Keaton School 01: Escape Theory (31 page)

BOOK: Keaton School 01: Escape Theory
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“We need to talk. When Eric gets back, go get ice.” Devon ducked onto the adjacent balcony when she heard the key card beep in Maya’s door. She could hear the scratch of the curtain rod as Maya closed the curtains.

Cleo was waiting for her behind the buzzing ice machine. “She coming?”

“I hope so,” Devon said. “Otherwise I’m a totally ineffective stalker.”

“Just use your skills, Counselor,” Cleo shoved an ice bucket in Devon’s arms. “I’ll use mine.” With a wave of her dress Cleo hurried toward the ocean. The echo of a door closing brought Devon to attention. She put her ice bucket under the chute and pressed the button for ice. Cubes dropped into the plastic bucket as Maya appeared next to her, arms folded across her chest.

“What are you doing here?” Maya demanded again.

“What are
you
doing with Eric? Did you really get over Hutch that quickly?” Her eyes couldn’t help but wander to Maya’s belly. The slightest bump protruded from her fitted dress. It still wasn’t something anyone would notice unless they were looking for it specifically. Soon enough that would change.

Maya leaned against the wall, out of sight from the courtyard. She pursed her lips and looked into the empty ice bucket in her hands.

“You can’t tell anyone, okay?” she muttered. “I was never
with
Hutch. He was just trying to help me figure out what to do. The baby is Eric’s. We’ve been seeing each other since June. I really love him and he loves me, but our families will disown us if they found out we were together.”

Devon’s head swam dizzily. She had no idea what she was feeling. “I don’t get it. Why would you lie to me about Hutch? You made me think it was his baby.”

“I didn’t make you think anything. You assumed, and I let you. It was safer. If they find out about Eric and I … he’s 21 and I’m 17. He could be in real trouble. That’s why he wanted me to get rid of it. We were fighting about it and Hutch was the only person who knew. He got the test for me so I could be sure. He was talking to Eric about giving me the space to make my own decision.”

Devon nodded.
That sounds like Hutch. The Hutch I knew. The Hutch I trusted. And who, as it turns out, actually was the real Hutch
.

“What are you thinking?” Maya asked.

“That your decision affects Eric, too.”

“I know. That’s why we were fighting. But, we’re okay now. That’s why he brought us here this weekend, to be together, alone, before we broke the news to our families. We’re going to have this baby together.”

Devon slid along the wall down to the floor. Her hand dipped into the bucket of ice and the cold raised the hair along her arms. “That’s brave,” she said. “But what are you gonna do about the age thing?”

“My birthday is in a month. We just need to last until then. Then we’ll tell them. It’s good news, Devon. You don’t need to look so sickened by the whole thing. Eric really loves me. We can make this work.” Maya tugged her shirt lower. “Not that I have to tell you any of this.”

“You’re right. I can’t tell you what to do. It seems like you’ve got a plan, so that’s good.” She stood. “But … does this have anything to do with why Hutch died?”

“What are you saying? Hutch killed himself. That’s his business. My baby had nothing to do with that.”

“Sure, but what about Eric? Was he angry at Hutch for getting into
your
business?”

Maya’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Be careful, Devon. Be very careful about where you throw your accusations. Eric’s family will sue anyone who slanders their name.”

“Fine. Just tell me that he didn’t visit Hutch at school that night. Just tell me that he was with you and I won’t say anything.” Devon’s question hung between them. The ice machine shifted and rumbled again before Maya spoke.

“He said he had to take care of something in the city,” Maya said quietly. “And I believe what he said. He was in the city.” She turned and hurried back down the hall, leaving Devon alone with her bucket of ice.

*
Keaton Companion
Rule #2c: Dangerous Activities: If a Keaton student feels that he or she knows someone, or he or she is a danger to themselves or others, he or she is encouraged to utilize a one-time emergency assistance to properly deal with the situation. Fearing punishment or consequences when someone’s health is at risk should not be an excuse.

CHAPTER 18

Sunday, October 14

Cleo had Dave deliver a bottle of champagne to their room before the kitchen closed for the night. “Because it’s a happy buzz,” she said. By 2
A.M.
Cleo was lounging in the empty bathtub, ensconced in red couch cushions from the couch, drinking champagne out of the bottle. Devon sat on the bathroom counter dangling her feet off the side. She decided to pass on the buzz, happy or not. One of them had to keep her head straight.

