The Dead and Buried (16 page)

F
aye had unnerved me at my locker. But I put that information in a little box and shoved it into a dark corner of my mind so I could focus on the task at hand.

I pulled into my driveway. Donovan parked his little black car behind mine. I walked up as he lowered his window.

Donovan looked out at Mr. Tucker’s house. “So … should we go knock on his door?”

“There’s no need for that,” I said. “Just wait.”

A moment later, a face appeared in the window on the side of Mr. Tucker’s house. Like clockwork. I straightened and waved at Mr. Tucker, motioning for him to come outside. Then the face disappeared.

I leaned back down. “He’s coming out.”

As creeped out as I was by Mr. Tucker, I still knew I had to talk to him. He was the only other person around the afternoon Kayla died.

“Does he always do that?” Donovan grimaced toward the window.

“Yeah. Every day when I come home, seconds later, his face appears at the window. He’s always watching.”

“He’s even creepier than I thought.” Donovan reached for the car handle.

I held a hand up. “No, wait in the car.”

He paused and looked up at me. “Why?”

“He might be less forthcoming with his answers about that day if the last kid he saw leaving the house is the one asking him the questions.”

“Touché.”

I left Donovan and walked to the property border. Mr. Tucker ambled over a minute later.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Tucker. Could I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure.” He eyeballed the shadow in the car.
Did he recognize Donovan from here?

“Mr. Tucker, the morning after my, uh, party, when we talked … why did you tell me to be careful?”

He shifted his weight. “Because those kids at your party were the same kids who paraded through that house last year. And we both know how that ended.”

“Do you think Kayla was pushed?”

He looked past me at the house and the yard. “I watched that girl grow up doing cartwheels and flips in the backyard. Her father even fashioned a balance beam for her from a plank of wood. I can’t imagine someone with her athleticism and grace perishing from a simple fall.” His focus returned to me. “That’s why I was forthcoming with the police. About the boy I’d seen coming from the house. The same boy who’s staring at me from that car right now.”

I looked over my shoulder. Donovan’s face was poking out of his car window. He was eavesdropping, and not very subtly. I turned back to face my neighbor, trying to sound braver than I felt. “Mr. Tucker, Donovan is my friend. And I’m sure that he didn’t push Kayla.”

“How can you be sure of something like that?”

I couldn’t exactly tell him it was because Kayla herself had told me. “You’ll just have to trust me.”

“Then trust me and watch yourself, because no one else went in that house except Kayla and that young man. And he was the only one who came out.”

He turned and began walking away with a slight limp. I knew if I followed and badgered him with more questions, I’d risk him telling my parents everything — about the party, my new friend Donovan, me asking about Kayla. So, with a heave of my shoulders, I returned to Donovan’s car.

“I assume you heard all of that?” I said.

“Sorry if I ruined it,” he said sheepishly.

“Nah, I don’t think he knows any more, anyway.” I paused, wondering what to do next. I didn’t want Donovan to leave yet, but we were done with our plan for the day. I kicked at a leaf on the ground. “Um, do you want to come in for a while?”

Marie and Colby were at one of their Mommy and Me classes. Dad had left at dawn for his next business trip. So we had the house to ourselves.

Unless Kayla showed up.

I hadn’t thought of that. But now the offer was out and I
couldn’t exactly retract it. And I wanted to spend time with him. And Kayla wasn’t around
all
the time …

Donovan gazed at the house, then back at me. “Sure.”

He followed me up the walk and stepped into the living room, almost as hesitantly as I did. I took a moment to feel the energy in the room. But this, thankfully, seemed like one of the times when she was … wherever it is ghosts go when they’re not haunting people.

“Are you okay? Being in here?” I asked as Donovan’s eyes swept the room.

“Yeah, sure.” He flashed a quick smile. “I was here for the party, remember?”

“I know, but still. If you’re uncomfortable you don’t have to stay.”

He reached out and took my hand. I felt a blush spread down my neck like a stain. “Jade, it’s fine. With your parents’ furniture and being here with you … it’s like a different house.”

I was able to push out an “okay” from my tightened throat. He let go of my hand.

“Want to go over what we’ve learned?” he said, motioning toward the couch.

I didn’t know if I’d be able to concentrate sitting next to him. I wanted to suggest the dining room, with a giant table between us, but that would be weird. So instead, I said, “Sure. Let me get us some sodas.”

