Killing Ruby Rose (14 page)

I stared down at the pictures in the file. Remarkably, Vay looked clean-cut, owned his own small business, and even had a wife and two kids. He also hardly went anywhere, so there were far fewer pictures of him to study.

“Hey, check that out.” Liam pointed to one of the photos I’d put down. It was of Stanley Violet outside his gas station talking to someone in a vehicle. “See that black cargo van? It’s the same one from this picture.” He grabbed the photo I was holding and slid it next to his.

I gasped, my heart thumping in my ears. Could this be true? “Oh. My. Mother.”

“It’s the same vehicle, right? And part of the license plate shows.”

“Liam, I can’t believe this,” I said, leaning in to him to see the photos better. “I totally missed that. But is that a
D
or an
8
?” I pointed at the plate.

“Are you blind? First of all, a
D
looks nothing like an
8
. And anyway, it’s neither—it’s a
zero
.” He was clearly enjoying his breakthrough.

I squinted at the image, scrunching up my nose as though that would make the image suddenly clear. “It’s definitely a
D
.”

“Whatever you say,” he said, imitating my expression. Mother Jane would be dismayed to know that a boy had caught me looking so unattractive. I didn’t care. This was huge.

“Come on,” I said, shoving the files into my bag. “Let’s get back to my place before my mom gets home. I want to get on my dad’s computer and check the plates.”

CHAPTER 14

I didn’t go into my dad’s office very often. Only to do some research on the “official ongoing investigation” into his death, and some digging on the Filthy Five. Otherwise, it had been virtually untouched since he died—his gun case securely locked, the minifridge stocked with Corona Lights, and his dearly beloved semper fi flag hung on the wall. If I didn’t know better, it felt like he might be coming home any minute to skedaddle me out of his man cave.

This time, as I prepared to do research with Liam, I noticed a large coin on the mouse pad. I picked it up to move it aside and realized what it was—my dad’s Challenge Coin. What was it doing here? He’d always had it on him, and it wasn’t here the last time I’d come in. Had he accidentally dropped it under the desk before he died, and the cleaning lady found it recently and put it somewhere we’d see it?

“What’s that?” Liam said, as I turned it over in my hand.

“A coin that everyone in my dad’s SWAT unit had,” I said, trying to remember its significance. “It says ‘Loyalty. Courage. Commitment.’ Though, I’m pretty sure they just used it for bar games. When someone taps it, it’s supposed to alert everyone to a challenge. The last person in the unit to pull out their coin and start tapping has to buy everyone drinks.” I shook my head. “Like they need any more drinking in SWAT.” I put the coin in my pocket anyway. It instantly made me feel closer to Dad.

I wiggled the computer mouse, and the last program used popped up. The large screen lit up with a photo from my sixth birthday party—my dad and me smiling at each other over a massive plate of sizzling fajitas and fruity drinks with umbrellas. My heart sputtered at the sight. I didn’t remember looking at these photos the last time I was in here. My mom must’ve used the computer, which surprised me since I was under the impression that she hadn’t stepped foot in here since his death. Maybe she missed him a lot more than she let on.

I closed the files and closed off my heart. No time for weakness now. Instead, I opened the license plate database, silently thanking Liam for not asking me any questions about the picture.

I typed in the letters and numbers I could see in the photo, filling in all the other fields I could—commercial van, black, standard California plates. Two-thousand-plus hits registered.

“Stupid overcrowded California,” I mumbled, typing in a few variations. Three-thousand-plus hits came up each time.

“Dead end,” I said and flopped back in my dad’s oversized desk chair. A hint of musk from the leather and his cologne wafted up, and I pinched my eyes, pretending to feel frustrated, but really feeling like sobbing. If only my dad were here. He would know what to do. He would get his team to track down every lead and protect me.

“Ruby, are you all right?” Liam touched my leg and made me jump.

“I’m fine,” I said, feeling stupid.

“You just looked…” He paused, searching for the right word.

