In the Club (15 page)

Time to bounce,
Lex thought. She darted across the lot. She squeezed in between cars and hopped onto bumpers. The front of the lot was only twenty yards away, but it felt like the longest distance she had ever known. She wanted to get back to the limo and out of here. She wanted to call Madison and Park and report her findings. Maybe they would be able to add this little nugget of information to the whole picture. Julian buying drugs—what did it mean?

The question was floating through her mind so intensely, she didn’t notice the short fat guy directly in front of her. Lex slammed into him with a startled “Oh!” and then jumped back, clutching the purse to her chest.

The little guy gave her a once-over and smiled. He was an older man, dressed in a dirty T-shirt and jeans. The orange construction hat gave away his job description. “You should watch where you’re going, little lady,” he said calmly as he opened the door of his truck.

“I’m sorry.” Lex gulped. She knew her voice sounded frightened. She cleared her throat and assumed a confident posture. “I was just hurrying back to my car.”

“You looking for somebody here?” the guy asked.

“Um, no.” She shook her head. “I was just coming to see if the new condo complex was up yet. That’s what you’re building here, right?”

A hearty laugh escaped the man’s lips. “Condo complex? No, honey. We’re here widening a water tunnel. It’s a good thing you weren’t here earlier—we were blasting away at all that rock those environmental people were fighting to keep.”

Lex smiled politely and slipped past him. And then she stopped dead in her tracks and spun around. “Did you say you guys were
blasting
down here today?”

“Yeah.” The man nodded vigorously. “Why? You here to protest or something? You one of those tree huggers?”

“No, of course not,” Lex replied quickly. “I guess I just got lost—I’m in the wrong place. Um…so…you guys were using explosives, right?”

“No, we were using chewing gum.” The man rolled his eyes, chuckled, and then took off his hard hat and threw it onto the front seat of his truck. “If you’re gonna blast something, of course you use explosives. Jeez…”

Lex backed away and watched as the man drove off. She was so dazed by the facts swimming in her brain that she actually had to steady herself against the side of a red Honda Civic.

Julian hadn’t come here to buy drugs. He had come here to buy explosives. Or the chemicals that would make explosives. That was the transaction she had witnessed.

The little plastic bag. The white powder.

Oh, my God.

She wondered in that moment if Damien had witnessed the same thing.

Her heart slamming in her chest, she steadied herself and dashed back to the edge of the lot. She hung a left just as the yellow cab drove away. “Shit,” she muttered, realizing that she was too late, that she and Donnie wouldn’t be able to trail Julian to wherever else he was going.

She clenched her fists. There were several cars moving in and out of the lot now. Instead of rushing, Lex decided to walk back to the limo at a normal pace. If she looked calm and cool, no one would notice her. She lowered her sunglasses onto the bridge of her nose and scanned the lot, trying to give off the impression that she was searching for her car.

That was when Lex noticed the familiar figure standing at the southern end of the lot—a tall, slim, black-clothed woman leaning against the open door of a pickup truck. She was talking into a cell phone and digging through a light blue tote bag.

Lex blinked once, then gasped.

Sister Brittany had just lit a cigarette.

14

Someone’s Big Muscles

T
he little diner on Second Avenue was exactly what Madison wanted: it was quiet and cozy and tucked in between two apartment buildings, and the old waitresses working the floor looked worn out and uninterested in their customers. After the stress of the day, Madison needed to be in a place where she could just relax. But her nerves were wound too tightly, and she kept rearranging the food on her plate.

“Are you ever gonna eat that?” Theo asked. He was sitting directly across from her, happily chomping down on a thick hamburger piled with tomatoes, onions, mozzarella, and ketchup.

“I
am
eating,” Madison shot back. She popped a french fry into her mouth. She pushed her fork around her Caesar salad. It was no good. Her stomach was in knots and she couldn’t stop thinking about Concetta, about Damien, and about what awaited her, Park, and Lex tomorrow in the Chamber.

