Dead Ringer (15 page)

October
25

Laura

“The rules of this game are simple,”
Laura said to Charlie. “We have thirty minutes to find a Halloween costume that
costs no more than thirty dollars.”

“What if we don’t find one?”

“We have to. Those are the rules.”

“What if it’s totally dumb because we run out of time?”

“So be it.”

“And it has to go together, right? Like a couple’s costume?”

Laura smiled. She had purposefully left that out of her
instructions to see if Charlie would ask.

Things had been rocky for Charlie since the homecoming
dance. He was stressed most days and when he wasn’t, he was exhausted. Laura
didn’t have the heart to tell him that she’d caught him nodding off in class
for the second time that week. He obviously wasn’t sleeping well at night. Laura
hoped it was because soccer playoffs were around the corner and coach Stanley
was working them harder, but she knew it was because of the latest information
from the police. They had new evidence from a source connected to Sarah and
were starting to bring people in for questioning.

“I’ll be the first person they bring in,” Charlie whispered
as they walked from English to second period.

“You don’t know that for sure,” Laura said.

“Yes, I do. I can’t stop thinking about what they’re going
to ask.”

“Are you going to tell them about the messages you’re
getting?” Laura asked. Charlie responded with a look that said he had
absolutely no idea what he was going to do.

Laura didn’t have a response, and she hadn’t yet figured out
a way to really talk to Becca about her suspicions. Laura had tried to bring up
the topic of the homecoming-dance photo with Becca the week after it happened,
but the issue was dismissed so quickly, Laura couldn’t come up with a comeback.

“Hey, I meant to ask you if we gave
Chronicle
photos
to the team that did the homecoming slideshow?” she asked Becca.

“No. They have their own photos,” Becca fired back. Laura
realized that she would have to argue that point or admit what she found on
Becca’s laptop, and she definitely couldn’t flat-out ask Becca if she was the
one pranking. Becca wouldn’t just confess if she was guilty and if she was
innocent; she’d have a thousand follow-up questions. Laura didn’t want to be
responsible for making yet another person suspicious of Charlie. But, truth be
told, part of her was afraid to find out what Becca or anyone else might know
about Charlie. The incident at homecoming brought them closer, and Charlie was
finally starting to behave like the kind of boyfriend Laura had always dreamed
of.

He still found time to spend with her despite his crazy
soccer schedule. When he was too busy for a movie night or dinner date, he
would text, call, or leave something sweet in her locker. They spent as much of
the weekend together as possible with his soccer schedule and her newspaper
assignments. And the other day, he left a giant bag of pumpkin-shaped candy
corns on her desk in English. Laura didn’t even remember mentioning that they
were her favorite.

She was touched by the fact that Charlie found comfort in
their relationship during this difficult time. All she wanted was to help him be
happy again.

Whatever she was doing seemed to be working. In her
experience, most boys avoided couple’s costumes like the plague.

“Okay,” she said as they approached the front door to
American Vintage. “On our marks…get set…go!”

They bounded through the doors and started racing around the
store. Charlie grabbed a sombrero. “We could be the two amigos?” he yelled over
at her. She wrinkled her nose, dismissing the idea. She rushed into the back
section of the store where they kept the best 60s garb. She snagged two giant
pairs of bell-bottoms and a hand-made vest covered in peace signs.

“What about Sonny and Cher?!” she called back into the main
room.

“Veto. I don’t do bell-bottoms!”

They spent the next twenty-nine minutes racing around,
trying on dozens of looks, and making each other laugh so hard that Laura ended
up with tears in her eyes. In the end, the winning look was based on a pair of
shiny, black, spandex pants that Laura found and a black leather motorcycle
jacket that Charlie was obsessed with. They would piece together a few more
items they each had at home and go as Danny and Sandy from
Grease
. Of
course, that was Laura’s idea.

“What do you mean you’ve never seen
Grease
?!”
she
screamed when he met her Sandy-and-Danny suggestion with a confused look.

“No guys have seen that movie,” Charlie said. “No guys have
seen
any
movie with that much singing.”

“Well,
this
guy is going to sit through it,” Laura
said. “Ugh, though it would have been so much better if you saw it with me at
the outdoor screening on the part of the LA river where they do the drag-racing
scene.
So
cool.”

Charlie rolled his eyes. “Don’t make me even more jealous of
your old life, Cali,” he said. “Especially when it’s getting freezing on this
coast.”

