Second Nature (7 page)

“How’s it going? What did
they know? What did they say? Did they ask about the blood?”

“No.” She shook her head.
“I don't know.”

“We need to start taking
this seriously, as a group. We need to solve this. We’re going to be framed for
this. They’re probably bringing us in two at a time and hoping our stories
don't match.”

“I see that now.” She
sniffled and nodded. “Where should we start?”

“Can you come to Rachel’s
with me?” I asked softly.

She narrowed her gaze and
nodded. “If we go at 6:00 no one will be there. All the staff except the cook
is retiring for the day after that.” Of course she knew that. “Or we could go
Monday when everyone is in school.”

I wasn't sure if she was
avoiding the conversation or not, but I asked again, “What did the police say?”

“You were right. They
found DNA at the scene that doesn't match Rachel’s. They said they wanted Sage
there to ask her about her brother. But then they started asking about other things,
like the bruising on her face the day after the party. She said they had a
photo of the bruise.” Her eyes filled with fear. “They asked me about our story
again; said they wanted another chance to see if I’d recalled anything else.
And they wanted me to look at some photos of the hipster, Skip. I said I didn't
recognize anyone. I don't think they invited us down there for any of that
though. I think Sage and I just became suspects with Ashton.”

Our day had started out
so calm. In fact, our month had been calm. Eerily calm. And now the first day
of school had come in like a lion. I suspected the lamb had been slaughtered
somewhere along the way, and we would find its remains when we were meant to.

“Did they ask you guys
for blood samples?”

She shook her head. “No.
Mr. Casey said that they would have to get warrants for that which would be
very hard since there’s no evidence linking us to the scene.”

I bit my lip, finally
admitting to myself that I had feared they would be considered suspects, and
with them, we would be dragged in too. “I think we all just got put on the
suspect list. If we are each other’s alibis, they must think it’s all of us.”

“Clearly, the killer
isn’t going to kill us. He just wants to frame us for the murder and ruin us.”
Her eyes watered, making the dark blue in them shine like the midnight sky. She
tucked her short chestnut hair behind her ears with trembling fingers. Her
logic was sound.

“What did Sierra’s dad
say?”

“He said he would keep us
safe and fight anything they tried.” She wrapped her arms around herself,
looking weak and frightened. It was alarming to see someone so strong and bold
be shaken. She looked the way she had when her mom died.

My eyes darted to the
doorway across the massive games room to where Vincent stood. He looked like a
storm was brewing inside him. His perfect features were stone-like, firm and
sharp. When his green eyes met mine I flinched. “Where’s Sage?” I asked.

Lindsey sniffled. “With
her mom and Tom. He’s leaving on a business trip.” She made finger quotations
for business trip. “He got pissed at the station and said that he wished Sage
had been taken instead of Ash. He said Ash would at least have stayed out of
this shitstorm.”

I closed my eyes,
sighing. “He’s such a douche.”

“Such.”

“He’s right about this
being a shitstorm though.” I opened my eyes and turned back to the party set
up. “We need to tell those two.” I looked back at Vincent. “Can you get rid of
the guys for a few minutes?”

He shook his head. “We
should all know what’s going on now.”

“No.” I stood my ground
on it. “We need to keep the story about the party as in check as we can. If we
drag them in, the killer might start framing them too.”

He looked like he might
argue, but he didn't. He pushed off of the wall and stalked across the room,
brushing past me as he walked out onto the deck. His voice was different the
moment he spoke—commanding but happy, “Let’s go take a walk down to the
beach.” I turned and watched as he pulled a joint from his back pocket. Jake
and Andrew followed him like he was the pied piper for underachievers.

Sierra started to walk
with them, but I called her, “Stay. We need your opinion on something very
serious.”

She and Rita both looked
curious and disappointed as they walked over to where we were.

“I could go for a toke,
so whatever this is—”

“Do you think you could
make it in prison?” I asked boldly for effect and to shut Rita up.