I returned from the kitchen a minute later and found him sitting comfortably. I settled beside him on the couch, not too
close, yet not suspiciously far away, and placed the glasses on the coffee table.

“What do you think about what Mr. Tucker said?” he asked, pausing to take a sip. “About how I was the only other one in the house?”

I shrugged. “He only usually starts watching when I get home, so he probably wasn’t watching the house all day when it was empty. Maybe someone went in before you and Kayla arrived. Someone who was already there, waiting in the house.”

“But if he heard someone arrive,” Donovan argued, frowning, “he would have looked out the window, thinking it was Kayla.”

A disturbing thought flashed through my mind.

“There is one other explanation …” I aimed a thumb in the direction of his house.

Donovan looked slightly surprised. “Mr. Tucker?”

“What better way to cover his own tracks than to be the helpful witness who talks to the police? Maybe he saw you leave, knew no one else was home, went in, and killed her himself.”

“But why?”

“Maybe he was obsessed with her, who knows. He watches me constantly from the window; I assume he did the same to her.” I shivered at the notion.

“Yeah, he did,” Donovan muttered. His fingers trailed along his chin as he thought. “But I always got a harmless old dude vibe from him.”

“Vibes aren’t evidence.” I’d been reminding myself of that a lot lately. My thoughts turned to what Faye had said at school and I blurted the question out. “Why didn’t you tell anyone you broke up with Kayla?”

“It’s no one’s business,” Donovan said, clearly startled by my sudden question. After a moment he added quietly, “We broke up and then the next thing I hear is she’s dead. Her parents were destroyed. They’d always liked me and were very kind to me. I wasn’t about to tell them, ‘Oh, by the way, I dumped your daughter.’ So I decided not to tell anyone.” He paused and gave me a long look. “Until you.”

I wanted to ask why, but the words wouldn’t come. My throat had dried up. I fiddled with my pendant nervously.

Donovan’s eyes went to it. “What’s that one?”

I looked down and back up at him, at those intense eyes. “Red garnet.”

The gem is used to heighten romantic feelings, but that was the last thing I needed help with at the moment. Just being this close to Donovan, alone with him, was more powerful than any magic stone. I racked my brain for the gemstone’s other meaning. It was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t grasp it. All I could see was Donovan’s face, his eyes, his mouth.

He smiled. “You’re so funny with all your gemstones.”

The fever coursing through my body suddenly iced over. That’s what he thought of me. I wasn’t sexy and intriguing like Kayla. I was funny and quirky. I’d be his cute little friend. Nothing more.

“Yeah, I’m weird,” I said, and before I could stop myself I added, “Not like Kayla.”

He inched closer, maybe sensing he’d hurt my feelings. “The thing about Kayla …” He stopped and rubbed his cheek. “Yeah, she was pretty and, yeah, sometimes I enjoyed the ego boost of having the school’s most popular girl on my arm, but there were also times when I was disgusted by her and the way she treated people. She could be very cruel. Day to day, you never knew which Kayla was going to show up. What I like the most about you is that you’re you — all the time.”

My brain wanted to stop and examine every word he’d said, but I forced myself to pay attention so I wouldn’t miss anything. I’d have time to overanalyze the entire conversation later.

“You’re different, Jade.” He reached up and tenderly tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You strolled into our school out of nowhere. You don’t really fit in with any clique and you don’t care. You’re dating the most popular jock and you’re friends with the weirdest, most unpopular girl. You’re interesting to talk to. You don’t care what anyone thinks about you, but not in a defensive or aggressive way. Just a natural way.”

He stopped and dropped his gaze, a blush rising to his face. Then he looked slowly back up at me and said, “I’ve honestly never met anyone quite like you.”

My breath hitched. That was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me. Unfortunately, I couldn’t respond. I felt
paralyzed from the throat up. I couldn’t blink, talk, or even swallow.

Donovan opened his mouth to speak again. I couldn’t tear my eyes from his slightly parted lips. Heat spread through me. My neck smoldered. I felt like my skin was on fire. I was going to spontaneously combust any moment, I knew it.

“I’m not dating Kane,” I mumbled. There was so much more I wanted to say but those were the only words I could muster at the moment.

Donovan moved closer. There were only a few inches between us now and I felt each one. He leaned in and whispered in my ear, “So it’s okay if I do this?”

He kissed my earlobe, then his lips trailed down my neck, then back up to my cheek. He stopped at my lips, and I realized he was waiting for a response.

“Yes,” I breathed. “That’s okay.”