“I’m sorry,” I interrupted. “I’m good. I’m just not used to having someone around like this. Alana’s usually here to create mindless diversions for me, but not
…
this.” I gestured at whatever invisible
thing
hovered between us.

“Well, get used to it,” he said gently, momentarily holding my cheek.

Flustered, I looked back to the blurry photo and studied it again.

“I wish I had one of those huge lenses so these effin’ letters would actually be decipherable. One of those slimy paparazzi guys named Sammy had one that could probably take pictures of life on Mars. He’s the guy who put most of those pictures of me in the tabloids. He was around here a lot when my dad first died, always saying these creepy personal things about me, baiting me to look at his stupid camera. After LeMarq, he was one of those sniper paparazzi hiding in the bushes at school. He’s a real tool.”

Liam sat up higher and laughed like I’d finally hit the punch line of a hilarious joke. “It’s not that funny,” I assured him.

“No, it’s not that. I’m not laughing
at
you, even though it is pretty ridiculous,” he said with a stupid grin I almost felt like wiping off him. “You just found the answer to the problem.”

I stared at him. “I didn’t know we were doing math tutoring. Which problem?”

“Let’s go find this guy Sammy, and he’ll have the photos we’re looking for. If he was watching your every move with his privacy-invading camera,
and
the guy behind all of this was watching you, too, chances are there are more images out there. Maybe more than a license plate.”

I sat there speechless, suddenly understanding. Not only would Sammy have photos, but insider information on the “Investigation” of LeMarq, and maybe even my dad’s, too. Somehow these guys always knew more than they should. Like how many times I frequented the 31 Flavors on Main Street for Double Dutch chocolate scoops when I was “depressed.”

Sure, there was a risk Sammy would take advantage of the fact I was doing my own investigations and asking my own questions. But that was a risk I had to take.

“Liam,” I said, “you’re a freaking genius.”

“Rue! I’m home,” my mom yelled just outside the door.

“Oh, snap, it’s Mom,” I muttered. Like a cat landing on all fours, I stood up, clicked off the monitor, and shut the drawer with my dad’s passwords.

As my brain raced through how all this would look to her, I decided to play the awkward card. “Liam, she’ll know I’m hiding something by being in here. Just pretend we were making out, OK? That’ll really throw her off.”

He stared at me for a few moments. “Really?” he whispered, eyes bright. “Won’t she be totally pissed at me?”

“Who cares if she’s pissed at
you
?” I didn’t understand why he would even care how my absentee mother felt about him.

“Well, she could put me away for good. Everyone knows how tough Prosecutor Jane Rose is.”

“For kissing?”

“For perjury,” he said with a devilish grin. “You can’t ask me to lie, can you?”

He moved in closer and put his arm around me, cradling my neck. He looked down at me with an intensity I almost couldn’t handle, waiting for my permission. What was I going to do—say no?

Suddenly, he wasn’t asking anymore. The moment our lips touched, my eyes fluttered shut in a rush of sensation. His hands, his body, and his mouth were slowly, tenderly, exquisitely consuming me. His warm breath and lips reminded me of melting campfire chocolate—soft and full, smooth and sweet, but dangerously hot. A tingling heat rose in my body. I’d been kissed before, but never like this.

I squeezed the back of his shirt into my fists and pulled him even closer. He didn’t seem to mind as he brought both hands to my face, then to my shoulders, then to my hips. I didn’t even know what to do with my hands anymore. I didn’t mean to touch his abs, but there they were under my fingertips. Waves of adrenaline and desire surged in me with each kiss and touch.

I finally took a breath and realized how desperate I was for oxygen. He rested his forehead on mine, and we breathed the same air. I couldn’t open my eyes yet—I was too dizzy.

“Wow, Ruby Rose, no wonder they say you’re lethal,” Liam whispered.

I playfully slugged him in the chest. “Hey, easy with the name-calling.”

