Adventures in Funeral Crashing (8 page)

“What happened?” I asked, genuinely
curious.

“Well, Sandy was just telling me that this
guy was totally into Melissa. He was an art major and making all
this cool stuff for her. It was his way of doing the whole romantic
thing. Anyway, she so wasn’t into him – I mean she wouldn’t even
kiss him, but for some reason she kept going out on dates with
him.”

“She wouldn’t kiss him?” I asked.

Courtney nodded, “No. And, don’t get me
wrong, if she doesn’t like him she doesn’t have to kiss him, but
it’s just a kiss, you know? If the guy takes you out a few times,
kiss him, maybe you’ll be into him after all. I mean, she kept
dating him and it’s not like it’s anything big. It’s a kiss.”

“That’s weird,” I said.

“Yeah. It broke them up. I mean, he was so
into her, but come on, he’s a guy. Give him a kiss at least, if you
want to keep him around. Anyway, she was such a straight edge. So
weird she OD’d,” Courtney said. “So, you think this is the same
guy? I mean, it’s not his fault she did drugs or anything. They
were broken up when she died by like at least a couple weeks.”

I nodded, “Probably not.”

Courtney nodded and then seemed to want me to
continue talking about Troy. I didn’t know what else to say, so I
said, “Okay, I’m going to go restack DVDs.”

I grabbed the pile of returned DVDs from the
inbox and walked away from Courtney, thinking about what she’d said
about Melissa. If the guy Courtney had mentioned was Troy, would
Troy have killed Melissa just because he could never have her? Troy
definitely needed to be investigated.

Ironically enough, as I was resolving to
continue on with the case with or without Ethan, Vanessa Martin was
dying.

I didn’t know
about Vanessa Martin until late Sunday night. She had been dead
over twenty four hours before I even learned about her death.

Sunday, I had spent my day reading and doing
homework. It has to get done sometime, even between work, guys, and
murder mysteries. I did make a quick trip to Wired to get a
comforting peanut butter banana milkshake (heaven on earth!), but
otherwise I stayed in. I ignored all things murder and buried
myself in the second
Twilight
book,
New Moon
. I’m a
Team Jacob fan, so it was my favorite book, since Jacob got a lot
of Bella/Jacob time in that one. Homework took a back seat to
reading, but I got it done too.

I hadn’t turned on a television, read the
paper, or checked my Facebook all day, when my cell phone started
ringing. I thought it was Anne from work, calling me in for the
Sunday night shift, but I was surprised to see the name Ethan
Ripley pop up on the caller ID instead. We had exchanged numbers
days ago on that Thursday night when he came to the video store. I
had never really thought he’d need to call me for any reason. I
thought it was one of those – I’ll delete ya’ later phone number
exchanges. I guess not. Cool.

So, here was Ethan, calling me on a Sunday
night at 6:23 pm. Should I answer? I was supposed to be mad at him,
right? Could I stay angry at the most popular guy in school
forever? Even when he was calling my cell phone? What if he was
calling to apologize? Or ask me out? I answered on the second
ring.

“Hello?” I asked, like I didn’t know who it
was.

“Kait?” Ethan asked, like he didn’t know it
was me even though he was the one calling me. Figures.

“What’s up Ethan?” I asked, trying to sound
light and carefree when all I really wanted to know is why he was
calling me in the first place.

Ethan sounded almost ghostly on the phone
line, “Kait, Vanessa Martin was found dead in her bedroom from an
overdose last night. There’s been another murder.”

“I’ll be over in twenty minutes,” I said and
hung up the phone, already getting my things.

I had to get to Ethan’s house. I didn’t even
remember driving there, I was in such a daze. Poor Vanessa Martin.
I felt guilty. If only we could have done something more to prevent
her death. If only Detective Dixon had listened to Ethan and me!
Her death could have been prevented! We had printed her email out
and everything for him! Even though she hadn’t talked about Troy,
her message had been urgent, so it could have been a clue too. But,
no, Detective Dixon had barely even looked at it! We could have
saved her. If only.