She snapped her mouth
shut as her gray eyes widened when she saw the state of Lindsey’s face.

“What?” Sierra stopped
walking. “What’s wrong?”

“We’re all suspects,”
Lindsey added. “The police found our blood at the scene. They don't know it’s
ours yet, but their reasons for bringing us in were pretty pathetic. The story
of the drunken forest expedition didn't go well. Sage and I were split up and
then questioned. She doesn't think she did very well. I know I didn't. I got
confused a lot. I tried saying we’d had some to drink, but then who drove home?
I got confused.”

It dawned on me that
Sierra
lied
like a pro, Rita was drugged, and I knew
too many facts and didn't get confused. Lindsey was the weakest link
technically. She was a terrible liar. Sage was drugged, but her brother was
missing.

It was possible the
police just wanted to see the two of them because they were hoping for more
answers. Maybe our guilty consciences made us link the DNA and the summons to
the police station. Maybe the two aspects weren’t connected at all.

Sierra and Rita both
looked apprehensively at Lindsey’s puffy face.

“Are you for real?”

“Yeah.” She gave a grave
look to Sierra. “They think we did it. Even your dad thinks so.”

Sierra swallowed hard.
“Fu—”

“Stop!” I scowled. “We
need to think about how to solve this so the police know it wasn't us but without
endangering ourselves with the killer.” A soft sigh slipped from my lips as I
processed. “Rachel got that dress from New York when she was shopping with you,
Rita. She never told us she was going to the city to see you. She kept that
detail of being friends with you a secret. How long were you friends, and why
didn't she tell us?”

Rita shrugged. “I don't
know. I never knew it was a secret. I thought we were put on playdates, if I’m
totally honest. Her mom and my mine organized it. I met her for brunch and then
we went to the show. It was supposed to be indie designers with a boho feel to
them.” She gave Lindsey a look. “Something you’d wear.”

Lindsey rolled her puffy
eyes.

“Anyway, it was really
shabby chic, and I didn't like it. I was polite and nice. The silver dress was
the only one that was something special in the entire collection. After the day
of shopping and that lame fashion show, her mom went through her bag of
clothes, taking away anything she didn't consider nice enough.” Rita wrinkled her
nose.

“She did this in front of
you?” Lindsey asked, looking bewildered.

“Yeah. They left after
that. Rachel seemed pissed. She texted me a few times after that, and we hung
out when her parents brought her to the city to see my parents. When I moved
here, she was up my ass from the moment I arrived. She was demanding, we did
all the things she wanted to do, and my mom made me hang with her.”

“Rachel wanted to keep
you to herself until she knew you would be cool.” Sierra rolled her eyes. “She
always did that with new friends. In case you were a freak. Then she could say
she didn't know you, even though secretly I had seen her hang with pretty dodgy
people.”

“Nice.” Rita was clearly
offended. “She really was a piece of work.”

“Anyway.” You could tell
Sierra didn't appreciate that comment. “The dress should have been an early
release for Rach. If she got it from the designer, and he wanted her to strut
it around at some point this summer, advertising for him, then there shouldn't
have been a second dress.”

“Right.” Rita nodded.

“And yet, you saw a girl
in the exact dress?”

I shrugged. “Identical.”

Rita cocked her head to
the side. “I don't get eidetic memories, but what if you just didn't see it
clear enough and it was a little different?”

A smile crept across
Sierra’s lips. “It doesn't work like that. Her brain is like a camera hooked up
to a computer. One thing triggers it and
bam
!
—
she
recalls all the details.”

“She’s never wrong,”
Lindsey added.

I blushed and lowered my
gaze. “Not yet.”

“So the designer made a
second dress. He gave it to the girl who tried to drug you and did drug me.
Which means the designer is in on this, or he is an asshole who sets up girls
to be wearing the same dress.”

“Risky move for a new
designer.” Sierra shook her head. “I suspect he was paid an enormous amount of
money to duplicate the dress, which he will say was stolen. There’s no way it
got worn to the same party coincidentally.”

