About That Night (12 page)

Jordie is horrified by the turn the conversation has taken. “I didn't do anything. I was home all night.”

“Something happened.” Mrs. Maugham clutches the sweater. “He was supposed to stay with you. He was supposed to be safe there. But he didn't stay. He left. Why?”

“I told you. We had a little argument—”

“Did he break up with you? Is that it? Did he break up with you and leave, and you followed him and… and…” Her eyes go to the bedside table. She reaches for something. The clock. “Did you do this?” she demands, holding it up for Jordie to see. “Did you break this?”

“No,” Jordie says. “It was like that.”

Mrs. Maugham tries to wind the clock—to no avail. Tears start to flow down her cheeks.

“I don't want you touching his things. Not after what you did.”

After what
I
did?

“I would never hurt Derek.” It's the absolute truth. Jordie has never hurt anyone, not physically anyway. “Never. I
liked
Derek.”

“
Liked
? You
liked
him? All he ever did was talk about you. He told anyone who would listen that he loved you, and you
liked
him? Get out.” Mrs. Maugham is trembling with rage. “Get out of my house and don't ever come back. If it wasn't for you, Derek would still be alive.”

“But Mrs. Maugham—”

“Get out! Get out!” She's shrieking the words at Jordie now, and when Jordie shrinks past her and starts down the stairs, Mrs. Maugham follows her, still screaming.

Mr. Maugham is at the bottom of the stairs, staring up at his wife and at Jordie.

“Marsha, what's wrong?”

“She's responsible. She drove our son out of her house that night. If he'd stayed put, he'd still be alive!”

Mr. Maugham whispers an apology as Jordie passes him.

“Don't you dare apologize to her!” Mrs. Maugham shrieks. “She knows more than she's letting on. I'm going to talk to the police about you. I'm going to tell them what you did!”

Jordie pulls her boots on as fast as her trembling hands will allow. She scrambles out the door and runs around the side of the house. She doesn't look back until she is halfway down to the rail trail. When she does, she sees Mrs. Maugham framed in the kitchen window, a telephone pressed against her ear.

» » »

Carly is sitting halfway down the stairs the next morning at ten thirty when Jordie finally gets out of bed. Jordie can't believe she's slept so late.

“What's—”

Carly raises a finger to her lips to silence her. “The cops are here,” she whispers.

“What for?”

“They're asking Mom and Dad about Derek and you.”

Jordie sinks down beside her sister. “What about me?”

But Carly is batting the air to silence her again. Too late. The voices have stopped. Jordie hears footsteps on the hardwood.

“Carly!” It's their father. “Carly, get down here.”

Carly runs down the stairs.

“Lieutenant Diehl wants to ask you some questions,” Mr. Cross says. “You can talk to her in the living room, lieutenant.”

Jordie stays where she is and listens to her father retreat to the kitchen. Lieutenant Diehl introduces himself. He uses a tone more appropriate for a kindergarten kid than for a fourteen-year-old like Carly, but Carly doesn't bristle the way she does when anyone else talks down to her. As far as Jordie knows, she has never been questioned by a cop before.

“Do you want one of your parents here while we talk?” Diehl asks.

“Are you going to arrest me for something?” Carly does not sound remotely intimidated.

“No. I just want to ask you a few questions about Derek Maugham. You know what happened, don't you?”

“Someone killed him.”

“That's right. Did you know him very well?”

“I guess. He was my sister's boyfriend.”

“I understand he was here the weekend before he died.”

“Yeah. His folks went out of town, but he couldn't tear himself away from Jordie—don't ask me why. So he stayed here. My parents are practically more in love with him than she is, if she's even in love with him anymore.”

Jeez, why did she say that?

“What do you mean, Carly? Did Derek and your sister have an argument?”