“Fine, but only if you promise to watch
Grease
with
me tonight.”

“Do I get to order whatever I want for takeout?” Charlie
asked.

“Deal,” said Laura, though she thought she was getting the
better end of the bargain.

Laura noticed a sense of ease about Charlie as they watched
the movie later that night with two giant tubs of fried chicken on the coffee
table. He seemed genuinely happy for the first time in at least a week. Laura
wasn’t sure if things had calmed down in his mind around all the Sarah Castro-Tanner
rumors, or if he was just doing a better job hiding his feelings, but right now
all she wanted to focus on was the positive. It scared her a little to admit
it, but she was head over heels in love with Charlie Sanders, and she was
pretty sure he felt the same.

* * *

October 31 fell on a Thursday, so
everyone had to suffer through a day of school before they could walk around
collecting candy from people still willing to give out fun-size Snickers to the
high school crowd. Dressing up in school wasn’t allowed anymore because the
administration couldn’t stop all the girls from parading around in their slutty
kitty cat, waitress, or cowgirl looks, so instead everyone wasted the day
watching horror movies in their classes and talking about where they were going
to party that night. Once again, Jeff Haskell was hosting the most-official
bash, but this time he invited Laura personally. “Looking forward to seeing
your costume,” he said. “All the girls are saying you’re going to have the
best.” Laura was pretty confident that things were going to be different for
her second appearance at a major Englewood party.

Then at lunchtime, Laura received one more Halloween treat. The
horror movie marathon Becca was planning for that night had her in good spirits
and they were alone in the office. Now was the time to get more information out
of Becca about Charlie.

“Hey,” Laura said. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“Yeah, Rivers. What?”

“I keep thinking about that last photo that popped up during
the homecoming slideshow.”

“You do, or Charlie does?” Becca asked. That gave Laura her
first critical piece of information: Becca was aware that the photo upset
Charlie. That meant Becca knew something about his relationship with Sarah.

“Yes, Charlie. How did you know that? And why do you think
he’s upset? He won’t talk about it with me,” Laura lied. She wasn’t about to
tell Becca what she knew about Charlie’s relationship with Sarah, especially if
Becca was somehow involved.

“I know because no one in this freaking school wants to be
associated with Sarah. They’re all too cruel, heartless, and obsessed with
their own reputations.”

So, Becca’s frustration isn’t about Charlie specifically
,
Laura gathered. That made Laura less suspicious, but there was always a chance
that Becca was lying.

“Do you think we could figure out who put that shot in?” Laura
asked. “The investigative journalist in me is dying to find out.”

“Then ask the social committee,” Becca said, “They put that
whole thing together.”

“Yeah,” Laura said, “I’m thinking about that. I just figured
you were curious, too.”

“Why?” Becca asked.

This was Laura’s moment. She could confess exactly what she
saw on Becca’s computer—the empty file with a direct tie to that photo.
Becca would have to answer, and if she lied, Laura might be able to tell from
her body language.
But what if Becca really did do this to Charlie
,
Laura wondered? What would Becca do if she knew that Laura suspected she was
involved? Suddenly it all felt too risky to say more.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe because you’re always
interested in a good story.”

“True,” Becca said, “so let’s find one we can actually use.”
Then she turned back to her computer, a clear signal that their talk was over.

Laura stood up from her own desk and started to gather her
things. There were only a few minutes before the first-period bell and she
didn’t feel like being around Becca given the awkward tension in the air.

“Off to class,” she said. “See you later.”

“YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!” Becca screamed back.

“What? I just—” Laura started, but she quickly
realized that Becca was talking to her computer screen.

 “‘
The Englewood Police Department is going to
interview every single student in the school regarding their relationship with
Sarah Castro-Tanner’
! That is a complete and total invasion of privacy!”

Laura was now standing over Becca reading the headline from
the Englewood Register’s website. “Wow,” she said. Laura knew that she should
be watching Becca’s face closely for any clues about her feelings on the story,
but right now all she could think about was Charlie. He was definitely going to
be questioned—just like he suspected—and given his fragile state
about the homecoming moment, Laura couldn’t imagine how he would react.

“We need to do some research into student rights around this,
Rivers, immediately. It’s got to be illegal. And we need people to know how
they can refuse.”

 
“But don’t you think they’re looking for
important information?” Laura protested.
Now
she was focused on Becca’s
response.