“Who else knew you went
to the show?” Lindsey was starting to sound like her old self again.

“Our moms,” Rita added
defensively. She didn't love Lindsey and her snooping, that much
was
obvious.

I contemplated it all.
“Everything is leading us back to Rach. We need to get into her room.”

“Not tonight. I have the
party, and we have like an hour before people start showing up, and I’m not
even dressed yet,” Rita demanded.

“Fine. We’ll go Monday
when everyone else is in school or at work. I have a free period in the
morning, and Lain, you can skip.”

I wanted to argue with
Lindsey but there was no point. It was the second day of school, not exactly
crucial for attendance. I just hated starting off with bad behavior.

Koo-Koo-Ka-Choo, Mrs. Robinson

Sierra jumped into the
pool, cannonballing everyone but the screams were lost in the sound of the music
and shouting kids.

Vincent handed me the
flask he had brought. I lifted my Sprite and coconut water. “I’m good.”

“Want
to go to Rachel’s?” he whispered, not looking at me.
“Snoop around with me?”

“What about Linds?” I
still couldn't believe she was drunk. She never got drunk before this summer,
unless it involved her own pool and a good book, but now it was something she
was doing increasingly.

“She’s going home to bed.
We can drop her off and then head for Rachel’s.” He turned and gave me a look.
“What do you think we’ll find there?”

“Letters from the killer.
I think Rachel was getting them. I wonder if she was forced to buy that dress
and give it to Sierra? I wonder if she was told what to do? Like blackmail. I
also wonder what the killer had on her and where we all fit into the story.”

“That is an interesting
theory.” He stood and took another small drink from his flask. “Let me collect
my girlfriend, and we can go explore it. Don't tell anyone where we’re going.
You take the beach and meet me at the car.” He walked into the madness that
only we were not enjoying.

“Did he just say meet him
on the beach? He just wants to screw you.” Sage flopped into the seat next to
me. “He is working his way through our circle. And you’re next.”

If I didn't love the girl
like a sister I might have punched her in the throat. I was getting bloody
tired of her antics. “No, he wants Ashton to come home as badly as I do.”

Her bright eyes watered
as she leaned in and whispered, “He might be the killer, Lain. We have to think
about that. I mean, I don't think he is. But there’s a chance. He left and
nothing else has happened.” Her eyes were filled with fear. At first I thought
she was talking about Vincent, but then I realized she meant her brother.

“Sage, I used to think
Sierra was the dumb one. She’s always flipping her hair and saying weird things
that don't match the moment we are in. But this whole thing has shown me she’s
not.” The venom in my voice was heavily laid at her feet.

She blinked, too drunk to
understand what I was saying.

“Vincent and I are going
to find your brother and bring him home. And we’re going to prove he isn’t the
killer.” My blood was boiling. I never said mean things, ever. I hated the
memory of them. But I was tired of my friends not taking this seriously.

“Don't worry about my
brother. Worry that Linds is never going to forgive you for being with Vince
behind her back. Trust me, I know that feeling.” She hiccupped and got up just
as Rita slumped down into the spot Sage had left.

“You’re going to find
Ashton?” Her gray eyes were half open. “Did I hear that right?”

“If I can.”

Her plump lips lifted
into a lazy smile. “I think me and him would make a super hot couple.” She laid
a hand on my arm and nodded her head. “When you find him, be a good friend and
tell him that for me, kay?”

It was the last straw. I
hated Marguerite La Croix and maybe Sage too.

I jumped up and walked
through the party to the beach, pausing for a double take of Andrew with
Brooke, a senior, on his shoulders. She was wrestling in the air against Sierra
who was on Jake’s shoulders. Andrew laughed and mocked Jake who gave me a look.
It was the moment Brooke and Andrew needed to shove Sierra off Jake and dunk
them both.

Instead of pondering my
friends and their lack of care for our pending court dates, I turned and ran
for the beach. I rounded the house and yard, taking the side path up to the
driveway where Vincent was struggling with getting Lindsey into his car.