“No. Not that I know of anyway. What I mean is, my mom thinks he's the best thing ever, especially compared to Jordie's old boyfriend.” Jordie could kill her sister about now. “I think my mom wishes she'd marry someone like Derek. She invites him over all the time. And he's always doing stuff that makes my dad think he's the greatest, especially, since, you know, he's got two daughters and doesn't have the son he always wanted. Derek helps him when he's playing Mr. Handyman or whatever.” Carly is talking fast, which she only ever does when she's laying it on, trying to distract whoever she's talking to from the truth. But there's no way Diehl would know that.

“So they didn't have an argument?”

“Who?”

“Your sister and Derek.”

Jordie thinks she catches a hint of irritation.

“Not that I know of.”

“Were you here the whole weekend that Derek was here?”

“Sure. My best friend Tasha got to go to Florida with her parents. To Disney World. But my parents never want to do anything that fun. They make a big deal about Christmas. Mostly we sit around and get bored out of our skulls.”

She's avoiding saying something, Jordie is sure of it. But what?

“And Derek? Was he here the whole time?”

“He and Jordie went to the mall one day. And I think they took a couple of walks. Why?”

“Did he ever leave the house without your sister?”

“He went out to shovel with my dad.”

“Besides that, did he leave the house alone?”

“How would I know?” She's talking to him now the way she talks to their parents—without any reverence or respect.

“You didn't hear anything strange the night before he went missing, like maybe someone sneaking out of the house or into it?”

“No. Why? You think someone broke into our house?”

“You go to the same high school as your sister and Derek, correct?”

“Cor-
rect
.” Now she's flat-out mocking him. Jordie wonders how he feels about that.

“The way I recall high school, someone sees something and it gets around school pretty fast.”

“Probably way faster than you remember,” Carly says, “what with cell phones and Facebook and Twitter and stuff.”

“Was there anything going around about Derek and anyone else? Anyone he didn't get along with or someone who maybe had a grudge against him?”

Jordie holds her breath.

“You mean, besides Ronan?”

Jordie wants to strangle her sister.

“Ronan?” Diehl says.

“Jordie's old boyfriend.”

“This Ronan—what's his last name?”

“Barthe. Ronan Barthe.”

“He had a grudge against Derek?”

“Well, duh,” Carly says. “Jordie broke up with him and started going with Derek.”

“And he didn't take it well?”

“Would you?”

“Did he make trouble for Derek?”

“I heard he was really pissed at him.”

“You heard? What specifically did you hear?”

“Just what I told you.”

“Did you ever see the two of them together—Derek and Ronan? Did you ever see them fight or argue?”

“No. But I bet if you ask around, you'll find someone who did. Because I heard that Ronan was ready to punch Derek out—”

Jordie knows then that she has to do something. She screams.

She hears footsteps on the kitchen tile. The door opens and her father runs for the stairs. By the time he gets there, Jordie is on her feet, her head in her hands, and she is sobbing for all she's worth. She chances a peek through her fingers and sees Carly and her mom behind her dad. In the background is Diehl.

“I—I had a nightmare. It was about Derek.”

Her mother nudges her father aside, comes up the stairs and wraps her arms around Jordie. Carly is frowning. Please, please, please, don't say another word, Jordie thinks.

Her dad turns to Diehl.

“We're going to have to continue this another time,” he says.

Diehl's face is bland, unreadable, but he nods. “No problem. Maybe you could bring Carly by later in the day, or maybe tomorrow. It's not urgent.”

Jordie's dad thanks him and shows him to the door. Jordie's mom guides her upstairs to her room. Carly follows.

“Keep your sister company,” Mrs. Cross tells Carly. “I'll put the kettle on for tea.”

“Great idea, Mom,” Carly says. “There hasn't been a problem created that a cup of steaming tea can't solve.”

If Celia hears the sarcasm in her younger daughter's voice, she gives no sign of it.

Carly plops down on the side of Jordie's bed. “Really? A nightmare? When you were already awake?” More sarcasm. Always more.

“I had to shut you up somehow.”

“Shut me up? What did I say that was so bad?”

“Did you have to drag Ronan into this?”

“I was just answering questions,” Carly says. “And anyway, since when do you care about Ronan? Last I heard, he was poison to you. And for all you know, he could have been the one to smash Derek's head in.”

