All Unquiet Things (35 page)

He gaped at me. “You want to take a gun with you but you don’t know how to use it?”

“Just do it.”

“This is the safety,” he told me, turning the gun over and pointing to a latch near the trigger with the word
SAFE
etched into the metal casing. He switched the safety on. “You leave it like this, and don’t you dare put your finger anywhere near the trigger unless you’re willing to shoot something. If you are—and
don’t—
then switch the safety off, lift, aim, and pull.” He demonstrated. “But like I said—
don’t.”

“Thanks.” I took the gun, trying desperately to keep my hands from shaking.

“Wait, man, where are you going?” Adam called after me. “There’s something about Cass you should know!”

I didn’t stop. Audrey was probably with Cass at that very moment.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-
THREE

I
was sprawled out on Cass’s unmade bed wearing a T-shirt and a pair of his boxer shorts. Cass stroked my palm with his fingers and smiled at me.

“Well,” he said, climbing out of bed and grabbing a clean pair of jeans and a shirt from a chair nearby. “I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be out in a couple of minutes. Don’t take off on me.”

“I’ll stay right here, I promise.” He kissed me and headed into the adjoining bathroom.

I didn’t care what Neily believed, I trusted Cass. The afternoon before Neily attacked Adam at school, Cass called my grandparents’ house and asked to speak to me.

“Hi,” I said, trying to squelch my nerves.

“You didn’t answer your cell when I called.”

“I didn’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay. I just wanted to apologize for kissing you the other day. It was way out of line.”

“It was. But I forgive you,” I said.

“Good. Hey, can I come over? I’d like to talk—in person.”

I hesitated.

“Audrey?”

“Yeah. Come over. I’ll be waiting on the porch.”

He arrived fifteen minutes later and joined me on the porch swing. “What’s up?” he said.

“Nothing. Just enjoying the last warm days,” I said, leaning my head back.

“Weather report says the rain is coming. Not really looking forward to dodging idiots on the freeways,” Cass said. We were both looking out across the lawn onto the street, where a couple of kids were playing with their dogs. “What are we going to do about this?” he asked.

“About what?” I asked.

“Our feelings.”

“
Our
feelings?”

“Pretend all you want, but there was something in that kiss—I know it, and you know it. Acting like those feelings don’t exist is not going to make them go away.”

“Your friends will never be okay with you and me getting back together,” I pointed out.

“Oh, who cares? I’m over them. All they want to do is party and hook up. I don’t want that life anymore.” He put his hand over mine.

“I heard you and Adam had a fight,” I said.

“He thinks you’re bad news. I told him to go fuck himself.” He smiled and leaned in as if to kiss me, but I pulled away.

“I can’t do this right now. I have other things I need to focus on,” I insisted.

Cass’s smile faded. “What, like what happened to Carly? I can help, Aud. I know you say that Neily’s the only person you can trust, but if you just let me in a little you’ll see that you can trust me, too.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Who do you think killed Carly?”

He sat for a while in silence. “Honestly? I think the Bean might have done it.”

“Why do you say that?” I thought so, too, but I didn’t want to influence him.

“The Bean doesn’t have the best track record with girls. He stalked this one girl a few years ago.”

“He told you he stalked Allison Kessler?” I asked dubiously.

“Well, not in those words. He told me he was writing her these e-mails but that she wasn’t responding. I was like, ‘Bean, maybe she thinks you’re crazy and
that’s
why she’s ignoring you.’” Cass laughed. “Poor guy. All he ever wanted was somebody to give a damn about him.”

“Oh, yeah, poor guy,” I said sarcastically.

“Same thing with Carly. She was nice to the Bean and he just got totally wrapped up in it, spinning these wild fantasies about how they were going to go away with each other after she graduated and get married—crazy stuff. I tried to talk him into keeping quiet about it, but it got back to Adam and he was pretty pissed off. That’s how the Bean got tossed out of his gang.”

“How come you didn’t say anything to the police about the Bean being obsessed with Carly?”

“I thought he was over her.” Cass shrugged. “After Adam kicked him out of the group he stopped talking about it. Besides, the case against your dad seemed rock solid. Who was I to argue with the Empire Valley Police Department?”

“I found some letters in her family’s safe-deposit box. She thought Neily had written them, but he swears he never did. I think they’re from the Bean.”

“Really?” Cass asked. “Do you have them here? Can I see them?”

“Yeah, sure,” I said. “Give me a sec.” I went to my room and retrieved the letters. Cass read through them all thoroughly and recognized something.

“This sounds a lot like those e-mails the Bean sent to Allison. No capitals or punctuation, questionable spelling and grammar …”

“That’s what I thought,” I said, triumphant. “He was at your School’s Out for Summer party at the end of sophomore year, right? Lucy wasn’t making that up?”

“No, he was there. Why?”

“I think Carly was raped that night. I drove her home from the party, but I hadn’t seen her in hours and she was so out of it. I think she might’ve been drugged.”

Cass ran his hand through his hair. “And you think the Bean raped her?”

“There doesn’t seem to be any better explanation. The Bean knew where to get Special K—I read on the Internet that it’s sometimes used as a date rape drug. Carly didn’t know who gave her the drink that knocked her out. Her entire memory of that night was erased.”

“I’m confused. Did she tell you about the rape?”

I paused. “No. I found a diary when I was going through some of her stuff. She wrote about how she felt the next morning. She wasn’t sure at first.”

“But she didn’t say who did it?”

“I don’t think she knew. But I think she figured it out, or remembered it, the night of Lucy’s party. I think she realized what the Bean had done to her, and what he had done to Laura Brandt—”

“Wait, who’s Laura Brandt?”

