When (15 page)

Faraday sat down, but kept the contents of the box hidden from us. “As you may have heard,” he began, “we found Payton Wyly’s body early this morning down by the Waliki
River about a half mile from where Tevon Tibbolt’s remains were discovered.” My mouth went dry. I knew that much, but it was still hard to hear. He then reached into the box and pulled
out an evidence bag. Inside was what looked like a torn-up image of a kitten with its paw raised. It’d been taped back together a bit haphazardly, but I recognized it immediately as the card
we’d sent to Payton. Donny scowled. My efforts to save Payton had just come back to haunt me.

“Know what this is?” Faraday asked me.

I didn’t even have to look at Donny to see if I should answer. He’d already told me at the restaurant the day before. “Yes,” I said. “It’s a card that Stubs
and I sent to Payton Wyly.”

Faraday’s brow shot up. He seemed surprised by my answer.

I knew I had to tell him why we’d sent it, so I began with the football game, pointing out that I’d seen both him and Wallace there, and while we were in the stands I’d seen
Payton’s deathdate. “It was coming so soon that I freaked out when I saw it,” I explained. “I left the stands, and Stubby came after me, so I told him what I’d seen.
He wanted to go back then and there and warn her, but with you guys in the bleachers and all the stuff that happened after I read for Mrs. Tibbolt, I didn’t think that was such a good
idea.”

Donny leaned forward. “I had also told my niece that she was not to verbalize any deathdate she saw to anyone.”

I nodded. “Right. But Stubs and I both felt really bad for Payton, and we decided that we had to try
something
to warn her, so we bought that card and wrote out a message to mail to
her. I know the message sounds weird, but we didn’t know what to say to get her to listen to us. We’d overheard her tell her friends that she was getting a new car for her birthday, and
we kind of assumed she was going to be in a car accident. Neither one of us thought it would end like…”

My voice trailed off. It was still hard for me to fathom that Payton had been murdered.

Faraday was eyeing me with intense scrutiny. I couldn’t tell if he believed me or not. “You didn’t think it would end like what, Maddie? Like this?” And he reached inside
his box and pulled out a photograph, slapping it down on the table in front of us.

I looked away. He’d used this tactic before, and I didn’t want to go through it again. “Jesus!” Donny hissed. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him flip the photo over.
“Really, Faraday? My niece is sixteen! Quit trying to shock a reaction out of her by showing her these crime scene photos!”

Faraday reached out and flipped the picture back over. I didn’t look away fast enough, and I caught a glimpse of Payton’s face, her eyes open, her cheeks swollen and bruised, a gash
on her forehead, and a large open wound at her neck. My eyes watered, and I squeezed them shut. I heard Donny’s chair scrape the floor. “Maddie,” he said. “We’re
leaving.”

“Oh, I’d advise against that,” Faraday said. I peeked out at him, and he was leaning back in his chair as if he double-dog dared Donny to leave. “At least not until you
hear me out, Fynn.”

Donny picked up the photo and tossed it at the agent. “You have thirty seconds to tell us what you want, Faraday, and then I’m walking Maddie out of here, and if you even think about
flashing another gruesome photo at her, I’ll be on the phone with the DOJ demanding they investigate your tactics before I’m even out of this building.”

Faraday picked up the photo from the floor where it’d fallen and put it back in the box, but he still seemed really angry, and I could understand, because what’d happened to Payton
looked worse than any nightmare I could imagine. But I wasn’t responsible. He
had
to know that.

Faraday inhaled deeply, and it seemed like he was trying to rein in his anger. He then looked me square in the eye and tapped the evidence bag with the card and said, “Here’s the
thing, Madelyn. We didn’t find this in Payton Wyly’s trash.” My brow furrowed. “We found it in Arnold Schroder’s trash can.”

My jaw dropped. That made no sense! “See,” Faraday continued, “Agent Wallace and I went over to reconfirm you alibi with Schroder, to check if maybe he wanted to change his
story. Your buddy stuck to the facts, but he was so nervous and jumpy that we felt he was hiding something. So, later that night we swung by again and noticed that he’d set out the trash. You
don’t need a warrant to go through someone’s trash, did you know that? We picked up yours, too, by the way. You guys need to recycle more.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. Ma hid her empties in the trash because she didn’t want our neighbors seeing how many liquor bottles were in the recycle bin.