His soft lips brushed lightly across mine as if he were testing things out. I closed my eyes and kissed him back, loosening up and letting go as he deepened the kiss.

The guessing game was over. He did want me. As much — if not more — than I wanted him. He stroked my face with both hands. I trailed my fingers up his back, his neck, and locked them in his hair.

I wanted to go on like this for hours, days. All my worries evaporated as I lost myself with him. I was blind, with closed eyes, but my other senses were overloaded. His kiss, his taste, his scent, his moans, his hands. I never wanted it to end.

But then I felt something else. First a small tingle on my skin, like a warning. Then the cold. It wasn’t possible for me to be cold right now, not in this moment. Unless …

I stiffened. Donovan pulled back and looked into my wide eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I think she’s here,” I whispered.

We sat frozen for a few moments, not even breathing. Just waiting for something to happen. If Kayla had made the whole house shake before, I almost expected it to explode now. I braced myself for the fury, so tightly wound my muscles ached.

But it never came. The energy drained out and disappeared, and the temperature returned to normal. It was like she’d watched us for a moment, and then left. Was she giving us privacy? Or planning to kill me in my sleep? I didn’t know. All I knew was that my perfect moment was over.

“You should go home now,” I said softly.

And I would wait to see just how angry Kayla was.

I
barely slept Wednesday night, tossing and turning, my consciousness on high alert. At any movement of air, any creak or slight sound in the house, my eyes snapped open and my heart pounded loudly in my ears. I expected the worst, but nothing happened.

Maybe Kayla wasn’t mad. Maybe she was glad Donovan was happy and moving on.

Or maybe she was just biding her time …

In class on Thursday, Kane asked if we were still on for Saturday night. I told him yes and suggested the clearing again. I needed something decidedly friendly and not “datey” and somewhere Kayla’s friends would be.

As weird as I felt making plans with Kane after what had happened with Donovan, I had to keep focused on my main goal: solving Kayla’s murder.

Donovan was standing against my locker after last period, waiting for me with a crooked smile. It was clear that our kiss had changed everything. I’d been so aware of him all day, like my entire being was attuned to his proximity. In the cafeteria at lunch, I felt his eyes on me while I was chatting with Alexa, and I couldn’t stop grinning. In between periods, we passed
each other once in the hall, and I felt electricity shoot through my body. My pulse quickened, my temperature rose, my mind raced. No one else had ever had that effect on me before. It was wonderful and intoxicating but … the timing was wrong.

Romance could not be the focus of my life right now. Protecting Colby was my top priority. So finding Kayla’s killer had to come before everything else. Donovan had texted me that morning that he had an idea for our “project” that he’d tell me about after school. Unfortunately, I also had something to share with him. Something I didn’t know how he’d react to.

I reached my locker and felt the spark from being near him again. He leaned forward and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. But I involuntarily stumbled back a step and looked around to see if anyone had seen.

Uncertainty flickered in Donovan’s eyes, then went away. He probably figured I was against PDA. “So,” he said, choosing to ignore the awkward moment. “Ready to hear my idea?”

All I could feel was the invisible mark on my cheek where his lips just were. I wanted to throw my arms around his neck and repeat yesterday’s make-out session, right there in the hallway. But we couldn’t. And I had to tell him that.

“Sure,” I said, my voice barely audible.

He shifted his backpack from one shoulder to the other. “I think we should pay a visit to Kayla’s parents.”

I had to admit, I’d thought of that. But the idea gave me a rotten feeling. “They moved,” I said.

“Only a couple towns away. I found their new address online. We can head over there and ask them some questions. See if they can think of anything that might help us.”

“I don’t know …” My voice trailed off. It seemed dirty to be interrogating Kayla’s grieving parents. And I wasn’t about to tell them she wasn’t at rest — they didn’t need to hear that after what they’d been through.

“The only thing is …” Donovan paused. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to … you know … act like a couple in front of them. I haven’t seen them since the funeral, and they probably still think of me as Kayla’s boyfriend and —”

I put up a hand and stopped him midsentence. “I agree.” I took a deep breath. This was the conversation I’d been dreading all day. But now that it had come up naturally, I had to just say it. “Actually, I’ve been thinking we should keep our … keep …
us
… a secret for now.”

His eyes met mine, and there was no mistaking his disappointment.

The last thing I’d wanted was to hurt him. I started babbling. “Just until we find out the truth about who killed Kayla. After that, she can be at peace and we can … move on.”

