“Do you know what you’re doing?” Ryan asked.
I looked over at him, my arms stretched to their limits while holding the horizontal rails of the twelve-foot wrought-iron fence surrounding the Blair property. The sun had already set and the only light we had was from the moon filtering through the trees around us. “I told you, I’ve done this before. Once you get your leg on the top rung you have to sort of shove yourself off.”
“Avoiding the very sharp pokers at the top.”
“Yeah.”
“Sounds simple.”
I sensed his sarcasm. “Are you scared?” I teased. “I can go alone.”
“No,” he said defensively.
We’d gone over the plan over and over at work until each step was branded in my mind. Focusing on the logistics helped keep away from my memories the vision of Joe’s dead eyes staring at me. I had triple-checked the shared calendar and Kat and her parents were at a charity function. Everything had lined up perfectly; it was as if fate wanted us to find out the truth.
I stepped onto the bottom rung and grabbed the top. A secret thrill raced through me, as it did every time Kat and I had sneaked out together to a party or to Rachael’s or Brittany’s house. My parents would have never allowed the behavior, which is why I had spent so many weekends at Kat’s instead.
Ryan linked his fingers together and held them at his sides. I placed my foot in his hands and he grunted as he lifted my bodyweight so I could swing my other leg up to the top rung.
I’d done it so many times that my body knew the correct movements to avoid the sharp metal at the top. I slung my legs over and hung there for a minute until I was sure I could land safely on the lawn. Then I dropped to the ground.
“See, easy,” I said, catching my breath.
Ryan grunted and heaved himself over. He wasn’t as graceful as I, but he didn’t look like a novice to fence jumping.
He rubbed his hands over his jeans as he looked around.
“Over here,” I said, lifting the sweatshirt hood over my hair. We both wore dark clothes, and, even though I was sweltering, I wanted to make sure most of my features were concealed. I didn’t like to visualize the worst-case scenario, but Ryan insisted on covering all bases. When I asked him about his experience with breaking and entering he immediately changed the subject. I wondered if there were other reasons for his banishment to Chester Bay, but this wasn’t the time or place to explore that.
I found myself disoriented and it took me some time to figure out why.
We approached from the back of the pool house, but something was missing. The filter from the pool was the only sound filling the air to indicate the general location of it. I’d never been to the house in the summer, when the pool wasn’t lit. Joe had programmed it to stay on all night after he moved into the pool house. The pool lights created a life force around the place; now it was dark and cold. Just like Joe.
My hands started to tremble as the one place I swore I’d never go back to was only a few feet in front of me. How different it looked and felt since the last time I was there. Instead of excitement for breaking it off with Joe, I was anxious and wary of what we were about to do. How did I think this was a good idea? My heart banged against my ribs and I hesitated on the cement walkway encircling the house.
“You can stay out here if you want,” Ryan said, somehow sensing my resistance.
“No,” I said quickly. Ryan would take too much time getting acquainted with the space. We were already here. I couldn’t chicken out now.
I went to the back door and turned the handle. The knob didn’t budge. I swallowed and gripped it harder until it turned. The door swung open and I wiped my sweaty palms on my shirt.
Inside, I pulled off the hooded sweatshirt, needing to cool off. Passing out in the middle of our investigation wasn’t part of the plan. I wrapped the sleeves around my waist and knotted them together. I wasn’t going to leave anything of mine there again.
We walked into the small mudroom and down the hallway leading to the main space. I swallowed the lump in my throat. The silence built in my ears, yet I heard an echo of the song I was playing the night of Joe’s death. Everything was in the same spot as I remembered, except the couch where I’d found Joe. I crossed the room, propelling myself toward the area where the couch used to be. I blinked a few times, the overlay of my memory of what I saw that night playing tricks with me. There hadn’t been any blood that night; at least I hadn’t seen any. But I doubted, anyway, that the Blairs would wish to hold onto the place where their son had died. Other than that, all the furniture was exactly as he’d left it. The desktop computer’s power button still blinked while the system was in sleep mode. The wall art was slightly off center.
The floor was spotless, no haphazardly thrown beer bottles or clothes anywhere. I was sure Mrs. Blair wanted to preserve her idea of what Joe’s room would look like. She’d been blind for so long about the boy she paid a nanny to raise.
“The computer’s on,” Ryan said, going to the desk.
“I’ll look over here.” I went to the other side of the room, turning my back and mind away from the horrific vision of that night. I thought I would be over it by now, but, apparently, more than three weeks were needed for that to become a reality. It didn’t help that I put myself in the position of returning to the place of the traumatic event.