“So Schroder never mailed the card,” Donny said, the vein at his temple noticeably throbbing. I knew he was furious at the agent for that last comment. “Is that a crime now,
Agent Faraday?”

Faraday seemed to ignore him and went back to fishing around inside his box. I felt myself bracing for what might come next. He retrieved a sheet of paper and set it on the table. I was so tense
and on edge that I immediately turned away. “Recognize him?” he asked.

I didn’t look until I felt Donny’s hand on my arm, and then I focused on the piece of paper now on the table. It was an artist’s sketch of a man’s face, and even though
it was a pretty rough sketch, the first person I thought of when I looked at it was Stubby.

My pounding heart was like a wrecking ball in my chest. I knew that Faraday could tell I saw the similarity, but I smelled a trap, so I shook my head. “No,” I said, but it came out
in a whisper.

“Really?” Faraday said, all shock and awe. “You don’t recognize your own best friend, Maddie?”

Donny was looking from me to Faraday. He smelled a trap, too. “You have her answer. What’s your point?”

Faraday pulled out another document. It looked like a handwritten letter. Then he pulled out another and another and another. Donny lifted up the papers and began to read, but I was focused on
Faraday, who in turn hadn’t taken his eyes off me. “Those are witness statements,” he said. “From Payton’s fellow cheerleaders. They all give pretty much the same
story. They say that last Monday afternoon right after cheerleading practice, Payton was approached by the boy in that sketch and he had a pretty amazing story to tell her. He claimed that he was
psychic, that he had visions that often came true, and that he’d seen Payton at a football game and was overcome by a vision of her being killed on her birthday. He didn’t give her his
name, but he warned her not to drive her new car, which he said he’d also seen her getting for her birthday.”

I felt my blood turn to ice. I knew instantly what Stubby had done. He’d taken the card after leaving me at Starbucks, and he’d had second thoughts about sending it, knowing it was
likely Payton would think it was a joke. He’d probably decided then and there to ignore all my warnings and headed straight to Jupiter High only a few blocks away.

And after I’d told him that Payton had been murdered and the feds had come back to question him about my alibi, he’d panicked by tearing up the card and throwing it out in the trash
to get rid of the evidence.

With a sudden horror I knew exactly where the feds were going with this. They thought Stubs had murdered Payton. And since her crime scene photo had resembled Tevon’s, it wasn’t a
leap to think they’d try to pin his death on him, too.

While I was putting all of that together, Faraday reached into his box again and pulled out yet another statement. “Here’s a witness statement from Payton’s coach, who told us
that a boy resembling this sketch approached her and claimed to be from the Poplar High newspaper. He was very interested in the new star on the team, Payton Wyly. This was before the football
game, Maddie, when you supposedly saw Payton’s deathdate. And we checked with your school’s newspaper—Arnold doesn’t contribute to it, and he never has.”

“He didn’t do it!” I blurted out, panic-stricken about where this was heading.

Donny’s hand clamped down on my arm, but it was too late.

“Didn’t do what?” Faraday asked, leaning forward. “Or maybe I should ask,
who
didn’t do what?”

I looked at Donny, practically pleading with him to let me talk, to let me explain it to Faraday, but the warning in my uncle’s eyes was clear. I wasn’t to say another word until he
gave the okay. “What does any of this have to do with my niece?” Donny demanded.

Faraday pulled out a picture of Stubby. It was his sophomore yearbook photo. The agent held it up next to the artist’s sketch. “See a resemblance?” he asked.

Donny kept his eyes on Faraday. “Again, what does this have to do with Maddie?”

Faraday set the articles down. “It has everything to do with her, counselor. The boy in the sketch is her best friend—this Stubby character. We’ve got him here now, and he says
it was all Madelyn’s idea. He says that she came up with a plan to kidnap and kill Tevon Tibbolt, convinced him to do the dirty work, and they both enjoyed it so much that they went looking
for another victim: Payton Wyly.”

My mouth fell open and a noise came out from deep inside me, one that was unbidden and primal. Donny’s hand squeezed my arm again, and I barely managed to stop and get hold of myself.

