The Body Finder (23 page)

 

The next few days were hard for Violet. She felt like she was sleepwalking through school, and restlessly fighting against sleep each night. It was impossible to hide the strain from Jay, who had become increasingly attentive, recognizing what was bothering her even before she was able to voice it out loud.

“You know they're going to find him, right?” he finally offered one afternoon.

“I know,” she answered, but even she knew that her voice was too bright, and her response too quick, to be sincere.

His voice was serious when he asked, “Do you, Vi? I think it's bothering you more than you want to admit. I think you're scared.”

She was annoyed that he'd figured it out so easily. She thought she'd been keeping up appearances fairly well, only to find out that she was completely transparent. She wondered if her parents were as perceptive as Jay was about her fears. “I know,” she said again. This time her voice was tinged with defeat. “I just can't quit thinking about it—about
him
. I was so scared, Jay. And if you hadn't come looking for me…” She trailed off, unable to even imagine what might have happened out there…alone with her assailant in the shadow of the trees.

Jay's jaw clenched tightly, as if the image was too much for even him to bear, but his voice was considerate. “I know you're afraid. But they
will
catch him, and until then, I'm not gonna let you out of my sight. No one's going to let anything bad happen to you.” He didn't say it, but Violet heard the word
again
hanging there behind his words.

But she still felt better just hearing his reassurances, like she wasn't alone.

“I'm okay. I think all this isolation, and all the extra security stuff, is just starting to wear on me. I'm going a little stir-crazy being cooped up all the time.” She tried to explain her sulky mood. “Especially with Homecoming this weekend. The idea of sitting around here, while everyone else is out having fun, just sucks.”

He didn't react the way she'd expected him to react. She'd expected some more sympathy, and maybe even some suggestive comments about the two of them being left alone together. What she didn't expect was for him to smile at her. But he did. And it was his sideways smile, which told Violet that he knew something she didn't.

“What?” she demanded adamantly.

He grinned. He was definitely keeping something from her.

“Tell me!” she insisted, glowering at him.

“I don't know…” he teased her. “I'm not sure you deserve it.”

She punched him in the arm for making her beg. “Please, just tell me.”

He laughed at her. “Fine. I give up. Bully.” He pretended to rub his arm where she'd hit him. “What if I were to tell you that…”—he dragged it out, making her lean closer in anticipation, his crooked smile lighting up his face—“…we're still going to the dance?”

Violet was speechless. That wasn't at all what she'd expected him to say.

“Yeah, right,” she retorted cynically. “My parents barely let me go to school, let alone go to the dance.”

“You're right, they didn't want you to go, but we talked about it, and even your uncle Stephen helped out. The football game was definitely out of the question; there are just too many people coming and going, and there're no restrictions for getting in. But the dance is at school, in the gym. Only
students and their dates can get in, and your uncle said he was already planning to have extra security there. So, as long as I promise to keep a close eye on you…which I do”—his voice suggested that the last part had nothing to do with keeping her safe, and Violet felt her cheeks flushing in response—“your parents have agreed to let you go.”

She glanced down at her ankle, double-wrapped in Ace bandages, and completely useless. “But I can't dance.” She felt crestfallen.

He slid his finger beneath her chin and lifted it up so that she was staring into his eyes. “I don't care at all if we dance. I just want to take my
girlfriend
”—his emphasis on the word gave her goose bumps, and she smiled—“to Homecoming.”

They stayed there like that, with their eyes locked and unspoken meaning passing between them, for several long, electrifying moments. Violet was the first to break the spell. “Lissie'll be there,” she stated in a voice that was devoid of any real jealousy.

Jay shook his head, still gazing at her intently. “I won't even notice her. I won't be able to take my eyes off you.”

Violet was glad she was already sitting, because his words made her feel weak and fluttery. The corner of her mouth twitched upward with satisfaction. “Not if I have any say in it, you won't,” she answered.

IT DIDN'T TAKE LONG FOR VIOLET TO ADJUST TO
the idea of going to the dance. In truth, Saturday night couldn't come fast enough.

Friday went by in a blur of activity. There was a huge pep assembly at school that took up the last half of the afternoon. The entire football team was introduced, to a frenzy of cheers and screams from the student body watching from the bleachers. Violet wished more than ever that she didn't have to miss the game, but she understood all too well why she couldn't go. Still, it was easy to get swept up in the fervor of school spirit.