“He would never!”

Carly rears back. There is nothing fake or dramatic about the gesture. She is impressed by her sister's vehemence. “Mr. Devil Incarnate is now some kind of angel of sweetness and light?”

“He's not a murderer, and you know it.”

“No, I don't.” Carly is back to her unflustered self. “And I'm sure you don't want me to lie to the police, do you?”

“Why not? You lie to Mom and Dad all the time. You probably lie to me too.” Jordie is furious.

“Okay, fine, so I won't say anything else about Ronan to the cops.”

“Great.” But Jordie knows it's already too late. She has no doubt that Diehl will follow up on what Carly has told him.

“But it's not going to make any difference.”

“Because?”

“Because if the cops talk to anyone at school, they'll tell them that Ronan was pissed at Derek for”—air quotes come into play—“
stealing
you from him. And if they talk to Deedee, well, it'll probably be game over for him.” Deedee is one of Carly's massive circle of annoying ninth-grade friends.

The stealing part, of course, isn't true. The breakup was Ronan's call, but Jordie never told her sister that. She never told anyone, but especially not Carly. The taunts would only have caused more strife than usual:
You got dumped by Ronan Barthe? What a loser—you, Jordie, not him.
But what's this about Deedee?

“What do you mean? What does Deedee have to do with anything?”

“She was the one who told me when it happened. She was there.”

“When what happened?”

“When Ronan was ready to pulverize Derek, which he would have done if Mr. Merriwether hadn't come along. Jeez, I don't get how a guy that big and that built—he looks like he could knock the crap out of Tyson or Holyfield or any of those guys—ends up with a name like Carmine Merriwether. If names had anything to do with the people who walked around with them, he'd be named, I don't know, John Widowmaker or Jack Death. He wouldn't have such a girly doofus name.”

“Now, Carly, you know it isn't nice to make fun of people's names.” It's their mother, with a mug of steaming tea and a plate of cookies, both of which she hands to Jordie.

“Gee, Mom, you shouldn't have,” Carly says, all sarcastic again.

“You have a dishwasher to empty, young lady.”

“It's Jordie's turn!”

“Scoot,” says Mrs. Cross.

“Let her stay for a few minutes, Mom,” Jordie says.

Of course, Carly jumps up off the bed, ready to leave now that she's been asked—well, sort of—to stay.

“Come on, Carly, stay. I'll empty the dishwasher for you. I promise.”

“For real promise?”

“For real.”

Carly sits down again. Mrs. Cross sighs.

“It's moments like these, rare as they are, that I cherish. You girls have no idea how much I wished I'd had a sister instead of four brothers.” She kisses Carly on the top of her head. “Never mind.
I' ll
empty the dishwasher.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Jordie says.

“Thanks, Mom,” Carly mutters in irritation once her mother is out of earshot. “I totally don't get what you ever did to be treated like a princess around here, Little Miss Perfect. Jeez, if Mom only knew…”

“You were telling me about Ronan and Derek,” Jordie says.

“And you were about to promise that you'd empty the dishwasher for the entire month of January.”

“Now you're blackmailing me?”

“Don't be silly. You're
incentivizing
me.”

Jordie rolls her eyes. “Okay. Whatever.”

“You know what happens when you break a promise, right?”

“Just tell me about Derek and Ronan.”

“Pass the cookies.”

Jordie feels like throwing the plate at her. “Spill.”

Carly takes a bite of a Santa sugar cookie. “Deedee says she was at her locker on the last day of school, and she heard a loud bang, like someone had slammed into a locker around the corner. So she went to take a look. Ronan had Derek up against a bank of lockers outside one of the chem labs, and he was telling him he wanted what was his.”

“What did he mean?” Jordie asks, even though she knows what it was about because Derek told her.

“What do you think?” Carly can't keep the sarcasm from her voice. “You.” She takes another bite of cookie. “Don't ask me why though.”

It's clear that neither Carly nor Deedee knows about the bracelet.