And, what had Vanessa needed to talk to Liz
about? Had she been murdered for that information? Ethan was
supposed to have emailed her to ask, but I had no idea if he’d
gotten around to it after our disastrous efforts at the police
station on Saturday. Now, it was too late to find out what Vanessa
knew and why she had felt like it was such an urgent matter.

I pulled up to Ethan’s house and realized
that I had invited myself over to his house, without really asking.
I only realized this because his house was ablaze with light. It
looked like the whole family was home. Did Ethan want me to come in
and meet his family? I wasn’t so sure. I also felt really, really
nervous all of a sudden. I was afraid to meet them.

I sat in my car, pulled my cell phone out of
my purse, and dialed. Ethan answered on the first ring, “Hey.”

“I’m sitting outside your house,” I said,
glancing at his house, toward where I thought his window might be.
A dim glow emanated from it.

“Come on up. I’ll be right down to meet you,”
I could hear the springs from his bed moving, like he was getting
up to head downstairs.

“Your family…” I started.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry. They don’t know what
we’re doing. I’ll just say you’re a friend. I have friends over all
the time,” Ethan said, hanging up.

He had friends over all the time, huh? How
many girls was he dating? Was I ready to meet his family? I mean,
we were just friends. Were we even that? Wait. Had Ethan Ripley
just called me his friend? I got out of the car and walked up to
the house, curious to find out the status of our relationship.

“Hey,” Ethan said, opening the door, just as
I was about to ring the doorbell.

His hair was wet, like he had just gotten out
of the shower. It was more curly than wavy when it was glistening
with water. Was it possible for him to get more hot? I think not. I
walked past him into the entryway. I could hear the murmurs of a
little girl talking in the kitchen and a television on in the
family room, down the way. I glanced at Ethan, unsure how to
proceed. Did his parents let him just bring girls up to his room on
Sunday nights? Did I have to meet them first?

“I already told them I had a friend stopping
by. They’ll leave us alone,” Ethan shrugged, guessing my
question.

I walked in and he shut the door behind me,
before he started heading up the stairs to his room. I hoped his
parents didn’t think what I think they were thinking. I wanted to
create a good impression, you know, just in case. Then again, being
that none of them saw me walk in, maybe they just thought I was a
guy. Maybe. Was it wrong to sort of want to meet his parents now?
Wait a second. Or, was Ethan embarrassed of me? Was that a
possibility? I shook my head to clear it. We were investigating a
girl’s death. Priorities.

As we walked up toward Ethan’s room it
occurred to me that there was one thing I wanted to do before we
went to his room to discuss strategy. It was something we hadn’t
done the last time I was there, “Can I see your sister’s
bedroom?”

Ethan looked at me for a long moment before
he nodded and walked to the other end of the hallway.

Liz’s room was decorated with pictures of
Paws and other animals. She also had a bookshelf in her room, but
although hers had a few books, there were a ton of animal figurines
that she must have collected since she was a kid.

Ethan seemed uncomfortable, “It feels really
weird to be in here now.”

“I know,” I nodded as I looked around. It
took awhile for my dad and me to even box up my mother’s things.
Who knew how long it would take for Ethan and his parents to pack
up a sister and daughter.

We were quiet as we looked around the room.
Ethan just glanced, but I moved forward and into the room, to take
a closer look. I wasn’t thrilled about rummaging through a dead
girl’s things, but it had to be done. Maybe there was some kind of
clue in here. Maybe she had noticed something weird about Troy. Or
maybe she had left some kind of clue about her murderer. Or, if the
police were really right, maybe she had a stash of heroin in her
underwear drawer.

I actually wasn’t sure what I was looking for
in Liz’s room. I just wanted to be thorough. I was hoping a clue
would jump out at me. Liz was the one girl we actually had access
to – her life was an open book because of Ethan. We could actually
go into her room and not be breaking and entering. The other girls
– Olivia and Melissa and now Vanessa, were not, except for what was
on the internet. I couldn’t imagine going up to their mothers or
siblings or even friends, as strangers, interrogating them and
asking about their deaths. I had already thought about it and
dismissed it. They wouldn’t talk to Ethan or me about it on their
own and it could take eons for us to somehow ingratiate ourselves
into their lives. Girls kept dying. Wasting time was not an option.
Liz was our best lead for clues. So, we needed to be thorough with
Liz.