When the Homecoming Court was announced, Violet
felt a moment of insecurity. Lissie gracefully swept out on to the hardwood floor of the gymnasium like she'd been born for this role. Violet glanced inconspicuously at Jay, wondering why on earth he would have picked her over the stunning Lissie Adams.

But he wasn't looking at Lissie. All of his attention was focused on Violet instead, and he caught her fleeting look in his direction.

“She's not half as beautiful as you are,” he promised, in answer to her silent doubts.

She nudged him lightly with her shoulder. “Shut up.” But she couldn't keep the smile off her lips as she said it.

“Knock it off, you guys. Get a room, for God's sake!” Chelsea squealed at the two of them above the clamor of the crowd in the bleachers.

When the assembly was over, Jay became a human barrier between Violet, who was wobbling along on her crutches, and the throng of students in their mass exodus to get away from the school. In the parking lot, car horns were blaring loudly and windows were rolled down, despite the cool autumn weather, and the air was filled with shrieks and battle cries. The game was going to be thunderous tonight.

Jay drove Violet home, where she thought he'd be staying with her for the evening, so she was surprised when they got to her house and Jay's mom was waiting for him in the driveway.

“Where're you going?” she asked, trying not to sound too upset that he was leaving.

He shrugged noncommittally, and Violet had the impression that he was being evasive on purpose. “I have some things I need to do. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Violet tried to hide her disappointment as he helped her inside, carrying her backpack over one shoulder and keeping one hand protectively at the base of her back, just in case she lost her balance.

He kissed her good-bye, and then kissed her again, and then again. Pretty soon five minutes had passed, and Jay's mom honked her car horn out in the driveway.

“'Bye, Violet,” he whispered against her cheek, his voice thick with desire. “I love you.”

She watched him leave, still reeling from his kisses.

 

The night without Jay hadn't been a total loss…except for the devastating loneliness…and the overwhelming desire to be at the Homecoming Game with all her friends…and the crushing boredom.

She started a book she'd been planning to read. Stopped. Tried another. Gave up on that one too. And finally worked her way down the stairs to hang out with her parents. When they went to bed, which was barely at the crack of ten o'clock, Violet was left on her own once again.

It took some doing, but she finally managed to fix a bowl of microwave popcorn and actually get it to the family room, eventually giving up on the crutches and hopping—carefully—from one room to the next. She was exhausted by the time she reached the couch again. So when the tapping
started, so faint that she wasn't sure she'd even heard it at first, she tried to convince herself that it was nothing.

But it didn't go away, and in fact it got louder, and pretty soon Violet knew that she couldn't just ignore it. It was coming from the front door.

She was a little afraid, even though she told herself that she shouldn't be. There was a cop out there, facing the entrance. And her parents were right upstairs; all she had to do was yell and they'd come running.

She finally got up, which was not a small feat in itself, and decided to at least look through the peephole before deciding whether or not to answer it. She didn't move quickly, for obvious reasons, and the tapping continued in intermittent spurts, not really getting louder but remaining fairly constant.

Despite self-reassurances, her heart was beating too fast and her mouth was suddenly too dry. She tried to concentrate on sensing anything unusual coming from the other side of the door.

When she finally reached it, she bent forward and looked through the peephole.

Jay was grinning back at her from outside.

Her heart leaped for a completely different reason.

She set aside her crutches and quickly unbolted the door to open it.

“What took you so long?”

Her knee was bent and her ankle pulled up off the ground. She balanced against the doorjamb. “What d'you think, dumbass?” she retorted smartly, keeping her voice down so
she wouldn't alert her parents. “You scared the crap out of me, by the way. My parents are already in bed, and I was all alone down here.”

“Good!” he exclaimed as he reached in and grabbed her around the waist, dragging her up against him and wrapping his arms around her.

She giggled while he held her there, enjoying everything about the feel of him against her. “What are you doing here? I thought I wouldn't see you till tomorrow.”

“I wanted to show you something!” He beamed at her, and his enthusiasm reached out to capture her in its grip. She couldn't help smiling back excitedly.

“What is it?” she asked breathlessly.

