Two Truths and a Lie (28 page)

She rounded a corner into the kitchen, where liquor bottles lined the counter along with half-eaten bags of Fritos and abandoned plastic cups. A girl with short black hair poured tequila and margarita mix into a blender and pressed a button, sending the contents whirling. The shrill buzz of the blender and the sweet smell of lime filled the kitchen and followed Emma down a dark hallway. She trailed her fingertips along the wall to get her bearings and ducked into a back room. Moonlight spilled through an open window to illuminate dark wooden floors and long windows. There were only two objects in the room: a long, cracked mirror propped up in the corner and a small doll with marble eyes sitting on the windowsill. Emma turned away from the doll, an eerie feeling washing over her.

Pressing the voicemail icon, she lifted Sutton’s phone to her ear. A loud voice boomed through the speaker. “Hello. This message is for Sutton Mercer. It’s Detective Quinlan. I need to speak to you. Please call me at this number—it’s my cell. I’ll have it on me all night. It’s urgent, so call me as soon as you get this.”

An emergency?
Emma’s fingertips prickled. She gripped the phone, ready to dial the number, when a loud crash sounded outside the room. She jumped and turned around. Bass reverberated through the house. Laughter echoed off the walls. Even though she was alone, it was still too loud for her to have a real conversation. She let herself out of the room, glancing once more at the eerie, glassy-eyed doll, and headed for the back door.

The back of the house boasted a patio that butted up to the mountains. There was a small trail at the edge of the property; Emma walked toward it, wanting to put as much distance as possible between herself and the loud party. Twigs and dried leaves cracked beneath her feet. She scrolled through Sutton’s phone and selected the most recent missed call.

Quinlan answered on the first ring.

“This is Sutton,” Emma said shakily.

“Hello, Miss Mercer.” Quinlan’s voice was tight. “I thought you should know that Thayer posted bail. We had no choice but to release him.”

“
What?
” Emma gasped. “When?”

“A few hours ago.”

Her heart was pounding so fast she was sure it was going to explode from her chest. Thayer had been on the loose for a few
hours
? “Did Mr. Vega change his mind?” Did Madeline know? Why wouldn’t she have said anything?

“It wasn’t Mr. Vega,” Quinlan said.

“Who was it?” Emma demanded, passing the wooden sign that marked the beginning of the trail.

There was a long pause. Emma listened to breathing on the other end. “Look,” Quinlan finally said. “I noticed how freaked out you were about Thayer in the station the other day. If there’s anything you want to tell me about him, any reason you might be afraid of him, you should speak up now. Normally I don’t believe a word you’re saying, but I know you’re either hiding something or are truly scared of something. Which is it, Sutton?”

Emma ran her tongue over her teeth. If only she could tell Quinlan the truth. If only he’d believe her.

“After months of hiding, he resurfaced in your bedroom, Sutton,” Quinlan went on. “If there’s any reason he might want to hurt you, we can protect you.”

Emma shut her eyes. Protection was what she wanted most in the whole world. But Quinlan
wouldn’t
believe her if she told him the truth. He would think she was making it up. Or, worse, if he bought the story that she was Sutton’s twin, he’d think she was the murderer. “I’ll be fine,” she mumbled.

Quinlan’s breath caught on the other end. “Okay,” he said after a pause. “Well, you know where to find me if you change your mind.” The line went dead.

Somewhere in the distance, a coyote howled. Emma’s fingers trembled as she stuffed the phone into Sutton’s clutch. Had she just made a huge mistake? Should she have told Quinlan the truth, now that Thayer was on the loose?

Snap.

Emma whipped around, suddenly on alert. She’d wandered so far onto the trail during her talk with Quinlan that she was surrounded by darkness. She couldn’t see the house anymore. She spun in every direction, trying to make sense of which way she needed to walk to get back to the party. The wind whistled through the desert brush.

“Hello?” she called out. Silence. She took a step in one direction, then another. “Hello?” All sound had fallen away. It was like she was in the middle of nowhere.

A hand landed on the back of her shoulder. Emma froze, her body going cold. All at once, she realized her mistake in wandering out there alone in the darkness. It was Thayer. It had to be. He’d come back to hurt her, just like he’d hurt her sister. She hadn’t been listening to his messages carefully enough. She hadn’t been playing along.

“
Sutton
,” a voice whispered.

The hiss of my name echoed over and over in my head. All at once, I felt the same bright, snapping sensation and familiar tingle. Another memory was coming, maybe the final piece to what happened to me that terrible night. I surrendered to the vision, letting it take me away.

28

“Sutton!”

Thayer’s fingers dig into my upper arm as he yanks me into the thick brush. I kick and scream as he clamps a hand over my mouth again and drags me farther from the parking lot. The brush thickens and attacks my skin in sharp scrapes. Tears sting my eyes and blur my vision, but I can’t wipe them away—he’s got my arms pinned against my sides as he heaves my body over the dirt.

“Thayer, stop!” My voice is muffled against his grip. My feet kick out and send leaves and soil flying.

