The Body Finder (9 page)

“
OOH, I LIKE THOSE ONES,” CLAIRE EVERTON
gushed as Violet lifted the hems of her jeans to show off another pair of shoes.

Chelsea rolled her eyes, her lush black lashes giving the gesture dramatic effect. “Claire, you've liked every single pair you've seen so far. Show me the ones you
don't
like.”

Claire's shoulder slumped as she pouted. “All I said was I liked them. I didn't say she should get them.”

Chelsea shot Violet a frustrated look before turning back to Claire to take pity on the girl's fragile ego. It seemed like a near-monumental act for Chelsea, who rarely checked what she said before saying it aloud.

For the most part, it was one of the things Violet liked about Chelsea, but sometimes, like now for example, Chelsea had to do a little damage control.

“I know, Claire-bear,” Chelsea cooed in a patronizing baby-talk voice. “I didn't mean to snap at you.”

Claire didn't seem to feel patronized at all and cheered up immediately. She turned away and plucked up another pair of shoes and gazed at them longingly, and they heard her saying, “I like these too…” as she wandered deeper into the Nordstrom shoe department.

Chelsea glanced back to Violet and wrinkled her nose as she looked at the shoes Violet had on. “I don't like them,” she stated in her matter-of-fact tone, all traces of the baby talk long gone.

Violet shook her head. “Me neither.”

The shopping trip had been meant to distract Violet from thinking about the recently discovered dead bodies. There was something about the two dead girls, something besides concerns over her own safety, that kept her feeling on edge.

She assumed that was natural considering that she'd been responsible for finding the girl in the lake. But she was struggling to concentrate on even the simplest of tasks, even one as easy as shopping.

Jules appeared then, practically from out of nowhere, carrying an armload of shoe boxes. “Here,” she insisted, handing Violet two boxes. “I found you the perfect pair. I wasn't sure how the sizes ran, so I got you a seven and a seven and half.” Then she turned to Chelsea. “These are for you.” One
box. Apparently she was pretty certain about the size. “Hey, A-D-D,” she called out to Claire, “come over and try these on.” She set two identical-looking boxes on a chair that she'd obviously designated for Claire.

And then she sat down in an empty seat and waited impatiently.

“What about you? Aren't you going to pick out a pair for yourself?” Chelsea asked Jules.

“I'm done. In the time you guys wasted looking for the ‘perfect' shoe, I found mine
and
all of yours. I even paid already…. They're holding them up at the counter for me.” She leaned forward in her chair, balancing her elbows on her knees, which were spread apart, making her look extremely out of place in the upscale ladies' shoe department.

There wasn't a feminine bone in Jules Oquist's body, although you wouldn't necessarily know it from her outward appearance. It wasn't until she moved, or spoke, or pretty much even breathed, that you couldn't help but notice what a tomboy the athletic girl really was. Outwardly, however, she was kind of pretty. But unlike Chelsea or the other girls, Jules didn't try to be. Hers was an understated prettiness that didn't need makeup or hair dryers. She had great coloring, soft honey-colored hair, and generously full lips. But that was where any comparisons to the female gender ended. This extended shopping trip wasn't exactly her cup of tea.

Chelsea opened her box and her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh my God, they're
exactly
what I've been looking for,” she breathed. Chelsea plopped down in one of the overstuffed
chairs and slid her foot into the delicate silver sandal, looking like Cinderella. And just as in the fairy tale, it fit perfectly. “Thanks, Jules.” Chelsea beamed, thrilled by her friend's choice.

Violet opened hers next, curious now to see how Jules had fared for her.

She hadn't been exactly ecstatic about going to the Homecoming Dance with Grady, but she had to admit she'd had a blast choosing a dress, and now, finding the right shoes to go with it. The strappy black sandals inside the box were striking. And even though Violet hadn't thought of wearing sandals, now that she saw them, she knew they would look great with her simple, elegant black dress. She loved the strap that crossed over the front of the ankle and clasped together with a subtle jeweled buckle on the side. The first pair she tried on was
exactly
her size.