He didn't release her; he just turned, still holding her gently in his arms, so that she could see out into the driveway. The first thing she noticed was the officer in his car, alert now as he kept a watchful eye on the two of them. Violet realized that it was late, already past eleven, and from the look on his face, she thought he must have been hoping for a quiet, uneventful evening out there.

And then she saw the car. It was beautiful and sleek, painted a glossy black that, even in the dark, reflected the light like a polished mirror. Violet recognized the Acura insignia on the front of the hood, and even though she could tell it wasn't brand-new, it looked like it had been well taken care of.

“Whose is it?” she asked admiringly. It was
way
better than her crappy little Honda.

Jay grinned again, his face glowing with enthusiasm. “It's
mine. I got it tonight. That's why I had to go. My mom had the night off, and I wanted to get it before…” He smiled down at her. “I didn't want to borrow your car to take you to the dance.”

“Really?” she breathed. “How…? I didn't even know you were…” She couldn't seem to find the right words; she was envious and excited for him all at the same time.

“I know, right?” he answered, as if she'd actually asked coherent questions. “I've been saving for…
for forever
, really. What do you think?”

Violet smiled at him, thinking that he was entirely too perfect for her. “I think it's beautiful,” she said with more meaning than he understood. And then she glanced back at the car. “I had no idea that you were getting a car. I love it, Jay,” she insisted, wrapping her arms around his neck as he hoisted her up, cradling her like a small child.

“I'd offer to take you for a test-drive, but I'm afraid that Supercop over there would probably Taser me with his stun gun. So you'll have to wait until tomorrow,” he said, and without waiting for an invitation he carried her inside, dead bolting the door behind him.

He settled down on the couch, where she'd been sitting by herself just moments before, without letting her go. There was a movie on the television, but neither of them paid any attention to it as Jay reclined, stretching out and drawing her down into the circle of his arms. They spent the rest of the night like that, cradled together, their bodies fitting each other perfectly, as they kissed and whispered and laughed quietly in the darkness.

At some point Violet was aware that she was drifting into sleep, as her thoughts turned dreamlike, becoming disjointed and fuzzy and hard to hold on to. She didn't fight it; she enjoyed the lazy, drifting feeling, along with the warmth created by the cocoon of Jay's body wrapped protectively around her.

It was the safest she'd felt in days…maybe weeks….

And for the first time since she'd been chased by the man in the woods, her dreams were free from monsters.

THE DAY OF THE DANCE WAS LIKE A DREAM.

Violet woke up alone. She realized that Jay must have left sometime during the night, and she'd stayed where she was, curled up contentedly on the couch, basking in the warmth he'd left behind.

As she stretched and finally forced her nebulous thoughts to clear, she remembered Jay's new car. She was thrilled for him all over again as she easily recaptured his image in her mind's eye, that childlike enthusiasm on his face as he showed off his new toy. She smiled to herself at the memory of it. She couldn't wait to ride in it, with Jay behind the wheel.

She couldn't wait to go to the dance.

She spent a lot of the day fielding text messages from her friends…and forcing herself
not
to call Jay, allowing the expectancy to build to a crescendo, the suspense filling her senses as intoxicatingly as any narcotic. She was giddy by the time she was slipping into her dress.

Her mom made several appearances, camera in hand, to take pictures of her getting ready. It seemed to be exactly what they needed as a family, something to take their mind off all the tragic and frightening events of the past weeks. Even her father, who still had reservations about her going, couldn't stop telling her how beautiful she looked when her mom dragged him in to see Violet all dressed up.

Her dress was simple enough: a soft, flowing, black jersey fabric with a narrow Empire waist and a halter top that created a V-shaped neckline. The crisscrossing straps in back held up a scoop of fabric that ended in a soft wave, exposing a generous length of nearly bare skin from her shoulders to below her midback. It clung to Violet's body in all the right places, and the hem all but covered her strappy sandals, for which Violet was now grateful, knowing that it would also cover the ugly, unavoidable ankle brace she would be forced to wear.

The effect was not only elegant but dramatic.

Violet felt like a princess.

Not like one of Lissie's band of nauseatingly counterfeit princesses, but like a real one. From a fairy tale.

A really,
really
sexy fairy tale.