He tilted his head to the side. “You’re scared of what she might do?”

“Yeah.”
Among other things.

Donovan scratched the back of his neck. “I guess I’m okay with keeping it a secret for now.”

Our talk was going easily so far. Might as well get it all out.
“And there’s one other thing.” I shifted my books into the crook of my arm. “I’m supposed to hang out with Kane again Saturday night.”

He shrugged. “So cancel it.”

“I kind of don’t want to.”

Donovan’s features fell. He looked nearly shattered. So I spoke quickly before I hurt him even more. “Not like that. I want to go so I can learn more. For our project. Kane can give me access to her old group. Her friends.”

He took a moment to let this sink in. “That’s why you went to the clearing with him before,” he said with tentative relief.

I nodded quickly. “I don’t have feelings for him. But he and I, hanging out together, could give us the answers we need.”

Donovan lightly blew out a long breath. “For the record, I don’t like any of this. Hiding. Going out with Kane.”

“It’s temporary.”

“I know.” He reached up to push his hair out of his eyes, out of habit since his hair wasn’t even long anymore. His fingers instead raked down his cheek. “Just promise me one thing. When you go out with him, go somewhere public. Don’t be alone with him.”

“Why?” I cracked a smile. “Jealous?”

He didn’t smile back. Worry lines creased his forehead. “I just don’t completely trust him.”

Donovan and Kane obviously had no love for each other. But on my drive to Kayla’s parents, Donovan’s warning stuck in
my head and made me start thinking. Could Kane have pushed Kayla? It didn’t feel right. Despite his player reputation, Kane had been nothing but a gentleman with me.

But we were only starting to hang out. He and Kayla had known each other since they wrote with crayons. A relationship like that runs deep. And, perhaps, after years of always getting whoever he wanted — except Kayla — Kane couldn’t stand it anymore. He seethed every time he saw her with Donovan. And figured if he couldn’t have her … no one could.

And then Faye’s words echoed in my head. About Kane only hanging with me to feel closer to Kayla …

I gripped the steering wheel tighter and forced myself to focus on the road. That line of thought wasn’t giving me any answers, only the willies. I stopped at a light and looked down at the crumpled paper on my lap. Donovan had scribbled down directions he’d gotten online to the Sloanes’ new place. I decided it was best to go alone, but I didn’t even know what I was going to ask them yet. Or how I’d even bring it up.

Hi! I’m Jade! I’m living in your dead daughter’s house. She was a bully in life, and guess what? She’s still one in death, and she’s forcing me to solve her murder. Can you help?

I sighed heavily. This was a bad idea.

The light turned green, and I took a left. The drive was only twenty minutes, but the town seemed a world away. It was more rural, a bit run-down. I actually laughed out loud when I saw a pickup on blocks in someone’s side yard, because it reminded me of my hometown.

Why did the Sloanes move from Woodbridge to here? It seemed like a strange choice.

I finally reached their road and squinted at the number on the first house. My foot lifted off the accelerator and the car slowed while the numbers counted down. As 129 Gillums Road came into view, the car coasted to a stop, and I threw it into park.

This had to be a mistake.

I looked down at the paper and back up at the house before me. It was a rental. One half of a duplex. From what I’d heard from kids at school, the Sloanes weren’t exactly known for their humble living. They were downright materialistic. From Kayla’s clothes to Mr. Sloane’s luxury cars to Mrs. Sloane’s beautifully appointed, grand colonial home.

It
was
only natural for Mr. and Mrs. Sloane to want to leave the house their daughter had died in and, yeah, now that it was only two of them they could downsize. Buy a cute smaller place in a different neighborhood. But this wasn’t downsizing. This was downgrading. The paint was peeling, weeds reached out of cracks in the driveway. Donovan must have given me the wrong address.

The front door opened and I slunk down in my seat. Mr. Sloane lumbered down the two cement stairs and bent over to pick up the bundled newspaper on the driveway. His hair was greasy and forked out in all directions. His open robe barely concealed the fact that he was only wearing boxers underneath. It was late afternoon and he wasn’t even dressed. I recognized him from some pictures online, but he was like a
different man. In those pictures, with Kayla and her mother, he was always wearing a suit and looking well put together.

My heart sank as I realized what happened. He must have quit his job. Her parents were so overtaken by grief they were unable to work. They couldn’t afford another house like their last one because they couldn’t gather the strength to go to a job every day.