She and Theo were sitting at a corner table beside one of the windows. It was dusk. The sky was shot with streaks of purple, the skyscrapers still burning with lights. A comfortable Saturday evening in June. If her mind weren’t so focused on the murder investigation, Madison knew she and Theo would probably be hitting a club or a party, or eating dinner at a trendy restaurant on West Broadway. She felt guilty for making him come here to this greasy, nondescript diner. She just wasn’t in the mood for photographers or reporters or curious onlookers. And besides, she and Theo really hadn’t had a quiet night alone together in a long time.

She was sitting at their little square table in a boyish green T-shirt and jeans, a Yankees baseball cap pulled over her head. The casual disguise seemed to be working. When she looked up from her plate, she saw Theo staring at her intently. “What is it?” she asked, instinctively running her napkin across her lips.

“Nothing. You just seem so…out of it.” He frowned.

“Oh. I thought I had ketchup on my face or something.”

“You’d still look hot if you did.”

“Thanks.” She smiled wearily. “I know I’m not being the best girlfriend tonight. I’m sorry for that.”

“I know you liked Damien a lot,” Theo said quietly. “I don’t blame you for being down in the dumps. I still can’t believe what happened. I mean, I wish I’d known him better, but we never really clicked. He was just so crazy.”

“He had that kind of personality,” Madison replied. “Always trying to make people laugh.”

“Or cry.”

“Yeah, but never in a vicious way. That’s what I liked about him.”

Theo finished the rest of his burger, then gulped down his soda. “Now, I knew Concetta a little better,” he said. “Nice girl. A little weird, but she always seemed cool. I can’t
believe
she actually killed Damien like that.”

Madison stayed quiet. She poked at the salad with her fork again.
Maybe. But maybe not.

“I mean, under all that nice-girl stuff, she was hiding a psychopathic personality,” Theo said. “So Damien didn’t like her enough to be romantically involved with her. Big deal. That’s no reason to kill the poor guy. Like, get over it.”

Madison took a deep breath. She pushed the plate to the side of the table.

“And what the hell was with that whole Mozart playing on the speakers?” he continued. “So stupid. Did she really think she’d get away with it?”

Madison glanced away, her eyes scanning the traffic on Second Avenue. Night was falling slowly and she suddenly felt very warm.

“Mads? Hello?”

“What?”

“Why are you acting so strange?” he asked her sharply. “Look at me.”

She did. “What do you want me to say? I’m just upset.”

“You’re hiding something from me.”

Damn.
She clenched her fists at her sides. Sometimes she hated that Theo was so perceptive when it came to figuring her out. He could take one look at her and know she wasn’t feeling well or that she’d had an argument with Park or Lex. He could spot an excited gleam in her eyes and guess that she had good news to share with him. She, on the other hand, had never had that ability. She wasn’t good at deciphering a person’s mood, and she was even worse at hiding her own emotions.

Now she glanced away from him again. She couldn’t spill the facts that she, Park, and Lex had uncovered. She couldn’t talk about the theft at St. Cecilia’s or about the traces of dynamite found in Mother Margaret’s office. She hated keeping secrets, but Theo didn’t exactly have a steel tongue: he’d end up blabbing the facts to everyone, albeit inadvertently. “I’m not hiding anything,” she muttered.

“Yes you are.” Theo leaned across the table and planted a kiss on her cheek. “What is it? Are you worried that the media is gonna screw up the chance for Cleopatra to be the most popular nightclub on the planet? It might happen, ya know. It’ll be forever known as the site of a gory murder.”

“I’m not really worried about that,” she said. “And with how crazy people are, Damien’s murder will probably bring more clubgoers to Cleopatra. You know how morbid public curiosity is. Everyone will probably want to dance in the cages just to say they did it.”

“Yeah, you have a point there. So then, what is it? You worried about all the negative publicity our little school is gonna get? Don’t be. St. Cecilia’s will survive. And once Concetta’s in the slammer and justice is served, everything will work itself out.”

