The Sound (30 page)

I watch Jesse absorb what I’ve just said then shake his head in confusion. ‘What?’ he asks, his hands falling to his sides.

‘I have a plan,’ I say quickly, my hands gripping his arms. ‘That’s why I was trying to find you all day. I wanted to tell you. I think I have a way to stop Tyler . . .
and to stop
you
from having to go to prison again.’

He frowns at me, suspicious all of a sudden. I’m keenly aware that his hands are still hanging by his sides and not reaching for my waist.

‘There’s a book,’ I grimace, feeling a stab of shame and embarrassment when I remember what the book contains. ‘If I can get hold of it then we have proof about what
Tyler did to Hannah.’

He steps backwards. ‘What good would that do?’ he asks. ‘She’d still have to testify in court.’ He’s angry and frustrated and I feel a little part of me
crumble on the inside.

‘What if I could get a confession too?’ I ask, suddenly feeling desperate. I need this idea to work. I can’t leave Jesse tomorrow knowing that he’s still going to go
after Tyler. ‘Then Hannah wouldn’t need to testify,’ I say. ‘He’d have to plead guilty.’

Jesse has paused now, his eyes are narrowed. ‘How would you get a confession?’ he asks.

‘I have an idea.’

‘An idea that requires you to confront Tyler on your own?’ That sceptical look again, accompanied now by a pulsing jawline.

I swallow. ‘Yes.’

‘If anyone is going to confront him it’s going to be me,’ Jesse says through clenched teeth and I know exactly how that confrontation will end.

‘No,’ I say. ‘You can’t go near him, remember? And also,’ I add quickly, ‘your record for self-control around him isn’t exactly great. You’ll
probably punch him to get a confession and that won’t count in a court of law. That’s called a forced confession. It’s inadmissible.’

He looks at me like I’m speaking Dutch.

I shrug. ‘I watch a lot of crime shows with my mum.’

Jesse shakes his head, pained, and asks ever so softly, ‘Why would you do that?’

‘She’s lonely. She likes company.’

He frowns at me. ‘No. Why would you do
this
?’

Oh. I take a step towards him and reach for his hands. They’re so warm and familiar already but this time they feel different – I link my fingers through his and when I look up at
him I see that he feels as connected to me as I do to him. ‘Because I have about twelve hours left to save you,’ I say. ‘And to stop Tyler Reed from ever hurting anyone again.
It’s not just Hannah he’s done this to.’

Something in Jesse’s expression shifts, like he’s struggling against all sorts of internal demons and with the truth of what I’m saying.

‘And besides,’ I add, ‘you can’t just kiss me like that and then expect me to stand back and wave you off to prison. That’s not happening.’

I see the grin start to form. He reaches for me and pulls me to him in one swift move. I fall against his chest and he kisses me for a second time. When he pulls away, still holding me close,
we’re both short of breath. Actually, panting would be a more accurate description.

‘Promise me that you’ll come back?’ he whispers.

‘Only on the condition,’ I say, ‘that you promise me that you won’t do something stupid, even if this doesn’t work out. I am not coming to visit you if you’re
going to be behind bars wearing orange overalls.’

He doesn’t smile. Instead he takes a deep breath in. His body tenses. I give him my widest-eyed pleading look, leaning in closer so I’m just millimetres from his lips. I see his eyes
dart to my mouth. He breathes out slowly. I can see the desire locked in his eyes.

‘All day out on the water you were all I could think about,’ he says quickly, his voice low and uneven, ‘I just kept hearing what you said to me last night . . . about what
would happen to my family if I went back to prison, about Hannah.’ He breaks off and a dark look crosses his face, the pain buried in his eyes surfacing. ‘I want to fix it so badly. I
see what Tyler’s done to my sister and now what he’s done to the store, to my dad’s livelihood, and I want to kill him.’ His whole body is trembling and I take his hands and
squeeze them, trying to calm him down. ‘I hate him,’ he spits, ‘I hate him for what he’s done to my family.’

‘I know,’ I whisper, resting my forehead against his shoulder. ‘I know. But we can fix things. We can. I promise. Right now I hate him almost as much as you. I promise
he’s not going to get away with any of this.’

After a minute I feel his body start to relax. ‘I was right,’ he finally murmurs, his lips against my hair. ‘I knew that if I fell for you you’d make me change my mind.
Damn it.’

I look up at him smiling. ‘You can thank me later.’