I rested my head on the steering wheel and closed my eyes.
What was I doing here?
I wasn’t walking up to that door. Kayla’s parents were a mess. My conscience wouldn’t let me add to their grief. I’d have to figure this thing out without them.

With one last glance, I put the car into gear and pulled away.

During the drive home, the sky turned from a light gray to a dark, metallic color. The clouds were sweeping past quickly, a sign that it was going to pour. I parked in the empty driveway, wondering where Marie and Colby were. They should have been home from his swimming lesson by now.

A big gust of wind shook the trees. Leaves rained down around me as I walked up the path to the front door. I used my key to get in and closed the door behind me. As usual, I felt the air with my senses, checking for Kayla’s energy. Something wasn’t right. It didn’t feel like Kayla, but the house felt unnatural. Probably because it was too dark for the late afternoon, due to the encroaching storm.

I flipped on lights as I made my way to the kitchen. There was a note from Marie on the table:

Went grocery shopping.
Please put the lasagna in the oven at 4:00.

I glanced at the clock. It was already four thirty. Whoops. I hit the preheat button on the oven and wandered back to the living room.

The sky had darkened in only minutes, like someone had slipped a veil over the world. The wind moaned, rattling the windowpanes. I gazed outside. Rain would soon start pounding. Maybe even one of those rare fall thunderstorms. I leaned in and pressed my nose against the cool glass.

And jerked back when I heard a muffled thump from upstairs.

I froze and held my breath, listening hard. A creak, followed by a soft scrape — movement. Marie never would have left Colby home alone when she went to the store. I dashed to the bottom of the staircase and called out, “Hello?”

Silence. I peered up at the landing. Because of the darkness, I expected to see the glow of the bathroom nightlight casting an orange radiance across the hallway. But there were no lights on.

I thought I saw shadows collecting in the gathering dark, forming a person, a girl. It looked real, too real. I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes. I was driving myself crazy, putting my imagination into overdrive. Kayla wasn’t at the top of the stairs. I just thought she was because I half expected her to be.

I waited motionlessly for a few moments until another sound filled the void — a loud snap, like wood splintering. It came from the direction of Colby’s room. Kayla’s room. Panic swelled inside me like a wave. Kayla must have finally been delivering retribution for my kiss with Donovan.

My heart pounded harder and harder as I took the stairs up, one by one. I imagined tendrils of black reaching out for me, waiting at the top, readying to push me. I pressed on, grasping the railing in a death grip, tighter and tighter the higher I rose. I reached the landing and immediately scurried to the right, away from the gaping hole of the stairwell.

Cold air swirled down the hall. Not icy, like the usual blasts I felt now and then. It was refreshing, actually, since I was covered in a sudden sheen of sweat. Colby’s door was closed. My hand hesitated over the knob for a moment.

I steeled myself for what I would find inside. Some poltergeist-like trick with the furniture? Or perhaps just a traditional room trashing like she’d given mine. I turned the knob and gently nudged the door open with my shoulder, ready for anything.

But the room wasn’t trashed. I should have felt relief, but I was only confused. The closet door Colby always kept closed was open and so were some dresser drawers, but mostly the room seemed untouched. And the cold? That was nothing supernatural; it was coming in from the open window. I wondered briefly why Colby or Marie would have left it open, but as I stepped over to it, that confusion turned to fear.

It wasn’t only the window that was open. The screen was pushed up, too. Like someone had gone
out
the window. But no one could do that — unless they could fly. This was the second floor.

I leaned my head out, looked down, and my throat tightened. There
was
a way to get in and out — without the gift of flight. I stared at it and wondered why it hadn’t occurred to me before. It was one of my favorite touches to the house: the winding ivy.

Someone had climbed the trellis.

It hadn’t been Kayla making noise upstairs. It was a real live person. Someone had broken in and — when he or she heard me — broke back out via the trellis. But why? What did the person want? What had they done here?

I brought my head back in, pulled down the screen and the window, and locked it. I gazed at the woods beyond. We had no neighbor on this side. No one would have seen who it was.

A shiver coursed through me. The day Kayla died, Mr. Tucker swore up and down that he hadn’t seen anyone else come in or out of the house. And it made sense — from his viewpoint he could see both our front and side door. But he couldn’t see this side. Someone could have snuck in and out by climbing the trellis, and Mr. Tucker never would have seen them. In fact, if that was how the killer got in and out of the house
that
day, there was a good chance that it was that same person who’d done it now.

The killer had just been in my house.