I summarized the situation briefly. Cass let out a low whistle. “I can’t believe that Adam would tell the Bean to kill her.”

“He beat the shit out of the Bean just for telling everybody about his feelings for Carly,” I pointed out. “You think he wouldn’t do whatever he could to protect his operation?”

“Well, yeah, he’s big on covering his own ass, and he’s got a bad temper, but murder?”

“I don’t necessarily think Adam sent the Bean to kill Laura. I have this theory that he was doing it on the orders of Adam’s partner, that guy Barton. You sure you don’t know anything about him?”

Cass shook his head. “Only what I told you.”

“Well, the Bean had been kicked out of the gang and had lost his drug connections. Maybe he was trying to get on Barton’s good side by taking care of the Laura Brandt problem himself.”

“Yeah, maybe. You seriously think that the Bean is smart enough to pull all this off?”

“It’s the only scenario that fits.”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know. I can’t really prove it. I can go to the police with the letters, but even given the Bean’s record there’s no way
of being positive that they were from him—unless they have his fingerprints on them. My hope is that I can gather enough evidence to convince the police, and that when they question the Bean he caves and confesses.”

Cass sighed. “It sounds like you’re getting into some dangerous territory, Aud. If this Barton guy had Laura Brandt and Carly rubbed just to keep his operation under wraps, what makes you think he won’t come after you once the Bean is picked up?”

“Maybe I can get police protection, or hire a private security detail.”

“What, you’re going to get armed guards to follow you to school and sit in on your classes?”

“If it keeps me safe.”

“You always have a plan.” He glanced at his watch. “Look, I’ve got to go, but call me if you do anything. I want to be there with you when this all goes down, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I watched him go down the stairs and walk toward his car and it hit me: Neily was never going to get a second chance with Carly. I would be a fool to give up my second chance because of pride or hurt feelings. I got up and chased after him.

“Cass, wait!” I called. He turned around and smiled.

“What? You gonna tell me where Jimmy Hoffa is buried?” he asked as I reached him.

“Not exactly.” I leaned into him and put my lips to his. A shiver went up my spine as we stood on the lawn, kissing and pulling away and touching and kissing again. My mind seemed blank and all I could remember was how happy this had once made me. We stood there for what seemed like forever as the last rays of late-summer sun burned out at the horizon.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-
FOUR

T
he sun had gone down and Cass’s bedroom had grown chilly. I switched on a lamp on the nightstand and went to the bureau across the room to dig through his drawers for a pair of socks. I rummaged around, pushing aside a couple of belts and a bunch of handkerchiefs that were embroidered with his full name: Casper Barton Irving.

“Barton?” I said aloud. It occurred to me that during my entire relationship with Cass, I had never known his middle name. He wouldn’t tell anyone what it was, he claimed that it was embarrassing and he hated it. I told myself it was just a co-incidence that his middle name was the name of Adam’s psychotic business partner, but I don’t believe in coincidences. I
dropped the handkerchiefs and kept going through the drawer; a moment later, my hand brushed against something heavy and metal. I reached in and wrapped my fingers around the cold barrel of a gun.

I pulled my hand away as if burned. What was Cass doing with a gun? Unable to stop myself, I pulled out everything, dumping the drawer’s contents on the floor until all that was left was the gun and, in the very back right corner of the drawer, a small plastic bag. I grabbed it; inside the bag was a tarnished silver ring, one that I recognized immediately.

Bile rose in my throat; I barely made it into the hall bathroom, shaking as my stomach turned itself inside out over the toilet. When I was finished I rinsed the taste of vomit out of my mouth with water from the sink, then walked slowly back into the bedroom to get a better look at the ring. Placing the gun on top of the bureau, I shook the ring out of the bag and into my palm, turning it over in the light. It was definitely Carly’s—I couldn’t believe it, but it was indisputable. I slipped the ring onto my finger. It fit. Carly and I had the same ring size.

I picked up the gun. It wasn’t the one that killed Carly, that I knew, but it was as good as. Thoughts raced through my mind, images flashed, and the final pieces of the puzzle fell together with a resounding
click
.

“What are you doing?” Cass was behind me, his voice so soft and sweetly confused I couldn’t believe it was all an act. I turned on my heel.

“Is this your gun?” I asked, my voice wobbling with terror.

“No.” He took a step toward me and I raised the gun.

“Don’t come near me.” Cass was between me and the door, and I knew he wasn’t going to let me leave.

“Audrey—”

“Is this your
gun
, Cass?”

“I said no.”

“No?
Then what is it doing in your sock drawer?”

“I mean, yes, it’s mine, but it’s not what it looks like.”

I held up Carly’s ring. “What are you doing with
this?”

“I don’t know what that is,” he insisted.

“It’s Carly’s ring,” I almost shrieked. “The one she never took off her finger. Why do you have it?”

“I must’ve found it somewhere.”

“Where?”

“Christ, I don’t know. You need to calm down.”

“Don’t you
dare
tell me to calm down. You killed Carly.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“No. No it isn’t.
You
wrote those letters. This whole time I thought it was the Bean, and Carly thought it was Neily, but those letters were from
you
.”

“I didn’t write Carly those letters. Why would I do that? Give me the gun, Audrey. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“I’m going to hurt
you
if you get any closer.”

“You’d never shoot me. You don’t even know how to use a gun.”

“I’ll figure it out!” I shouted. “Why did you write those letters? Were you in love with her?”

“Of course not. I was in love with you. I still am. Give me the gun, come on.”