“Cut the crap, Faraday,” Donny snapped. “Schroder said no such thing! If he had, you would’ve arrested Maddie by now, but you’ve got nothing but a torn-up birthday
card, a crude sketch, and some witness statements that I will tear holes through in court. You have no proof that the guy in the sketch is Schroder, and no proof that he actually harmed Payton
Wyly!”

Faraday seemed unfazed by Donny’s outburst. He rubbed his chin before leaning forward even more, his large frame hanging over most of the table. “You know what else I find
interesting?” His question was aimed directly at me. I found myself shaking my head, and I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I didn’t want to hear it, whatever it was, because it was
all a lie. “Your best friend’s statement is your only alibi for the day Tevon Tibbolt was kidnapped and murdered. We’ve been looking at the timetable, Madelyn. It seems Tevon may
have been abducted later in the day on the twenty-ninth than we thought. We think he was taken anywhere between three and nine
P.M.
So, I gotta ask you: who’s covering
for whom?”

An involuntary squeak bubbled up from my throat, and Donny’s hand clamped down on my wrist again. “We’re going,” he said, half lifting me out of my chair.

But Faraday wasn’t done with us quite yet. Quick as a flash, he took out a folded piece of paper from inside his coat pocket and snapped it open right in front of Donny.

Donny paused when he saw the paper—it looked official. Snatching it out of Faraday’s hand, he started to read it.

“We’ve served out a search warrant,” Faraday said casually, and from the box came something else that froze me in place and turned my cold blood to ice. “This we found
hidden in Maddie’s nightstand,” he said, holding up my deathdate notebook and wiggling it back and forth. “It makes for really interesting reading, if you like names and dates. So
many names and dates, Madelyn.”

My breath started to come in short little pants, and the world began to spin.

“Here’s a name and a date that’s pretty interesting,” Faraday said, thumbing to one of the last pages. “Tevon Tibbolt, ten twenty-nine, two thousand
fourteen.”

Donny’s face drained of color, and he looked at me with a mixture of shock and horror. I’d never told him I kept the notebook. I’d never told anybody. Well, except Stubby.

Faraday flipped the page. “And here, in one of the last entries, we have the name Payton Wyly. Next to that is the date eleven twelve, twenty fourteen.”

For a long moment nobody spoke. Faraday continued to thumb through my notebook while Donny clenched and unclenched his jaw. Finally, he said, “Is my niece under arrest?”

My knees threatened to give out from underneath me, but Donny held my arm firmly, supporting me. Faraday took his time answering, but finally he said, “Not yet, Fynn. But soon.”
Switching his focus back to me he added, “Don’t leave town, Madelyn.”

Donny moved me toward the door, but Faraday stuck his leg out, blocking us. “The warrant extends to her phone,” he said, his voice hard as steel.

I looked at Donny, who eyed the search warrant in his hand and nodded for me to comply. With trembling fingers I removed my phone from my pocket and set it gently on the table. I tried to think
what texts might be on the phone that could incriminate me, but my mind was a jumble of panicked thoughts, and I couldn’t remember.

We exited the room, and Donny held on to me the whole way. “Look straight ahead,” he whispered as he moved us steadily down the hallway. As we were nearing the exit, though, from
around a corner came Agent Wallace and another agent, and between them was Stubby, his arms bound behind him.

“Say nothing!” Donny whispered harshly into my ear.

I was so stunned to see Stubs handcuffed and being escorted by two agents that I was at a loss for words anyway. But Stubby lifted his chin when he saw me. His looked terrified.
“Maddie!” he cried out. “Tell them! Tell them it wasn’t me!”

A sob formed in my throat, and as we passed each other I tried to reach out to him, but Wallace glared and blocked me with his body while Donny pulled on my arm to keep me away, but then he
leaned over and said to Stubby, “Do you want my help?” Stubby nodded desperately, and Donny said, “Don’t say a word until I get back, Arnold; do you understand?” And
then to Wallace he said, “Mr. Schroder is now represented by counsel. You cannot interview him until I get back; got that, Wallace?”

Wallace made a face like Donny could suck it, which prompted Donny to shout back at Stubby as the three moved past us, “Don’t say a word, Arnold!
Nothing
, you hear
me?”

I craned my neck to look back at Stubby. He was openly weeping, and he was now slumped between the two agents, who were holding him up and moving him along while Stubby’s feet practically
dragged on the ground.