Thayer drops me carefully to the ground and angles my body against the scratchy bark of a tree’s thick trunk. “Jesus, Sutton, stop screaming for one freaking second.”

I pry his hand from my mouth and take gulping breaths. I’m ready to let out another yell when I see Thayer’s shoulders relax. He drops his arms and plants his hands on his knees, out of breath. “You’re faster than I thought,” he says. His eyes scan the brush over his shoulder. “I’m trying to protect you. I think we got away in time.”

“Wait, what?” I ask, blinking hard. It takes a moment for my thoughts to recalibrate as Thayer cuts through the brush onto the main road. I trail after him. “Was someone chasing us?
Who?
”

Thayer shakes his head. “Trust me, you don’t want to know,” he pants.

“Thayer, tell me what you—”

Tires screech behind us, and I turn just in time to see a car careening out of the Sabino Canyon lot. Off-yellow, perfectly round headlights rapidly advance on us, and with a jolt I realize it’s my Volvo—my father and I restored the vintage headlights, which look different from modern-day Xenons.

My insides whirl with fear and surprise. I dart off the path, nearly impaling myself on a prickly pear. Then I turn to Thayer next to me. “Someone’s in my car!”

“H-how?” Thayer asks slowly, still breathing hard.

But there’s no time to explain about how I’d dropped my keys by the door. The car barrels straight at us, the tires squealing. I can’t make out the driver’s face, but whoever it is has straight, determined arms locked on the steering wheel. Thayer freezes in the middle of the road, right in the car’s path.

“Thayer!” I scream. “Get out of the way!”

But it’s too late. The car strikes him with a sickening thud. Time slows as Thayer’s body flies into the air, crumpling against the windshield with a loud
crack.

“Thayer!” I wail again.

With the scream of rubber on pavement, the car reverses. Thayer rolls off the hood and the car speeds away. The headlights click off and the car vanishes, leaving us in eerie silence.

I can barely feel my legs as I stumble to where Thayer’s body lies limp on the ground. His leg is twisted awkwardly. There’s blood on his head. He looks at me weakly, letting out a low moan. “Oh my God,” I whisper. “We have to get you to the hospital.” My thinking is suddenly crystal clear. I reach into my pocket for my phone. “I’ll call 911.”

“No,” Thayer moans, grabbing my hand with what strength he has left. “I don’t want my parents to know I’m here. They can’t know I’m back in town.” His breathing heaves. “I need to go to a different hospital. Somewhere out of town.”

“That’s impossible. I can’t drive you anywhere. Some maniac has my car,” I protest.

“Laurel.” Thayer reaches a hand into the pocket of his shorts and pulls out his own cell phone. “She’ll do it. I’ll call her.”

A twinge of jealousy spikes my insides. I don’t want Laurel doing this for him. I don’t want my sister sharing in the secret that he’s back. But this isn’t time to get territorial. I sit back on my haunches, feeling helpless. “Okay. Call her.”

Thayer dials, and I hear ringing. “Laurel?” he says when she answers. “It’s … me.”

There is a sharp gasp on the other end; surely Laurel is incredulous. She has every right to be. As far as I know, Thayer hasn’t contacted anyone since June. Except me.

“I’m hurt,” Thayer goes on. “I need you to come and get me.”

Thayer holds up a hand. “I can’t explain, okay? I just need you to go with me on this. I’m at Sabino Canyon.”

He gives her the rest of the details, and I can tell by his relieved expression that Laurel said she’d do it. When he hangs up, I rest my hand on the stubble lining Thayer’s jaw. He feels too cold and his eyes are wild like an animal’s. Blood seeps from the wound on his head. Whenever he moves he winces; his leg is bent horribly.

“I’m so sorry,” I say softly, trying hard not to cry again. “I don’t understand what happened. I don’t know who could have been following us. I should have never suggested we come here.”

“Sutton.” Thayer’s eyebrows narrow in concentration. “This isn’t your fault.”

But I can’t help feeling that it is. I freaked out and ran away from Thayer. I dropped my keys at my car. I bend my face close to Thayer’s and rest my head on his chest. All of my fears about him seem so unfounded. I’d let myself get caught up in the rumors about him instead of trusting that he loved me.

Before I know it, headlights appear on the road, almost as if Laurel’s been waiting around the corner. I stand up and Thayer glances at me with surprise. “Where are you going?”

“I have to hide,” I tell him. “No one should know we’ve been talking. Laurel will keep the secret that you’re back in town, but not if she knows I’m involved.”

Thayer looks shocked, maybe even a little scared. “But …”

“Believe me,” I interrupt. “This is the best way.” I press my lips to his. I can barely make myself pull away, but when I do, I tell him, “I’ll be in touch as soon as I can—look for my note.”

I clamber up the side of a small hill packed with desert sand and hide behind a cluster of thick bushes. The headlights grow brighter and bounce along the trail, illuminating rocks and slick mud. Laurel’s car skids to a halt, and her door flies open. She explodes from the car and runs to Thayer’s side, her blonde hair flying.

“Thayer!” she cries, dropping to a crouch and putting a hand on his arm. “What happened? Are you okay?”