‘Oh believe me,’ he says, in a voice that sends sparks to all outlying parts of my body, ‘I will.’

Our third kiss, during which I discover Jesse’s stomach is as hard as it looks and very, very groan-inducing, is interrupted by Carrie.

‘Ren?’ she asks, peering out into the darkness. I turn. I hadn’t heard her. ‘What are you doing out—’ she stops abruptly when she sees I’m attached to
Jesse in rather a gratuitous way.

Carrie looks at me questioningly and I smile and step away from Jesse, keeping hold of his hand.

‘Hi, Jesse,’ she says, smiling at him, and I feel an overwhelming urge to hug her.

‘Hi, Mrs Tripp,’ he answers, running a hand through his hair and throwing her one of his charmingly flirtatious and wholly irresistible smiles.

‘Are you both going to come in?’ she asks.

I glance at her. ‘Actually I think I’m going to hang out with Jesse for a while. Do you mind?’ I ask.

She looks between us. ‘OK,’ she says finally and I know that in her head she’s thinking,
What the hell happened to Jeremy Thorne?
And I probably look like a total
Class A skanktron. But to her credit she says nothing except, ‘Bring her back by eleven, please,’ while looking pointedly at Jesse. ‘We want to know she’s safely home given
the situation. And she has to be up early for her flight tomorrow.’

‘No problem,’ he answers, and his hand squeezes mine.

We don’t let go of each other until Jesse opens the door of the truck to let me in. And he takes my hand again across the gear stick as soon as he starts driving.

‘You can’t go in there on your own,’ Jesse says as we tear along the Polpis Road towards Tyler’s house.

‘I know what I’m doing. Stop arguing with me.’

He is hunching over the steering wheel. ‘OK, here’s the deal,’ he says. ‘I’ll sit outside in the car. But if you’re not out of there in five minutes,
I’m coming in.’

I nod because there’s just no point in trying to debate this one and also I’m quite glad to have extra backup in the form of someone who actually knows how to land a punch. ‘Do
you have an iPod or an iPhone on you?’ I ask, checking my watch.

He nods, shifting in his seat to pull it out of the back pocket of his jeans. I turn it on and check it has the app I need. It does.

A few minutes later we draw level with Tyler’s house. Jesse parks down the street in the shadowy dips between street lights. A white Honda is parked in front of us.

‘Wait here,’ I tell Jesse, climbing out of the cab of the truck. I walk to the white Honda. The engine is running and the window is down. The passenger door springs open and I climb
in.

Paige is sitting with both hands on the wheel. She looks even paler than normal. Her dark hair is tied in a knot at the nape of her neck. I messaged her this evening and asked her to meet me
here. I only gave her vague details and so the first thing out of her mouth is not
Hello
but, ‘Are you sure? This book really exists?’

I nod. ‘Yes. I’m sure.’

‘And you think it contains proof we can use against him?’

I pull a face. ‘Yes. But, we need a confession too.’

She leans back in her seat. ‘A confession?’

I nod.

‘How are you planning on getting that?’

‘I’m not,’ I tell her. ‘You are.’ I hand her the iPod. ‘It has a record function,’ I explain.

She stares at me for a few seconds but then she nods and with a shaking hand takes it.

‘She thought he liked her,’ she says, a trace of bitterness in her voice. ‘He completely fools them. They’re kids, only fourteen, they think he’s this gorgeous,
charming older boy who’s really into them until it’s too late and he’s forcing them.’ She breaks off with a shudder, gritting her teeth. Her fists are on top of the wheel,
shaking. ‘And then they’re too scared to say anything because it’s his word against theirs and didn’t they ask for it? I mean, that’s what he makes them think –
that they won’t be believed!’

‘Why didn’t you tell your parents?’ I ask, trying to understand, not accuse.

She shrugs and her voice breaks when she says, ‘I thought I could handle him on my own.’

‘If we have evidence then will Lola be OK with it becoming public?’ I ask. I need to know. Because we can’t rely on Hannah.

Paige looks at me then. Her eyes are bright. ‘Yes. She hates him. She wants to see him locked up.’ She pauses. ‘He only kissed her, but he bruised her up a bit and he tried . .
.’ She grimaces. ‘He didn’t get what he wanted. Not like with Hannah Miller.’

I can’t hide my surprise. ‘You know about that?’