I went to the bedroom and hovered in the doorway. In the past, I’d slept over a few times, telling my parents I was with Kat the whole night. Those lies were only the beginning. I stepped into the room and went to the dresser. I opened the top drawer. The scent of Joe’s aftershave wafted up and swirled around in the air. Memories overwhelmed me and my eyes teared. Not sure if it was from the memories or the guilt and sadness I felt for him. No one deserved to die the way he did, either by overdose or poisoning.
I must have made a noise, because Ryan’s fingers stopped clicking over the keyboard. “Everything okay?”
“Yes,” I said in a hushed voice. I moved Joe’s clothes aside, searching for anything that could help us.
A few moments had passed before Ryan continued working on the computer.
“Find anything?” I asked, needing to fill the space with some sort of sound. I couldn’t stand the silence in a place I’d known to be loud and full of life.
“I’m going through his website history. I’ll let you know if I find something.”
Unfolded clothes filled the top drawer. After sifting through them I went to the next. Again, nothing out of the ordinary. I searched the rest of the drawers and found nothing.
I opened the flashlight on my phone and pointed it at the top of the side table. I’d never seen the surface of it before: usually it was covered with stacks of dirty plates, bowls, and energy-drink bottles. I remembered I put my phone on the top once and had a hard time removing it from the sticky surface. Permanent stains polka-dotted the surface like rot spots on fruit, each of them adding to the age and use of the now-marred wood.
I opened the drawer. It was filled to the brim with junk. Several cigarettes rolled around with the force of opening the drawer. I removed each item as I went, gently placing them on the top of the table, not wanting to miss anything. When everything was out, I inspected the categories of items I’d sorted.
An array of items stared back at me. Mints, gum—for the cigarettes—empty nip bottles, a wallet-sized photo of me from school picture day, coins, and other non-helpful items. The last thing I picked up was his wallet. I opened it and something fell out, dropping to the floor.
I picked up the item. It was a matchbook. It was from a place called The Spider. The drawing on the front was a fuzzy eight-legged silhouette. I opened the flap. Two matches were left. It would have otherwise been only another ordinary item except for the red “M” written on the top flap.
If I’d discovered this any time when Joe was alive, I wouldn’t have second-guessed it. Could The Spider be the location of The Madame? Was this a coincidence? Would I go to The Spider and discover someone with a name starting with “M” who had a connection to Joe, and that would be that?
Or was this the lead we were looking for?
I went back into the living room and was about to tell Ryan what I saw when a flash of light flickered in the corner of my vision. The light had come from the house, more specifically Kat’s room. I ducked, even though I was sure no one could see us.
“Ryan,” I hissed.
“I saw. Don’t move.”
I counted each passing second in time with my heartbeat. I was on sixty-eight when the light in the family room on the first floor of the main house were turned on.
I cursed. “Ryan—”
“There’s not enough time to get to the fence.” He turned the screen to the computer off and rushed across the room, grabbing my arm. “In here.”
He pulled me down next to Joe’s bed and we crouched. We were too exposed and, if anyone walked in, we’d be caught. This entire thing was a stupid idea. Why did I even suggest it? If we were caught by any of the Blairs, how the hell would I explain what I was doing in Joe’s room? And with another guy! And, if it was Kat, I could kiss any semblance of a boring senior year goodbye. She would crucify me. I wondered how Mom would feel about sending me to a boarding school. I had to force myself to focus. I had to do something. Our reflection in the mirrored closet doors gave me an idea.
“Come here,” I said, grabbing Ryan’s arm and dragging him to the closet. I closed the sliding door as I heard someone entering the pool house. Hangers clinked behind us and Ryan moved forward, pushing me against the doors.
I stiffened and Ryan closed his hand around mine, shushing me. I didn’t realize I was being loud.
“Joe?” Kat’s voice called in a high voice. “Joe is that you?” Her voice was thick with emotion.
My breath roared in my ears and I covered my mouth, in case it turned out to be loud enough for her to hear, too.
Her shuffling footsteps moved around the other room. I closed my eyes and wished for her to go away. Did she really think Joe was there? When had she become a spiritual person? Or had she completely lost it?
I inhaled slowly. The scent of cigarette smoke lingered in the air, clinging to Joe’s clothes.
Kat entered the bedroom. I could see her through the mirror on top of Joe’s dresser. I couldn’t help but lean closer to the door, getting a better look at my ex-best friend. My eyes adjusted to the darkness and I squinted, sharpening the details of her face. Her mouth was turned downward and her eyes were wide and frightened. She wore her favorite baby blue bathrobe and her hair was pulled up into a messy bun atop her head. She must have backed out of the dinner with her parents.
She sniffled a wet sound. She wiped her face with her arm and stood at the edge of the bed.
“I know you’re here,” she said and my body froze.