“So, Bodhi, Raven, Eric and Reed Hutchins all had access to the car that drove up the backside of the Keaton hill to meet Hutch that night?” Cleo set her bottle of champagne on the floor next to the tub.

“Yeah, but Bodhi doesn’t drink beer.”

“But, he could have access to the Oxy,” Cleo pointed out.

“True.”

“Isn’t it not really about access, though? I mean, we’re talking
murder here, right?” Cleo tapped a finger against the neck of the champagne bottle.

Murder
was a word Devon kept trying to avoid. It sounded so deliberate. But Cleo was right. That’s what they were talking. In one version, Hutch took the Oxy just to get high and accidentally overdosed, or he took it deliberately to end his life. In another version, someone purposely slipped him a lethal amount.

“If it’s murder then we’ve got to figure out who had enough of a reason to want Hutch gone. Raven and Bodhi and Reed might have had access, but Eric and maybe Maya are the only ones with a real motive. Murder is usually an emotional thing. And Eric seemed to have the most to lose if Hutch squealed about Maya’s pregnancy.”

“So we gotta talk to Eric then,” Cleo said.

Devon’s lips flattened. “That’s the champagne talking. Like he would even give us the time of day. Besides, say it’s true. Hutch was going to rat out Eric and Maya’s relationship. We’re still talking about Eric killing his own little brother. That’s hard to imagine.

“Hasn’t counseling taught you anything?” Cleo snorted. “People are crazy. Especially rich people, I’m telling you.”

“I don’t know. Still doesn’t add up. I think I need Bodhi and Raven’s help.”

“I thought you weren’t sure you could trust them,” Cleo said between sips of champagne.

“Hutch trusted them. They’re living with Reed. I’m not sure that doubting them is accomplishing anything. Besides, they’re the only ones who actually believed in me when all this happened, from the beginning.”

Cleo closed her eyes and leaned back in the pillows. “All right, but isn’t this how you set yourself up to ultimately be betrayed by them? How many murder mysteries have you seen?”

“That’s why you’re coming with me. If you can’t spot a liar, then we’re really screwed.”

Cleo’s eyes popped open. She giggled and offered the bottle to Devon, who shrugged and took a sip. Bubbles oozed out the top.
It burned in her throat and the back of her nose. She winced and handed the bottle back.

“Did you look on the desk out there? I got you something.” Cleo said, that smug smile returning.

“What?” Devon padded her bare feet out of the cool tile bathroom floor to the living room. Her Mont Blanc pen was lying in the middle of the polished wood desk. “How did you get this?” she yelled toward the bathroom.

“When you were with Maya I thought I’d say hi to Grant. See if he wanted to combine parties or anything.”

“What’d he say?” Devon hurried back to the tub.

“I left you out of it. He has no idea you’re here. You’re welcome, by the way. Seems like Eric is paying for Grant and Raj to hang out for the weekend, drink all they want and watch football.”

“Why would Eric do that? Oh.…” She looked at the pen in her hand. “Grant stole my notes for Eric.”

“Eric’s super paranoid about your counseling sessions. And apparently Grant can’t hold his liquor either. Once that kid started talking there was no stopping him.”

“You got him to give you the pen back?” Devon asked. Cleo tilted her head at Devon. “Right, you took it. Sorry, forgot who I was speaking to.”

“Don’t do it again,” Cleo playfully slapped Devon’s arm. “But, it was the least I could do. You put yourself out there for me, for Matt and Isla and Hutch. Seemed like someone needed to return the favor.”

“Thanks,” Devon said. She twirled the silver pen between her fingers. “I didn’t exactly solve your kleptomania though, did I?”

“Oh no, you were totally right. Of course it’s for attention, but not like I was going to admit that to you. Come on, let’s get some sleep. We’ll get Nikolai to take us back to the hill tomorrow morning.”

T
HE NEXT MORNING
, D
EVON
found the black Rover parked in the driveway in front of Reed’s guest house, but no one answered the door when she knocked.

“They should have a sign that says ‘Gone Surfing,’ or ‘Surfs Up,’ ” a hungover Cleo croaked behind her Jackie O sunglasses from the backseat of the town car. These were the first words she’d spoken since they’d gotten in the car an hour ago. “Or maybe, ‘Life’s a Beach and then you Die.’ ”

The security camera above the front door gave Devon an idea. “Let’s try the main house.” The car wound higher up the driveway. The guest house was bigger and more beautiful than her own house, it was hard to imagine something more. But when it swept into view with its three stories and multiple chimneys, the pointed roof and double wraparound balconies … all she could think was that it was a palace. A
true
palace. She could see a few of the windows had blue and amber stained glass designs. A massive redwood tree grew through the middle of the front porch; Devon couldn’t be sure if the tree or the house was in that spot first.