So far, Jules was two for two.

Claire was next, and she was having a hard time waiting for her turn. As soon as Violet agreed that she had found her shoes, Claire dug into her box.

They were all a little surprised by the bold choice…a pair of shiny, red, patent leather, peep-toe pumps.

“What's up, Julia?” Chelsea asked, knowing that Jules hated to be called by her given name. “Have you gone all girlie on us?”

Jules looked offended by the mere suggestion and gave Chelsea a disgusted look. “I just wanted to give you guys a kick in the ass to move things along. Anything wrong with that?”

“Not at all,” Claire sighed breathlessly, looking at the shoes and not at Jules at all. “These are…they're…
hot
,” she finally said, finding the right word.

They were pretty hot, Violet thought, and they would look amazing with Claire's shoulder-baring halter dress.

Three for three was pretty impressive, especially for a girl who professed to hate shopping.

Jules stood up and stretched gracelessly. “Let's hurry up and pay before she”—she indicated Claire with a flick of her thumb—“sees something shiny and we lose her again.”

Violet was fine with the suggestion.

The mall was crowded for a Friday night, and because of that Violet had noticed at least a couple of sensory inputs that were strangely out of place in the shopping environment. With two girls found dead so recently, she seemed to be acutely aware of everything out of the ordinary lately, as if she were
searching
for the echoes, even in the most mundane places.

She'd recognized one, in particular. It was the odd scent of seawater coming from an older, distinguished-looking gentleman who was shopping with his wife in the shoe department. She only noticed it when he walked right by her, and she doubted that the smell had anything to do with the ocean at all. It was old, probably very old, and she wondered if the man had fought in a war in his lifetime. Or if he'd once been a hunter.

Either way, she doubted he was the killer.

After they paid and left the department store, Violet and
her friends decided to grab a bite to eat. Chelsea talked them into trying a Thai restaurant just down the street from the mall. Violet didn't need to be convinced. One thing she wasn't picky about was food—the more exotic the better. She especially liked anything that wasn't frozen lasagna or pizza delivery.

They shared orders of pad Thai, Swimming Angel, and some Vietnamese spring rolls that came with both a sweet garlic
and
a peanut dipping sauce. The smell of their jasmine-infused rice mingled with the scents of coconut sauces and chili peppers. By the time they were finished, Violet was stuffed and wondered if she'd even fit into her dress anymore.

On the ride to Chelsea's house, Claire chattered on and on about the upcoming dance. Violet was busy tuning out the incessant babbling until she heard Chelsea's voice, and Violet realized that she was talking to her.

“What?” Violet asked, pretending she just hadn't heard what Chelsea had said, instead of letting on that she wasn't listening to any of them at all.

“
I said
, is it weird for you that Jay's taking Lissie Adams to Homecoming?” Chelsea repeated it slowly, as if Violet were a dull-witted child.

Oh God, not this,
Violet thought. This was a subject she'd been hoping to avoid. She suddenly wished she were an ostrich so she could just bury her head in the sand and ignore the question entirely.

Unfortunately three sets of eyes, including Jules's, who was peering at Violet from the rearview mirror, were now staring back at her.

Okay, Vi, just play it casually
. “Weird? Why would it be weird? Jay and I are just friends. And Lissie seems okay.”

Eyebrows raised.

“
Ri-ight
.” The word was dragged out skeptically. Of course it was an unconvinced Chelsea who asked, “Why would
you
be jealous that he's taking a senior…no, no, check that,
the most popular senior in school
, to Homecoming?”

“Yes,” Violet answered, making it sound like Chelsea had made a statement rather than posed a damning question. “That's right, I would have no reason to be jealous…since we're
just friends
.” Now she was the one speaking slowly, as if they might have trouble comprehending her words.

They did, but not because they were too slow to understand them. They just weren't as clueless as Violet wanted them to be.