Her mom helped Violet to pin back her hair, leaving wisps of strategic curls to fall loose, framing her delicate porcelain
face perfectly. And for the first time, probably ever, Violet was grateful not to have the same stick-straight hair that all the other girls had. Her eyes were striking, with smoky charcoal liner and a luscious coat of lash-lengthening mascara that outlined the flecked emerald green of her irises. The color in her cheeks had little to do with the makeup she wore, since she was flushed with excitement.

Her dad poked his head in just as her mom was crouching down to help her fasten the tiny buckle of her shoe, the final touch.

He whistled approvingly. “I'm starting to have second thoughts again. I'm not sure I should be letting you out of the house like this.” He smiled, but his eyes were tearing up a little, and Violet knew that he was comparing her to the little girl she once was.

Her own eyes started to burn, and she fanned her hands in front of them. “Stop it, Dad! You're gonna make me cry too.”

Greg Ambrose took a cleansing breath and composed himself before announcing, “Jay's downstairs waiting.”

With her father on one side, and the handrail on the other, Violet descended the stairs as if she were floating. Jay stood at the bottom, watching her, frozen in place like a statue.

His black suit looked as if it had been tailored just for him. His jacket fell across his strong shoulders in a perfect line, tapering at his narrow waist. The crisp white linen shirt beneath stood out in contrast against the dark, finely woven wool. He smiled appreciatively as he watched her approach, and Violet felt her breath catch in her throat at the striking
image of flawlessness that he presented.

“You…are so
beautiful
,” he whispered fervently as he strode toward her, taking her dad's place at her arm.

She smiled sheepishly up at him. “So are you.”

Her mom insisted on taking no fewer than a hundred pictures of the two of them, both alone and together, until Violet felt like her eyes had been permanently damaged by the blinding flash. Finally her father called off her mom, dragging her away into the kitchen so that Violet and Jay could have a moment alone together.

“I meant it,” he said. “You look amazing.”

She shook her head, not sure what to say, a little embarrassed by the compliment.

“I got you something,” he said to her as he reached inside his jacket. “I hope you don't mind, it's not a corsage.”

Violet couldn't have cared less about having flowers to pin on her dress, but she
was
curious about what he had brought for her. She watched as he dragged out the moment longer than he needed to, taking his time to reveal his surprise.

“I got you this instead.” He pulled out a black velvet box, the kind that holds fine jewelry. It was long and narrow.

She gasped as she watched him lift the lid.

Inside was a delicate silver chain, and on it was the polished outline of a floating silver heart that drifted over the chain that held it.

Violet reached out to touch it with her fingertip. “It's beautiful,” she sighed.

He lifted the necklace from the box and held it out to
her. “May I?” he asked.

She nodded, her eyes bright with excitement as he clasped the silver chain around her bare throat. “Thank you,” she breathed, interlacing her hand into his and squeezing it meaningfully.

She reluctantly used the crutches to get out to the car, since there were no handrails for her to hold on to. She felt like they ruined the overall effect she was going for.

Jay's car was as nice on the inside as it was outside. The interior was rich, smoky gray leather that felt like soft butter as he helped her inside. Aside from a few minor flaws, it could have passed for brand-new. The engine purred to life when he turned the key in the ignition, something that her car had never done. Roar, maybe—purr, never.

She was relieved that her uncle hadn't ordered a police escort for the two of them to the dance. She had half expected to see a procession of marked police cars, lights swirling and sirens blaring, in the wake of Jay's sleek black Acura.

Despite sitting behind the wheel of his shiny new car, Jay could scarcely take his eyes off her. His admiring gaze found her over and over again, while he barely concentrated on the road ahead of him. Fortunately they didn't have far to go.

Even the parking lot at school had an entirely different feel as the cover of night began to fall in a sheer dark curtain, allowing the distant twinkling of the stars to break through the dusky sky. Violet could hear the music migrating out from the open doors of the gymnasium as couples paraded into the dance.

Jay patiently led Violet inside, showing his student ID, and then helping Violet with hers, to the two teachers manning the door and checking identifications. Once inside, Violet was surprised at herself. She had expected her hypercritical eyes to devour everything and mentally tear it to shreds, from the cheesy décor to the dorky DJ playing the music and trying to be “hip” to what the kids were into. Right down to the obnoxious and unpleasant Queen Lissie.

But she didn't. She kind of liked it, in
all
of its tacky splendor.