“Did she keep a diary or anything?” I asked
as I opened a drawer full of pens, erasers, pencils, paper clips,
staples and all the usual school supplies.

I kept a diary sometimes. It was really
sporadic and totally eighth grade, but when I really needed to get
something out, I used it. It was currently hiding underneath my
mattress where I knew my dad would never look. I know I wasn’t the
only girl with one either. If I remembered correctly, Ariel had a
diary too – with Princess Jasmine on it from
Aladdin
– and
kept it hidden in a shoebox in her closet. Ariel had made me privy
to that secret when we used to be best friends. What I wouldn’t
give to read up on her secrets now. Not that I’d use them against
her or anything. I don’t think.

Ethan was still standing at the doorway
watching me look around. He seemed almost afraid to enter the
room.

He shrugged, “When we were kids I think she
had one, but I have no idea if Liz has a diary now. She wouldn’t
have shown it to me, that’s for sure.”

“But I thought you guys were close?” I asked,
although even if I had a brother I really, really liked I wouldn’t
have shown him my diary either.

“Yeah, most of the time,” Ethan nodded.

“Most of the time?” I opened another drawer.
It was full of notebooks and papers.

“Well, I mean she was my sister. She could be
a real pain sometimes,” Ethan said. “She took forever in the
bathroom and she could be so self righteous about her causes. I
mean, she was probably right and all, but sometimes it drove me
nuts how I did everything wrong.”

“That makes sense,” I said as I picked
through the papers in the drawer, but it was mostly schoolwork,
junk mail for credit cards, and nothing of interest. I picked up
her mattress. Nothing there. I turned toward her dresser. That
would be the next place I’d probably hide something, as typical as
that is. I riffled through the drawers as Ethan watched me quietly.
And, bingo! There it was, underneath a stack of tank tops. I had
found Liz’s diary.

Ethan’s room was only lit by the dim glow of
his desk lamp. The towel he must have just used was damp and draped
across the back of his desk chair. His guitar was lying on his bed.
I wished I could hear him play sometime. Maybe I’d ask, one
day.

I had Liz’s diary in my hands. It was more
than half way full, so it was going to take me a little while to
read. Ethan didn’t want to read it. I understood. I’d be reading
her most private, innermost thoughts once I read it and for Ethan
that would be exceedingly painful right now. I was going to go
through it at home and let him know if I found anything relevant.
I’ll admit, I was dying to read it. Right now, though, we had to
decide what to do about Vanessa Martin.

Ethan walked over to his computer and sat
down at his desk, motioning me to sit down on his bed, “My mom told
me about Vanessa. She had gotten a call from a neighbor who had
gotten a call from a friend. Vanessa’s family didn’t really want it
to get out about the ODing on heroin. I can understand that. People
look at you differently if they think you missed out on the fact
that your kid is doing drugs. I know how that goes.”

“So, she died of a heroin overdose too?” I
asked as Ethan logged into his Facebook account.

“That’s what my mom heard and that they found
Vanessa in her bedroom in her parent’s house, but there’s more. I
think Vanessa emailed me probably within an hour or two of her
death, getting back to me about that email I sent her about Liz,”
Ethan pulled up his Facebook inbox and sure enough there was an
email from Vanessa sent Saturday at 5:12 pm.

He clicked on the link and we sat there in
silence as I read the last email Vanessa Martin had probably ever
sent:

Ethan –

Yes, I was friends with Liz. We had a
Biology class together. I’m really sorry about her. That email was
only really meant for her. I just wanted to talk to her about the
guy she was dating. Forget about it. It’s not important now.

-Vanessa

“It’s not important because Liz is dead
anyway?” I thought out loud.

“Doesn’t sound like someone who ODed on
heroin an hour or two later, does it?” Ethan was still staring at
the words in front of them.

“Do you think she’s talking about Troy
Matthews?” I asked.

“Definitely,” Ethan nodded.

“Who is she friends with?” I asked looking
more closely at Vanessa’s profile.