Claire reached over and patted Violet's leg in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture. Instead, Violet was annoyed by the condescending quality to it.

“Seriously, why is that so hard to understand?”

Why? Probably because it wasn't true. Or at least because even she didn't really want it to be true.

Jules turned her attention back to the road, and Claire shrugged her narrow shoulders delicately but unconvincingly. Chelsea glanced back over her shoulder at Violet, giving her a look that said she wasn't buying it at all, but at least she didn't say it out loud.

Violet was glad when Claire begin prattling on again, filling the awkward silence that had settled inside the car.

Violet knew, of course, that she had no business being jealous that Jay was going to the dance with Elisabeth Adams. He hadn't even actually asked the It-Girl until after he'd found out that Violet had agreed to go with Grady, and she'd been regretting
that
particular moment of weakness every second of every day since. And somehow the perfect shoes, to go with the perfect dress, didn't make her feel any better…even now. Because in the end, she was going to have to stand across the dance floor from the boy she really wanted to be there with and watch him dance with his own perfectly perfect date.

She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the endless stream of words dribbling from Claire's never-silent mouth.

She was really starting to worry about what she had gotten herself into.

 

Violet didn't have much time to think about the dance and how disappointed she was to be going with Grady instead of Jay. All worries about herself, and her own insignificant problems, were overshadowed by the news that greeted her when she arrived home the next morning, after staying the night at Chelsea's house.

Both of her parents were waiting for her in the living room when she walked through the front door.

Her mother was pacing in front of the fireplace, and her dad gave the impression that he'd been relaxing as he leaned back into the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. But it was the preoccupied look on his face that gave away his discomfort.

Violet immediately felt her guard go up when she saw them like that. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled involuntarily. “What's wrong?” she asked, closing the door behind her.

They looked at each other, an unspoken conversation passing between them, before her father stood up and crossed the room to where she stood. He reached out and squeezed her upper arms in a gesture that, coming from him, was meant to be reassuring.

Violet could feel the panic rising within her.

“What?” she wondered aloud, looking past her father to her mom, knowing that her mother had never been good at hiding things from her. Her mom was as incapable of disguising her thoughts and feelings as her dad was good at concealing his.

“Sit down, Vi. We need to talk,” her mom instructed, brushing past her husband and pulling her daughter toward the sofa.

Violet didn't fight her.
“What?”
she asked again. This time her voice felt like a hoarse whisper being ripped from her throat as she pled with them to tell her what this was all about.

Her mom spoke first. “It's Hailey McDonald…she's been missing since last night.” She sat next to her daughter and put her arm around her. “Her mom called Uncle Stephen in the middle of the night last night to say that Hailey never made it home. They've checked everywhere they could think of…at all of her friends' houses, the places where she was last seen…
and no one knows where she could be.”

Violet felt sick. Her hands started to shake in her lap, and the shuddering spasms moved up her arms and coursed through her body like electric currents.

Hailey McDonald was only in middle school, she was
maybe
thirteen, much younger than the other two girls whose bodies had already been discovered. And Violet knew Hailey, she used to babysit her when the younger girl was only in grade school. Hailey's older brother, Jacob McDonald, was a year younger than Violet at White River High School.

This was close.
Too close
.

“Do they think that…you know, do they suspect…” She took a breath to stop the quivering in her voice. “Do they think
he
took her?”

Her dad sat down on the other side of her. “Yes.” His voice sounded too calm to be saying something so horrendously unacceptable. “Stephen said she was supposed to be walking home from her best friend, Elena Atkins's, house, but that she never made it. Her parents waited for over an hour past the time she was due back before they started calling around, but by then it was probably too late.”

“Maybe she's just pissed at her parents and she's hiding out at another friend's house.” Violet tried to sound convincing even though she didn't believe a word of it herself. And then, because she couldn't think of anything else to say, she just covered her mouth with her own trembling hand. “Oh my God,” she whispered.