“No. Based on
everything
I’ve read, Sarah was a
deeply depressed girl who didn’t think she had much to live for, and didn’t get
any help from this dump to realize she was wrong. Maybe the ‘powers that be’
should start a change by supporting troubled students instead of wasting their
time digging up old cases.”

Becca’s rant made Laura more suspicious; it seemed like she was
trying to divert attention. Laura decided she had to take the conversation
further.

 “Are you nervous about what the cops are going to ask
you if you get interviewed?” Laura asked.

That worked; Becca immediately turned from her computer to
face Laura.

“Why are you asking me that?”

“Because
I’m
nervous, and I just wanted to talk about
it with you,” Laura said. It wasn’t entirely a lie. She didn’t know if she
would be questioned since she was a new student, but the idea of talking to any
cops about anything was scary.

“
You
don’t have anything to be nervous about,” Becca
said.

“And you do?” Laura shot back. She held her breath. If Becca
was guilty of pranking Charlie, she would obviously never confess, but if Laura
could get even the slightest indication that Becca was involved, she could help
Charlie prank her back.

“Let it go, Rivers,” Becca said. Her tone was clear.

“No,” Laura said. “You’re clearly upset and I feel bad about
that because I’m your friend, and I want to help you.”

“Well, you can’t,” Becca said. “This isn’t something anyone
can help with, okay?” She stood angrily, bringing her face within inches of
Laura’s. “I’m serious,” she said. And with that, she stormed out of the room.

October
31

Charlie

It had been over a week since
Charlie sent the cops the emails from Sarah and he hadn’t heard a word from the
EPD. The delay made him nervous—what could they dig up in that time?—but
it had given him days to go over what he would say.

Then the call finally came on the night before Halloween. They
wanted to interview him the next afternoon. Charlie couldn’t decide whether or
not he was going to tell his mother, but the police took care of that, too. As
a minor, they needed to speak to her before moving forward, not that he could
have kept it a secret even if he was eighteen. On the morning of the thirty-first,
news hit that they would be interviewing the entire school.

 “Listen to me, Charlie. I want you to tell them every
single thing you know, but if anything at all feels weird when you’re in that
room, you just say you need to think about it, and then we’ll get a lawyer so
you’re protected,” Charlie’s mom said as he was leaving the house.

“You know we can’t afford that, Mom,” he said. Miserable as
it was to tell his mom about the emails he’d released to the cops, it would
have been worse for her to find out after the fact. Her first reaction when she
heard about Charlie’s email relationship with Chelsea was shock. She blamed
herself for being so busy, for working such long hours. Charlie assured her that
it was an honest mistake and equally his fault for being so gullible. But now
that the police were involved for real, she was terrified.

“Sharon from work knows a guy who will help us for next to
nothing.”

“You told Sharon about this?”

“Yes, Charlie. She is my friend and one of my only support
systems, and we need help. I need you to take this seriously.”

“Trust me, Mom, I am,” Charlie said as he walked out the
door. The last thing he needed was someone making him feel more stressed than
he already felt. He needed to stay strong and focused, and now it was time to
go convince Amanda, Kit, and Miller to act the same.

* * *

“I can’t believe the police are
bringing you in on Halloween, dude,” Miller said. “That’s so lame. Why can’t
they wait until tomorrow?”

“Because a girl
died,
Sean, and Charlie lied about
information he had,” Kit said. Her voice was so quiet, Charlie could barely
hear her, but he understood what she was saying and, even more importantly, how
she was feeling. Over the past few weeks, Kit had been looking and acting the
way Charlie felt inside. He somehow found the ability to hide it during the
school day, but Kit apparently didn’t have the strength or ability to fake it.
She’d been missing school at least once a week on account of what Miller said
were massive migraines, and her nails were bitten up and scabbed over. Right
now, she was pulling at a lock of her hair so hard that he saw a few strands
actually come loose. Charlie could barely look at her without being overcome
with guilt. He was technically responsible for all of this, and it was ruining
far more lives than just his.

“I think you should be less worried about Charlie and more
worried about yourself, Kit,” Amanda chimed in. “Thanks to Charlie’s decision,
we’re all going to be questioned.”

“Do you think?” Miller asked.

“Absolutely,” Amanda replied. “We’re attached at the hip—or
we
were
. The cops will uncover that in a second.”

“Okay, okay,” Charlie said, trying to avoid a group fight.
“We only have twenty more minutes to be off campus until lunch is over. I have
to make this quick.”

“Yeah, about that, Carly,” Amanda said. “Think it’s maybe a
little suspicious that the four of us are missing from school two hours before
the cops are questioning you?”