“Merde,”
Cleo whispered as the car stopped at the front door. Devon hopped out. Cleo jabbed a finger at a security camera above the door. It swiveled toward them. Someone was home, and someone was watching.

Devon’s knees felt shaky. Well. No point in trying to hide anymore. She forced herself to march up the front walk.

Bodhi opened the door before Devon had a chance to knock. “We were wondering if we’d been ditched or what.”

“I need to talk to you.” Devon said.


We
need to talk to you,” Cleo chimed in, appearing behind them. Devon’s shoulders sagged. Wouldn’t Cleo be happier back at the Four Seasons? “What? You really think I’m going to walk away from this? All the action’s about to go down.”

“What’s going on?” Bodhi asked.

“Is Raven around?” Devon peered into the room behind Bodhi. She could see that the hallway led to a massive living room with one wall of windows facing the vineyard.

“Come on in. She’s surfing. Be back soon.” He eyed Cleo up and down. “Bodhi,” he said, extending a hand.

“Cleo,” she replied, shaking it. “Nice dreads, Bodhi.”

“You should probably get Reed, too,” Devon mumbled.

“Yeah, yeah. Nice to see you, too, Devon.” Bodhi shook his head. He kicked off his checkered Vans at the bottom of the carpeted stairs and disappeared upstairs.

Cleo made herself right at home, lounging on an enormous couch with faded green and blue plaid cushions. “Ow, jeez. This thing is probably older than I am.” Devon wasn’t paying attention though. She spied an end table with framed photos. A young Hutch, smiling on the beach next to a large surfboard. Reed and Athena in an old black and white photo no bigger than a playing card. Reed, standing on a redwood tree stump wider than his outstretched arm. But where was the rest of the family? Eric? Hutch and Eric’s dad, Bill?

“Devon? I thought that was you down at the guest house,” Reed called from upstairs. With Bodhi at one arm and his wrinkled hand on the banister, Reed made his way down slowly. “And who is this young woman?”

“Cleo Lambert, Mr. Hutchins,” Cleo said. She stood up and shook Reed’s hand.

“Well, Cleo. Welcome. If you’re with Devon we’re happy to have you.” Reed took a seat in a thick leather chair and draped a blanket over his lap. “So. Shall we proceed with or without Raven?”

Bodhi looked to the door one more time and at Devon, his eyebrows narrowing slightly. “She’ll get here when she gets here,” Bodhi said. He avoided eye contact with Devon and took a seat in a chair farthest from her. He seemed to be mad. Maybe her exit on Friday hadn’t gone over as smoothly as she had hoped. If Eric was guilty, she would need Bodhi and Raven on her side to help convince Reed of his grandson’s wrongdoings. If it wasn’t Eric, but in fact Raven and Bodhi who were keeping darker secrets than she knew, well … then Devon would really be lost.

“I had to tell you this in person because it’s about Eric.” Devon began slowly. “He and Maya Dover are seeing each other. She’s pregnant with his child. I think Eric saw Hutch that night. I think
Eric went to the Palace to talk to Hutch about the pregnancy. And I think Eric may have given Hutch the Oxy that killed him.”

She’d expected to feel much worse. She’d been dreading saying her theory out loud. But all she felt was an enormous wave of relief. Even if she was wrong, even if people ended up hating her for it, she was finally free. No more secrets or lies. She waited for someone to say something. Bodhi looked to Reed, whose eyes darted around the room as if he were following a bird trapped inside. Reed coughed and used a white handkerchief from his pocket to dab at his mouth.

“Where would he have gotten the Oxy?” Bodhi asked. “It didn’t come from the pharmacy.”

“Where does anyone get anything,” Cleo said. “If someone wants something, from my experience they’ll find a way.”

Bodhi raised an eyebrow at Cleo. “Wait, weren’t you in the pharmacy that day?”

“Getting busted for shoplifting? Yes, that’s my claim to fame.”

Bodhi grinned. Devon wondered if there was some weird sense of respect between the two of them. Both were criminals, but honest in their own ways.

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