“Sorry,” he said, kissing my cheek, then my neck, then moving back up to my lips. “At least we won’t be lying.”

I heard my mom just outside the door murmuring intermittent curses. She must’ve been going upstairs, because her voice trailed off around the third F-bomb. She definitely didn’t know we were in here.

“I think she might have a case against me for assault,” I said, looking at his wrinkled shirt and swollen lips. “You look like you just got mauled by a bear.”

So much for restraint. As in every other aspect of my life, I was losing my self-control.

Liam smoothed out his clothes and tried to straighten up, but he couldn’t erase the giddiness written all over his face. Which was good, because that was exactly what I needed my mom to see. I clutched my backpack and mentally prepared myself for the confrontation.

“C’mon.” I grabbed his hand and led him out of the room. Once we hit the stairs, I yelled, “Mom, I’m down here.”

A few seconds later, she popped her head out of my room. And one second after that, her eyes nearly popped out of her head.

“Rue, what
…
who
…
how…” she stammered. Poor D. A. Jane was at a loss for words. She was a mess, and she knew it. Shirt untucked, a few strands of unruly hair askew. As she descended the stairs, she straightened herself up as much as she could.

“This is my friend Liam. We were just studying for a Calculus test,” I said.

“I wasn’t expecting company,” she said with a salty tone directed at me. “Though it’s lovely to meet your
friend
.” Liam smiled back, not knowing what to say. The look on Mom’s face was bizarre at best. Was she pulling a cougar move on the first boy I ever let into my house?

Mission Awkward: Accomplished.

I watched as she accumulated the evidence against us. Messy hair, pink lips, guilty faces. I couldn’t tell if she was mad or jealous. Or maybe she was just flat-out flabbergasted.

“We were just leaving, actually,” I said. “Study group.”

“It’s almost eight o’clock on a school night!” she argued. “And I got dinner—fresh halibut from Duke’s.”

“Well, we have a big test tomorrow, and I already ate.” I rebutted each point, just like she’d taught me. “I promise to be home by ten.”

I turned to go. I wasn’t exactly asking for permission.

Liam followed me to the door but stopped midway to do the proper thing. “It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Rose.”

“It was nice to meet you, too, Liam,” she replied, looking him up and down again. Even in her disheveled state, she was beautiful and she knew it.

I wanted to slap her right then. For how many reasons, I wasn’t sure.

CHAPTER 15

Groggy didn’t cover it. And third-period History wasn’t helping.

To keep my head from collapsing on my desk, I supported my chin in my hands and propped open my eyes. Even then, the dim lights and gentle hum of the projector were luring me to sleep.

The long day and the late night with Liam had left me drained. Finding Sammy proved far more challenging than just calling
Star
Magazine
and being connected to the desk of Sam Carmichael, who was credited with the “Hollywood Belles in Bikinis” pictures this week. We left a few messages and wrote a few e-mails before being forced into patiently waiting for a reply.

The endless early morning hours had left me exhausted—tossing and turning in bed with memories of blood and gunshots. And the warm room and Mrs. Monotone Voice weren’t helping.

The only thing that kept me going was a steady intake of a very caffeinated soda in my thermos, and the invigorating memory of Liam’s lips on mine.

Finally, the lunch bell rang and I hurried to meet Alana at her locker, just as I’d done every other school day for the last five years. As I approached, I noticed she wore long sleeves—despite the warm day. She was hiding the bruising from the ties.

“Hey, Alana,” I said in my best lighthearted, glad-you’re-alive tone, as I slid up to the locker next to her. She jumped at the sound of my voice.

“Hey,” she said without looking in my direction. Instead, she kept her focus on switching the books from her backpack to her locker.

“Why haven’t you returned my calls? I’ve been really worried—”

“Please, Ruby.”

“Please, Ruby, what?” I asked.

“I gave you space when you needed it—now it’s time to return the favor.” Surely she was speaking to her textbooks, not to me.