Everyone was frustrated and Charlie couldn’t blame them. As
of that morning, they didn’t even know that he’d given the police information.
Now he had them gathered in Kit’s basement for an emergency meeting. It had
taken fifteen minutes just to calm Amanda and Miller down, and the only thing
that technically stopped their yelling was the fear of some neighbor hearing
through the walls.

 “Okay,” Charlie said. “My story is simple and it’s
true. Before Sarah committed suicide, she pulled this sick prank on me by pretending
to be Chelsea. It was sad and weird, but I didn’t do anything about it because
I felt bad for her. I didn’t tell anyone about it when she died because I
didn’t want to bring up something even more embarrassing about her after what
she did to herself. It didn’t feel right. And that’s it.”

“Impressive,” Miller said grudgingly.

“It’s
true
,” Charlie said, “and it makes me a good
guy who got email-attacked by Sarah, a deranged girl. Now I’m just trying to
help.”

“
Some
of it is true,” said Amanda. “You didn’t
exactly ignore her after those emails, and you didn’t exactly ignore ‘Chelsea’ before.
I’m not sure I’d call you a good guy.”

“What do you mean he didn’t ignore her before? He had
nothing to do with that freak,” Miller said.

Charlie shot Amanda the most vicious look he could without
Miller or Kit noticing. That fact that he had actually fallen for Chelsea was
still a secret from those two, and if it didn't stay that way, things were
going to get even worse.

“Nothing,” Amanda said quickly. “I’m just mad.”

“I get that, but I’m trying to help all of us,” Charlie shot
back.

“Then maybe you should have asked
all
of us before
you did something that was going to affect
all
of us!” Amanda yelled.

“
Please, please, please, please, please
calm down,
you guys,” Kit cried. Tears were streaming down her face. “I can’t do this
anymore and—I just—
please
can we—”

Miller tried to hug Kit to stop her body from shaking so
violently, but she slipped through his fingers before he could wrap his arms
around her tiny body and ran up the stairs. Miller shot a crushing look over at
Charlie. He didn’t know how to help Kit, and it was obviously killing him.

Charlie could relate. He’d felt the exact same way when
Amanda came to him their freshman year and told him everything that was going
on with her. He felt trapped in the situation—they both did—and so
he did something extreme to help save her. Charlie wished he could tell Miller
all about that experience to help him through things with Kit, but no one could
know—not even to save Kit.

“Go to Kit,” Charlie finally said. “She needs you right now.
Amanda and I will figure this out.”

Miller ran up the stairs to find Kit.

“Just us again,” Charlie said to Amanda after a pause. “Why
it is always just us?”

“Because we’re the fighters, Charlie. We’re the team that gets
it done when things get as bad as they can get. We’ve done it once, and we’ll
do it again. You stood by me when I needed to lie, and I’ll stand by you now.”

“I don’t know if I can lie this time,” Charlie confessed.
“It’s really getting to me.”

“You can because you have to,” Amanda said, “and I’m here to
make sure you do.” Charlie had been tied to Amanda for so long that he didn’t
know what life was like without her in the driver’s seat. Now, thanks to Laura,
he knew what it was like to have a girlfriend without all that baggage. The
question was: this time, did he have a choice? And after all the history
between them, would he ever really be able to separate from Amanda?

In a way, he didn’t have a choice
then
, and he didn’t
have a choice
now
. He had to do whatever it took to protect himself.

* * *

Charlie tried to stay calm as he sat
in the waiting room at the police bureau, but it wasn’t exactly a relaxing
environment. A homeless guy was screaming curses at a cop trying to get him out
of the building and a young woman with a thick accent from what sounded like
Russia was crying to another cop about her husband being a monster. Charlie
stuck out like a sore thumb, so he was almost relieved to be taken into the
interrogation room. Once inside, though, he had to use every ounce of his
energy to fight against slipping into another panic attack.

It was a tiny room with a large, steel desk, two old chairs
facing opposite each other and a two-way mirror on one wall—exactly the
same as he’d seen in a thousand cop shows and movies. Nothing that happened
inside rooms like that ever looked pleasant, nor did the guys who would come
in, slam the door behind them, and start firing questions. Charlie was rehearsed,
but right now he wasn’t ready. Before he could mentally run through his plan
for the hundredth time, a detective entered the room.