He gave me a look. “She’s
not excited about leaving. Can you leave your car here, and I’ll bring you back
to it when we’re done? I need you to sit in the back with her in case she gets
sick.”

“Yeah.” I climbed in and
sat in the back with Lindsey.

She turned and grinned.
“Lain, is the party pooper making you leave too?”

“No.”

She leaned in, staring
into my eyes. “What’s wrong?” She had no depth perception so she ended up
pressing our faces together and speaking straight into my mouth. “Are you mad?”

“No,” I lied. There was
no point.

Her eyes lowered to my
lips. She smiled wide and leaned in, pressing her glossy mouth against mine. It
tasted like cherry vanilla and greased half my face before I could shove her
back.

“I kissed a girl and I
liked it.” She laughed and fell back into the seat, thumping her head on the
door. Somehow that was even funnier.

Vincent started the car
with a heavy sigh. “Sorry. She’ll be asleep before we get home.”

“It’s fine. I love the
fact my first kiss was my drunk best friend.”

He chuckled and drove
off.

Lindsey was still
giggling away, lost in her own world.

She was the only one
speaking for the short drive to her house, except it was all nonsense. Her dad
was standing at the front door when we pulled up. He opened the door while she
was still mumbling and drooling on herself. He caught her as she fell forward,
throwing up all over the concrete.

Vincent sighed in relief.

“You, young lady, are in
some trouble.” Her dad dragged her through her own vomit and away from the car.
He gave Vince a look. “Thank you for bringing her home. Sorry if she made a
mess in the car.”

“It’s my fault. I should
have been watching her better. I’m sorry.”

“If you need me to come
back, I will.” I grimaced.

He nodded. “That might be
nice. I suspect she’s going to feel miserably foolish tomorrow. And you being
here might stop me from murdering her.” He said it before he thought. “I mean,
not murder.” His jaw dropped, but I laughed awkwardly.

“I know what you mean.”

“Vincent, I don't feel so
good. I love you, Vincent,” Lindsey mumbled and wiped her puke-covered lips
off.

“Goodnight.” Her dad
lifted her into his arms and carried her inside.

I stayed in the backseat
as Vince pulled away. I could sense the tension or anger pulsating off him. He
stopped the car at the gate. “This isn’t
Driving
Miss Daisy,
Lain. Get in the front seat.”

I didn't want to. He was
still Vincent Banks. Through it all, he was still a rakish scoundrel.

He turned, looking hurt.
“Really?”

I pressed my lips
together and shook my head as I reached for the door handle. He stomped on the
gas, making me fling back against the seat.

He didn't say anything,
not even when he stopped the car on the side of the road near Rachel’s. He
parked it and turned it off, climbing out, and closing the door softly.

I hated that I’d hurt his
feelings, even if I had sort of assumed he only had one.

“I’m sorry.” I climbed
out and closed the door.

“It’s fine.” He sighed.
“I have to expect my reputation has proceeded me.”

I grabbed his arm,
turning him. It was a weird moment for us both, but I shook my head. “It
hasn't. I’m just not good—with guys.” The words felt pathetic as they
slipped out.

His eyes softened. “You
can trust me, with anything.” His creepy leer crept across his lips. “Even your
virtue.” He winked and walked toward the woods.

“That doesn't make me
feel better.”

“It wasn't meant to,
ass.”

“Right.” I sighed and
hugged myself, noting the ocean air here felt colder as we walked into the
forest next to Rachel’s house. Images of the night of her death started to take
over.

It was something that
could happen when I was upset or I didn't control it. Seeing things is what
triggered the memory.

My feet stumbled forward,
my hands gripped harsher to my arms, and my stomach tightened, but I couldn’t
make my feet stop.

I did a beeline for the
place she had been. Yellow tape pieces were here and there, scattered but no
longer roping off the place in the woods. Tears welled in my eyes, maybe
begging me to stop looking.

