Lettie
There’s no gun in the case.
I’m no weapons expert, but I’m smart enough to know that there should be a gun in the foam imprint, and it’s gone. I’m trying not to freak out.
Deep breaths, deep breaths, Lettie. There has to be a logical explanation, and the person going to give it to me is Dylan.
I close the lid. When I do, the case locks automatically. The green light on the front turns red again.
I need to find my cousin, so I text him—all caps loaded with exclamation marks. He deserves it.
WHERE ARE YOU???!!!!
He texts back almost immediately: Outside setting up for the outdoor movie.
Stay there, I text back.
Fastest way out is through the bulkhead door in the basement, so that’s the way I go, which has the added benefit of avoiding Uncle Ken, who is still upstairs. I cross the street and meet up with Dylan, who is in fact helping Aunt Emily set up the projector.
Aunt Emily looks me up and down curiously. “Where are the chairs?” she asks.
Shit. The chairs.
“Sorry, I couldn’t find them,” I lie.
“No problem,” Emily says with a smile. “It’s a bit of a disaster down there. I’ve been telling Ken we need a massive yard sale to clean it out—certainly, before your grandmother moves in. I know where they are. I’ll grab them.”
Emily hurries off, leaving me with a brief opportunity to talk to Dylan alone. I pull him aside, finding a quiet grassy spot underneath the shade of an ancient oak tree near the Kumars’ property. I have no idea where Jay is, but I suspect he’s inside his house and will hide out there for most of the day. I can’t believe it’s been a year since I met him, but now isn’t the time to dwell on my mild Jay Kumar obsession. Okay, a bit more than mild. But I have more important matters to address.
“What the hell, D? Where’s the gun?” I bring this up only when I’m certain our conversation can’t be overheard.
“I told you,” he said, “I put it back in the case.” He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t stammer.
Is he telling the truth?
“Well, it’s not there now,” I say.
Dylan’s eyes go wide. He looks like I just kneed him in the nuts. “Lettie, what are you doing?” he says. “You opened the gun case?”
I nod, not feeling even a little guilty about it. “I was looking for the chairs in your basement, and the case was right there. I remembered the code, or what you said it was, so I decided to make sure you’d put it back.”
“Why? You don’t trust me?”
“No, I’m totally worried about you. There’s a difference,” I say. “But that doesn’t matter. Where is the gun, D? Do you have it?”
Dylan brushes me off with a wave of his hand. “I told you, I put it back. You’re making way too much out of this. My dad sometimes takes it out to clean it. I’m sure it’s up in his office or something, but I promise you, I don’t have it. Why don’t you go get the egg toss set up—do something productive and leave me alone, will you?”
I can’t say Dylan stomps off, but it wasn’t the friendliest departure.
My instincts say to trust him. I’ve known Dylan my whole life and I think I’d know if he was lying to me. Still, I can’t forget his comment about this block party being the most memorable one ever—and now there’s a missing gun?
Something else Dylan said is sticking with me—not his words per se, but his egg toss reference makes me think of the conversation I just had with my father. Once an egg tosser, always an egg tosser, he had said. Basically, it was his cute way of implying that people don’t really change.
I see Emily setting up the chairs as I’m lost in thought, taking bits and pieces of information and trying to connect them in a meaningful way.
Dylan and Riley.
Blackmailer.
Embarrassment.
A video recording.
Something private.
A private recording.
Who does that sort of thing? Who makes private recordings of people?
Who hacks and hides?
People don’t change. My dad is right about that. And I’m stupid because I should have known it from the start.
The scorpion always stings the frog.
I see it all now. A fierce chill sets against my skin. Dylan is nowhere to be found. I look around, taking in the sights and sounds of kids running about, parents chowing down and drinking, music blasting, grills grilling, bikes biking—all our block-party norms—but I’m not feeling the party vibe. Instead, I catch sight of Bug Man walking toward Ken’s house of all places.
Does this guy have a death wish?
I don’t think about Bug Man for long. I have a more pressing concern.
I run toward Jay’s front door, texting Dylan as I go.
He’s not answering.
I call him, but I get voice mail. Now I’m terrified.
And that’s why I need to find Jay Kumar right away, both to confront him … and to warn him.