“Don’t talk like that, okay?” she snapped. And immediately regretted it.

“Whoa. What did I say?”

Madison sighed. She ran her hands over her face. “I just don’t want to hear any bad things about Concetta, that’s all.”

“What?”
Theo sat back in his chair, a shocked expression on his face. “Are you nuts? You should be happy to hear bad things about Concetta after what she did.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“Oh, no? You mean you think she’s still gonna be your friend from death row?”

“Theo, stop.”

“I just don’t get it,” he ranted. “You knew Damien pretty well, and then he gets killed and everyone knows who killed him and you don’t seem angry at Concetta at all. I’d totally want to pop her head off.”

An image flashed before Madison’s eyes: the splayed, chubby fingers of Concetta’s hands, and Concetta’s desperate tear-streaked face.
I didn’t kill him. I didn’t kill him.
Madison couldn’t help but imagine Concetta dancing happily in that cage at Cleopatra one minute and then dashing down the staircase in panic the next, limping on one stiletto as the strobe lights spun wildly, her big body wobbling. The whole scenario
was
plausible. But had Julian Simmons—angry with Damien and having dropped a comment about wanting to blow up the school—run up the stairs and committed murder in cold blood instead?

She didn’t know. She wouldn’t know until after the Black Cry Affair was fully revealed to her.

“I mean, the horror of it all,” Theo was saying, “is just unbelievable. My mom called Damien’s parents this morning, and she said Damien’s mom was beside herself.”

Madison looked at Theo. “Did Damien’s mom say anything else?”

“Just that they were waiting for his body to be released from the morgue,” Theo said. “And that it would be flown to England for proper services. But apparently the body isn’t being released anytime soon, and no one knows why. Damien’s mom said that agents from New Scotland Yard had been in their town house all night, trying to make sense of things.”

“And did they? The agents, I mean. New Scotland Yard.”

“I guess so. Damien’s mom said she felt guilty because Damien had been acting weird lately.”

Madison perked up. “Weird in what way?”

“I don’t know. I think she told my mom that Damien had been edgy and nervous. Something like that. But when did Damien ever sit still?”

Madison fell silent as Theo waved the waitress over and paid their bill. Then she followed him outside, into the night, and hand in hand they began walking down Second Avenue.

“So I’ve been thinking,” Theo said. “After you get back from visiting your mom in Italy, maybe we can go on a quick vacation. My father’s just completed construction on a new hotel in Antigua—it’s
amazing.
We could get the penthouse suite.”

“Sure,” Madison replied, not really paying him much mind.
Why had Damien been edgy and nervous?
she wondered.
Had he been that upset about something he’d seen in the club?

They walked past crowded restaurants and bars, crossing to the opposite side of the street.

Madison knew it was unwise to steer a conversation back in the direction of the murder investigation, but she couldn’t help herself. “Theo,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant, “how do you feel about Julian Simmons?”

“Okay, I guess. He’s always been cool to me.”

“Anything strange about him?”

“Like in what way?”

She hesitated for a few seconds. “I don’t know. Guys talk to each other in weird ways. Like…has Julian ever said anything about Damien that you might’ve overheard?”

“Never.” The reply was quick and assured.

Madison nodded slowly. “Okay. How about his personality? You both play on the lacrosse team. Haven’t you ever held a real conversation with him?”

“Not more than casually. Julian’s always talking about his career, about his music. Why?”

“Just wondering.” She cleared her throat and counted off five seconds. “Can you think of any reason why Julian would be upset with the school, or with one of our teachers?”
Or any reason why he might be experimenting with explosives?

Theo shrugged. “No. I mean, he pretty much got suspended back in February, but that’s all over with now.”

Madison stopped walking.

Theo stopped too. Then he looked at Madison and bit down on his upper lip. “Shit. I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

“Why not?”

“Just because it’s like…a secret. I’m the only other person who knows.”

“Who knows
what
?” She tugged at his sleeve. “Why was Julian suspended? And why do you know?”