I didn't need to look.
The images were there, perfectly crisp. Her body, twisted into a weird and
broken shape, the blood. “There was so much blood.”

Warmth surrounded me,
making me shiver from behind.

“Don't look, Lain.”
Vincent wrapped his arm around my shoulder and helped me toward the house.
“Nothing good can come from being here.”

We staggered as if we had
been drinking heavily too. Sobs and sniffles broke the silence of the forest.

When we got to the edge
of the yard, I paused again.

Lights and music filled
my ears and eyes.
Kids laughing and partying.
Rachel
screaming. I realized now that I had heard it. I was dancing. It was just
before and then again after the power went out.

“She was silent during
the dark moment, but as the lights and music came back on, I heard it. She made
noise. I thought it was her whimpering in the woods but the music was so loud I
wasn't sure.”

“When?”

“Before the music cut out
and just after. She made noises I couldn't really hear. I knew it was
her
. I assumed she was being a diva.” Tears silently slipped
down my cheeks.

“None of this is your
fault.”

“I know.” I paused. “And
yet, I think there are a thousand clues in my head that are sitting there
meaning nothing. But once we solve this, they will link together, each one tied
to the next with blood-red yarn, and make a pattern I should have seen.”

“If no one told us to be
scared, how could we have thought to be? We don't exactly live in a dangerous
place where worry and suspicion is part of our lives. We are technically the
easiest kids to trap in something like this. We expect the world to cater to
our every whim.”

“My biggest worry used to
be Ash.” I laughed bitterly and wiped my eyes and nose.

“You wanted him to know
how you felt?”

“No!” I gasped. “I
worried he would know, and I would be an idiot for even thinking it.”

He rolled his eyes.
“Let’s go before your cheeks light on fire.”

I lifted my cold hands to
them, realizing how hot they were. Even in the moonlight he could see how
embarrassed I was.

We crunched through the
grass, stepping on the crimson leaves that had fallen from the red maples
surrounding Rachel’s yard.

Vincent walked straight
to a side door downstairs that led to the basement where we never really went.
It was where the staff lived. He dropped to a knee and reached into a hedge in
the garden next to the door.

I cocked an eyebrow as he
pulled a rock out and undid it, lifting a key from the plastic.

“You snuck into Rachel’s
house?” I whispered at his back.

“Yes.” He didn't offer
anything else, and I didn't want to know the rest. Ashton and Rachel had been
dating since elementary school, same as Sage and Vincent. Whatever he had been
doing in Rachel’s house that he needed to know where the secret hide-a-key was
left,
was none of my business.

He slid the key in,
pulled the door, and jerked the key to the right with subtle shakes.

“Tricky lock?” I couldn't
help but ask.

“It isn’t what you
think.”

“I’m sure it’s worse.”

“It is.” He glanced back
over his shoulder. “Andrew’s mom wasn't the only one whose company I enjoyed.”

“Jesus.” My jaw was on
the ground, mixed in amongst the red leaves.

“I ended it at spring
break. Rachel was getting suspicious and acting weird. She tried
to—anyway. She tried to compete with her mom.” He shuddered and lifted a
finger to his lips as he turned the handle and opened the door.

I followed him into the
dark,
scared my soul was getting tainted by just being near
him. The smell of laundry soap and heavy sadness greeted us as we snuck into
the house.

“You realize that makes
them pedos, right? You were a child.”

“I was seventeen, and I
pursued them.” He led the way, weaving us through the dark house.

When we got to the main
floor via the staff staircase, I knew where we were. I turned and followed him
to the hallway on the right where Rachel’s massive suite was. It was over the
garage, with a large rooftop balcony overlooking the sea. The room was meant to
be the master suite, but she had demanded it be hers. She had to have the best
bedroom of us all.

Here we didn't have to
worry about noise so much. Her parents slept on the other side of the house. He
opened the door, pausing in the moonlight when he stepped in. “I have never
been in Rachel’s room before.”