“Charlie. Thanks for coming in. I’m Detective Pierson, but
you can just call me Matt.” He was thinner and younger than Charlie expected,
and looked like he was more likely to run a successful start-up than work a
tiny town’s barely necessary police force.

Detective Pierson reached his hand across the table and gave
Charlie’s an incredibly strong shake. It happened so fast that Charlie didn’t
have a second to wipe the sweat off his palms. “Listen,” the detective said as
their hands disconnected, “don’t be nervous about this interview. It’s going to
be quick and easy. And I’m real sorry to pull you in here on Halloween. Talk
about a trick, right?”

Charlie smiled, though he was sure it was awkward. This
didn’t feel like a moment to be joking, but he wanted to follow the lead.

“It’s fine, Detective—”

“Matt. Please.”

“Sorry. Matt,” Charlie said. “Whenever you need me is fine.”

“Thanks. This is going to be really brief. We looked over
what you sent and have most of everything we need. I just had one follow-up
question.”

Charlie couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Only
one
question? How could that be possible? He had a whole explanation that went
behind the emails: who he thought Sarah was, why she did it, and, most
importantly, why he didn’t tell anyone until now. Unless this guy’s one
question was a huge one, Charlie was confused.

“Is it okay if we just get right into it?” Detective Pierson
asked.

“Absolutely,” Charlie said as calmly as he could.

“Great. So Sarah does this thing to you. It’s obviously
strange and creepy and evidence of some serious issues she was going through.
But afterward, did you ignore her?”

“What do you mean?” Charlie asked, mostly because the
question came so quickly that he didn’t get the chance to fully process the
words.

“Did you just never speak to her again? Never address her in
school? Never answer that last email about her wanting to meet up and be with
you?”

Charlie’s mind immediately flipped to the picture in the
homecoming slideshow. “No,” he said. “One time after the emails, she came over
to my locker and I asked her to go away.”

“Right,” the detective said, “that makes sense. But
otherwise you pretended like she didn’t exist?”

“Yes,” Charlie said. The shorter the response, the better,
he figured, especially if what he was saying already made sense.

“Thanks, buddy. That’s all I’ve got. What are you going as
for Halloween tonight?”

 “Danny Zucco. Wait. That’s really it? Why?” Charlie
was shocked. How could that possibly be it?

Detective Pierson look equally surprised by his follow-up.
“Because you answered my question, and I’m satisfied with the response right
now. People don’t usually want to know why it’s over, Charlie; they just want
it to be over.”

“Yeah,” Charlie said, “Of course. I get that. I just figured
you’d want to know more about why I think Sarah did what she did.”

“Ah. We’ve got a junior detective on our hands here,” he
said. Charlie couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but there was a
little edge to his tone this time. “Here’s the thing, kid. I don’t care why
Sarah sent you those letters. I care why she killed herself. And your answer
helps me figure that out.”

“How?” Charlie asked. Now he was legitimately interested.

“Because it provides me with a motive. Every move we make in
life comes from a motive: the bottom-line reason that we do it. There’s a
reason I woke up at five thirty and went to the gym: so I can look good for the
ladies. There’s a reason Sarah Castro-Tanner killed herself: maybe she felt
alone and unloved in this world. And there’s a reason you sent us those emails
last week: to help us out.”

Detective Pierson’s voice was back to that friendly,
just-two-guys-talking tone, but Charlie still didn’t like where this line of
thinking was headed. He needed to stop asking questions and end this meeting.

“That’s really interesting,” Charlie said. “Thanks for
taking the time to explain it to me.”

“Any time. Let me show you out.”

Charlie tried not to breathe a massive sigh of relief as he
stood up from the table and followed the detective toward the door.

“Oh, hey. I just realized that I put words in your mouth
back there about why you sent the emails. I assumed it was to help us out, but
I probably should have asked you.” Detective Pierson had positioned himself so
that he was staring straight into Charlie’s eyes. His face registered a
pleasant smile, but Charlie didn’t feel like they were friends in this moment.
“Why did you send us those emails
now
?” he finally asked.

“For why you said,” Charlie sputtered. “To be helpful
because Sarah was…I knew her forever. I wanted to help the Castro-Tanner family
understand that maybe she was having some, I don’t know, mental problems maybe,
for awhile.”

“That’s what I thought,” Detective Pierson said, cutting him
off. Then he looked into the distance, as if he was considering whether or not
to say what was on his mind. After an incredibly awkward pause, he finally spoke.
“Okay,” he said. “Back to your real life.”