A long, drawn-out sigh passed through Theo’s lips. “My big stupid mouth. I swear, I’m just going to have my lips glued shut one of these days.”

“Fine. But tell me about Julian first.”

“One day back in February, he and I were both in the locker room getting changed,” Theo began. “Our lockers are actually side by side. We were bullshitting and talking, and then Coach Wender came in and told us to hurry up. It was late, and we had just finished a long workout. Anyway, Coach was sweeping up the floor right beside us, and that was when Julian reached into his gym bag to pull out his jeans. And when he pulled out his jeans, a syringe popped out right along with them.”

“A syringe?” Madison’s voice hit a high note.

“Yeah,” Theo said. “Turns out Julian was taking steroids. Coach saw it and
freaked
out. It didn’t really surprise me because Julian’s arms—his muscles—are so huge. But Coach hauled Julian right up to Mother Margaret’s office, and I had to go along too as a witness.”

“And?” Madison pressed. “What happened after that?”

“Julian admitted to using steroids. Mother Margaret freaked out, called his parents. She and Coach kept asking Julian where he got the steroids, but he wouldn’t spill. Mother Margaret said he’d be suspended. Then she told me not to say anything to anyone, so I didn’t.”

“But I don’t remember Julian ever being suspended,” Madison said.

“That’s because he wasn’t—not literally, at least.” Theo chuckled. “You know how things are at St. Cecilia’s, Mads. Julian’s parents probably made a huge donation to the school and everything was forgotten.”

As she stood there, her stiff body being bumped by dozens of passersby, Madison realized she was sweating. Her heart was whacking in her chest. “So, Julian never said anything to you about it after that?”

“Two or three days later he did. He told me everything was cool and that he wasn’t in any trouble. And he wanted to make sure I’d stay quiet about it. Which I have.”

“You’ve managed to stay quiet about
that,
” Madison snapped. “But everything else I tell you—or anyone tells you—ends up in the papers. How did you manage not to blab that dirt on Julian? You have the biggest mouth!”

Theo shrugged again. “Look, I’m not saying what Julian did was right, but using steroids, unfortunately, isn’t really all that uncommon. Jocks shoot up all the time. Julian’s not the first, and he won’t be the last. Besides…me keeping this a secret is different from any of the other things I’ve blabbed about.”

“How so?”

Theo stared at her, and the look in his eyes was both apologetic and relaxed. “It’s a guy thing. Guys don’t go around squealing on each other.”

Madison gasped. “That’s
exactly
why men are always in trouble!” She folded her arms across her chest. “Tell me something—that day in Mother Margaret’s office, after the steroids had been found, did you see Mother Margaret actually write out a suspension report?”

Theo nodded. “Yeah. She wrote the whole thing out while she screamed at Julian. She even stood up and waved the paper in his face, trying to get him to spill the beans about where he’d gotten the steroids.” He looked at the flashing crosswalk. “Anyway, why the hell are we standing here? And why all the interest in Julian Simmons?”

Madison’s mind was racing a mile a minute. She saw several little pieces of the puzzle fall into place. More to herself than to Theo she said, “If it was ever made public that Julian Simmons was on steroids, his career would suffer…a
lot.
And even though his parents paid off the school to keep quiet about it, I’ll bet anything in the world that Mother Margaret refused to get rid of that suspension report. You know how meticulous and organized she is. She’s got stuff on file about all of us—stuff we probably wouldn’t even remember.”

“That sounds about right,” Theo commented. “But it would help if you told me what this is all about. You think Julian is somehow involved in Damien’s murder?”

Madison mentally slapped herself. “No, no,” she said. “I’m just…wondering about stuff, that’s all. I’m just saying that Julian knows Mother Margaret’s antics as well as we do; he knows that suspension report detailing the steroid use is—or was—probably in her files.”
And sometime in March, he broke into her office and stole the documents from the cabinets. And because he was experimenting with explosives, he left a trail of those chemicals everywhere.