lay out the reasons Brandon’s the guy. But I know Gideon. Once he hears about the fire and the notebook, he’ll trust the cops to take me at my word. And they won’t. They’ll see that photo. The notebook where I described in detail how to kill Melody. My history. They’ll start investigating me, and Brandon will get away with everything. He’ll be free to do this to the next girl who crosses his path.
Gideon squints at me hard before his shoulders fall. “You look really pretty, Cass.” And he might as well have said, You’re dead on the inside, Cass. He swivels around and heads for the steps.
My heart slithers down to my feet. He can’t leave this way. “Where are you going?” I shout, scampering after him in my bare feet.
He stops in the driveway. “To Seth’s place. Are you coming?”
I stand before him, my eyes drifting to the half-open door, then back to his pleading expression. If I tell him, maybe I’ll end up in prison. Maybe Gideon will hate me even more. Maybe he’ll find some way to forgive me and help prove my innocence. The list of maybes is infinite.
But if I don’t tell him, there’s only one outcome: he’ll walk down that driveway and never show up on my doorstep again.
And I guess that’s the thing I fear more than any of it. I blow out a long breath, rustling my perfectly curled hair. “Look, I’ll tell you how I know. But you’re coming with me.”
Gideon’s brow furrows and then softens. “Fine,” he says, motioning to the door. “Lead the way.”
I peer down at my funeral attire. “I need to change first.”