She nods to herself, gives me a faint shrug. ‘I guessed. I’m right, aren’t I? That’s why Jesse tried to kill Tyler last summer, isn’t it? Why Hannah isn’t
around this summer? It all added up as soon as I saw Tyler with Lola.’

I can only nod. ‘And Parker?’ I ask. ‘That time I saw you arguing on the beach, what was that about?’

‘I was warning him away from Lola. I couldn’t believe he was making a pass at her.’ She shakes her head in disgust. ‘I can’t believe I ever dated him.’ She
flicks me a sideways glance. ‘You know he was bragging on Facebook about vandalising the Millers’ bike store?’

My mouth drops open.

‘Yeah,’ she nods, ‘he
is
that stupid.’

I am kind of glad that he is. That should be enough evidence for the police to arrest him on.

Suddenly Paige takes a deep breath. ‘OK, let’s do this thing,’ she says. ‘I’ll distract Tyler. Keep him downstairs and get this confession.’ Her dark eyes
flash. ‘Tyler’s bedroom is on the second floor, first door on the right. You find the book. Then we both get out of there.’

‘OK,’ I say, suddenly wondering what the hell I’m doing. I am not a Charlie’s Angel.

But then Paige hugs me. ‘Thanks for doing this, Ren,’ she whispers. ‘I didn’t know what I was going to do on my own.’

Before I step out of the car I turn to her one last time. ‘You don’t think he’s the one killing these nannies, do you?’ I ask, hoping so much she’s going to laugh
at me.

But Paige doesn’t laugh. Instead she says, ‘I wondered the same thing. But the night that girl was attacked on Dionis he was with Summer. She told me
all
about
it.’

I frown. I’m not sure if this makes me feel better or worse. I decide better. Because I don’t fancy going head to head with a nanny killer. Not without more backup than a can of
mace.

Ten minutes later I am crouching behind a rose bush by the steps up to Tyler’s front door which Paige has, as promised, left ajar. I can hear her voice on the other side of the door and I
creep forwards. I peek through the gap and see the back of Tyler’s head. He and Paige are in the living room, right in front of the door. Paige is facing me. She sees me and for a split
second she freezes mid-sentence but then she turns back to Tyler and starts screaming at him – I don’t hear the words – only Lola’s name and several swear words. She’s
creating a cover for me so I push the door and tiptoe as fast as I can towards the stairs, holding my breath. My hand is on the banister and then I’m up the stairs and at the top on the
landing, counting down the doors towards Tyler’s bedroom. Paige is still yelling below so I’m guessing that the cover worked.

It’s immaculate inside Tyler’s room. The bed is made, there are no clothes hanging on the back of chairs. It’s army cadet neat. I dash towards the bedside table and yank open
the drawer. Inside there’s a copy of Machiavelli’s
The Prince
, just as Noelle Reed told Brodie there would be (though she relayed it to me as The Magic Valley Prince). I reach
for it, my fingers trembling, and pull it out.

The cover is frayed and loose and when I open it up I see that it’s been fitted over a notebook. I flip to the first page. Someone has scored two lines down the page, breaking it into
three columns and at the head of each column is written a name: Jeremy, Parker, Tyler.

Parker’s column is practically empty but I see my name, amongst five others, printed in Jeremy’s column. Next to my name is the number three. My body goes cold. They actually award
points by the number of bases scored. I grit my teeth, feeling the blood rushing to my face. I’m not sure which is worse – the number, or the fact that there are two names beneath mine
– Summer being one of them (three) – and the realisation that Jeremy must have been hooking up with them all those times that he told me he was studying. I think for one awful moment
that I’m going to throw up right there on top of Tyler’s pristine sheets.

I glance across at Tyler’s column, my eyes struggling to focus. Summer’s name is there too, with a number four scratched beside it. Eliza’s is above it – but he only made
it to first with her, probably when she was drunk. And there, above Eliza’s name, is Paige’s sister, Lola, with a number one beside her name too.

I flick the pages back and find the scorecard from last year. Because that’s what it is – a scorecard. They tally the number of bases achieved and seem to be awarding extra points
for hotness (I’ve scored an eight and a half on that one) and foreignness (I get a bonus award of two for being English). There’s a part of me that feels momentarily pleased before I
vanquish it in a fit of disgust.

Last year, in Tyler’s column, I see Paige and Summer’s names scribbled down and twelve other names including Hannah Miller’s. Beside her name there’s a number four,
followed by an exclamation mark. There are several exclamation marks, in fact, which I can only assume is code for something.