“Uh
…
no, if you recall, you
never
gave me the space I wanted. And I understand why. You were only being a good friend.” I put my hand on her shoulder.

She jerked away and turned to face me. “I was wrong. I should’ve listened to you. I should’ve understood. Now I’m asking you—”

“To what? Abandon you when you need me the most?”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Ruby. I really
don’t
need you.” She shut her locker with force. The crash of metal against metal was jarring.

“I get why you’d feel that way right now. But you
have to understand that I never meant for you to get hurt.”

“Look, I don’t know what happened or why. I just know I don’t want any part of it. Can you understand
that
?” She hurriedly zipped up her backpack.

“I do. But
…
you’re my best friend.” I looked down, searching for the words to convince her to forgive and forget. But mostly to forget.

“Consider this my best-friend breakup speech then,” she said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. I almost laughed. She’d threatened to “break up” with me many times over the years.

“Alana, you’re being silly,” I said, reaching out to her again.

She pulled away and took a few steps backward, shaking her head. “You know, all these years I thought the guns and the training were just more of your weird
…
quirks
. Just a strange way to spite your overbearing mom, or a bizarre way to bond with your
dysfunctional
dad.”

Hey! I thought she loved my dad. He’d taught her to shoot, too!

“Alana, don’t…” I didn’t need to finish that sentence. She knew my dad was out of bounds.

“But now I’m not sure what to think anymore. I’ve always given you the benefit of the doubt. Even when you killed that LeMarq dude and your mom took care of it. But the problem is”—she paused, with a look of sadness that turned to blame—“I know you too well, Ruby Rose. You’ve always been the one looking for the fight.”

I ground my teeth in a flash of anger. OK, I got it—she was pissed. I almost got her killed and then tried to pretend nothing had happened. But attacking my family? Not cool. What was next? Burning my favorite pair of UGGs?

At the same time, though, she was right about one thing. Alana had known me too well, and for a long time. Of course, she didn’t know the details—that I was stalking LeMarq and The Stick—but she knew I was more involved than I was letting on.

I closed my eyes, calling on my problem-solving skills to give me the words I needed to persuade her to freaking relax.

“You’re overreacting, Alana,” I said, opening my eyes to find her walking away. “Would you just wait? We need to talk about this.”

“I’m sorry, Rue,” she said, clearly not sorry at all. “But I’m sure Liam would just love to ‘talk.’ You two can share your secrets.”

“What? Liam?” I looked behind me. Liam was at his locker, trying to pretend he wasn’t listening. He gave me a sheepish smile, and I smiled back weakly.

When I turned back to Alana, she was already disappearing around the corner.

“She’ll come around.” Liam’s gentle voice softened the blow. “As soon as we figure all this out, she’ll understand.”

“There’s that
we
again,” I said, backing up against the locker, still shaken from Alana’s cutting words. “You sure you don’t want out yet? A good night’s sleep didn’t give you more sense?”

He put his hand on the locker next to me and leaned in. “Not after the way you kissed me last night,” he whispered.

The heat blossomed in my cheeks. Surely he wasn’t considering kissing me right here in the hall? That would be highly inappropriate and at the same time freaking amazing.

“Any news on that schmucky Sammy dude?” he asked.

“Ha, no.” I smiled. “He hasn’t returned any of my e-mails or phone messages. You?”

“Nah, but he’ll call. Don’t worry.” Liam gently touched my face. I really hoped no one was watching me melt right now. “Come on, let’s get something to eat.”

Every day Liam and I ate lunch at school (enduring Alana’s spectrum of looks from disdain to disappointment), and every night we patrolled the Hollywood hotspots looking for Sammy and his missile-sized camera. But the schmuck was good at what he did. He was a ghost—just like Mr. D. S., the even bigger schmuck behind all this madness. And I was the haunted.

I didn’t like being on the defensive all the time. I had to find a way to regain control of my life. Except I couldn’t figure out how.

Until nearly two weeks later on Halloween, when the ghost finally called.