She let Jay lead her to the photographer, a man in a cheap suit with a greasy comb-over-style hairdo. They had their picture taken in front of a backdrop of draped tulle in shades of pink and red, and flanked by freestanding white—probably Styrofoam—pillars that were meant to look Greek and tragically romantic. Instead, they looked tragically shabby, as if they might crumble at any moment from years of overuse. But Violet didn't care about any of it; she could hardly breathe whenever she glanced sideways at her arrestingly handsome date.

When they were finished they saw Chelsea and Claire. Actually, the two overly wound-up girls came running right
at
Violet, screaming with excitement to see her. As if they didn't see her every single day.

“Oh…
my…
God, Violet! You look
amazing
!” Claire gushed at her, and Violet tried not to be insulted by the insinuation that it was so far-fetched for her to look good.

And then Jules walked up with her date, a senior from
another high school, and Violet almost didn't recognize the tall, leggy bombshell towering over her. Jules wore an almost sinful black dress with a bustier top that left little to the imagination and no room for a bra of any kind. Before this moment, Violet hadn't even realized that Jules
had
boobs, let alone full-on cleavage.

“Wow!” Claire breathed, unable to say anything beyond that single word. And suddenly Violet wasn't so insulted, because Jules's transformation had actually left Claire, the girl who always had something to say, completely speechless.

The music was loud, and the bass was up way too high, making everything from floor to ceiling vibrate. They had to raise their voices just to hear one another.

“Yeah, Jules!” Chelsea said in a voice thick with envy. “Go away, you're making the rest of us look bad.” She winked at Jules's date wickedly. “I bet you just want to eat her up, don't ya?”

He stared at Chelsea with bewilderment and glanced back at Jules for help.

“Just ignore her,” Jules explained over the noise from the sound system. “She doesn't get out much.”

Chelsea tried to look hurt by Jules's words, but she couldn't quite pull it off. “I'm just sayin', Jules, he'd better watch his back tonight, or I might be trying to take you away from him.” Chelsea loved to play the potentially
bi-curious
card, even though everyone knew she liked boys far too much to go to bat for the other team.

“Gross!” cried Claire, who wasn't pretending at all. Claire
hated it when the conversation deviated too far off her straight and narrow path. The operative word being
straight.

“Don't worry, Claire-bear,” Chelsea soothed condescendingly. “I'm not going to hook up with Jules.” She wrapped her arm around Claire's waist and then said suggestively in her ear, “I'm much more likely to make a move on you.”

“Eww!”
Claire shrieked, shoving Chelsea away. “Get away from me!”

“Leave her alone, Chels,” Jules interrupted. “Or you're gonna make her start her ‘
It's Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve
' speech. And, sorry, Claire, but none of us really want to hear that.”

Jay pulled Violet close to him as they listened to the familiar, playful bantering. He slid his arm around her waist from behind, and let his lips gently tease her earlobe while no one was paying attention to the two of them. Violet wanted to turn around right there, in his arms, and forget this whole
dance thing
altogether.

“Hey!” Chelsea's voice interrupted them, and Violet jumped a little, realizing that everyone was staring at them. “Did you hear me?”

Violet leaned forward on her crutches and away from Jay, still feeling bemused by the close and intimate contact. “What?” she asked, trying to focus on what had been said.

“I said, ‘I gotta pee.' Let's go to the bathroom,” Chelsea repeated as if Violet were some sort of imbecile, incapable of understanding normal human speech.

“Keep it up, Chels, and none of us is gonna want to hook
up with you tonight,” Violet promised jokingly.

Chelsea grinned at Violet. “I like the way you think, Violet Ambrose. Maybe you'll be the lucky girl I choose.” And then she turned to Jay. “Don't worry, I've got her from here,” Chelsea announced. Jules and Claire followed.

Violet laughed and glanced back at him. “I'll only be a few.”

Jay gave her a skeptical look that no one else would have even noticed, as he assessed the three girls who would be escorting Violet. And then he finally nodded. “Okay, I'm gonna show these guys my car.” He was beaming again. “I'll be right outside, but I won't be long.”

Violet did her best to keep up with the trio ahead of her, but it was hard on one high heel and two crutches. Finally she yelled at them exasperatedly, “If you guys don't wait, I'm not going!”

They all three stopped and turned around.

Chelsea tapped her lovely silver shoe impatiently. “Hurry up, Violet, or I swear I'll take you
off
my list.”