They All Fall Down (25 page)

“Wait,” I say, freezing in place. “Josh is leaving.” I do not want to be alone in that house with this man. Every instinct of mine is blazing with that certainty.

He smiles, but his patience is obviously wearing thin. “Just wait here, Kenzie. I’ll get the papers.”

He jogs up the stone steps and leaves the door wide open while he disappears into the house. Maybe I
am
overreacting. I stand for a minute alone, feeling super awkward.

Out of habit, I pull my phone out of my pocket to check for texts and realize that I’ve totally broken the promise I made to Levi. I press his last text and quickly thumb a response.

Not with the group going into woods yet. Still at house.
G-father getting me something. Alone right now.

Then I stare at the phone after I hit Send and will him to reply, which he does, almost instantly.

Is the garage door open?
See if there are any *trucks* in there.

Good thinking, Levi. I type back a quick
K
and walk toward the driveway again. There are five double garage doors and the one at the far end has been left open. With a quick glance over my shoulder, I jog across the driveway to peek into the garage. It’s dark, so I click the flashlight app on my phone and shine the beam on an empty bay, the walls just rows of closed cabinets, the whole place impeccably clean. I take one step deeper into the garage and look down the row, past Josh’s Audi, a small sports car, and a big white SUV.

No black truck in here.

All of a sudden, I’m blinded. A light so bright it actually hurts shines directly into my eyes, making me throw my arms over my face and back away, my heart exploding with hot, holy terror.

“Looking for someone?”

I suck in a loud breath at the low, menacing voice coming from deep inside the garage. The light is relentless, an assault of white that makes me turn and stumble toward the open door.

“Kenzie!” It’s Rex, calling from the front porch. “Where did you go?”

I open my mouth but nothing comes out. I spin away from the light, but I still can’t see anything else, even when I close my eyes.

“Kenzie!”

“I’m here,” I call, the older man suddenly a safety net instead of a threat. “By the garage.” I run a few feet across the
driveway, chancing a glance back at the open garage bay. Everything is dark.

At least, I think it is. My eyes are wrecked. Squeezing them open and closed, I frantically try to clear my vision, and little by little, I can see again.

“I thought you ran away,” Rex says, a chuckle in his voice as he meets me halfway along the walkway.

“I just … went to …” Finally, I can see him. Looking quite kindly and old, his face more lined than I recalled, his shoulders ever so slightly slumped.

He isn’t scary, this old man. What’s scary was in the garage.

“Mr. Collier,” I say, breathless. “There’s someone in your garage.”

He lifts both brows. “One of Josh’s friends?”

“No.” Was it? “I don’t think so. Someone older.” That voice was no teenager’s. It was low, booming, demanding. Terrifying. “Maybe an … intruder?”

He draws up his chest in a deep breath, the dark brows furrowing. “Then we better kill him.”

My eyes pop.

“Come on, Kenzie.” He puts his hand on my shoulder again. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

I stand stone still, shocked. “I’ll wait here while you check.”

“And miss this?” He reaches behind his back with his right hand, holding my gaze for a second, then suddenly whips out a shiny knife that glints in the light.

I draw back. “Oh my God.”

He angles it so I can see the deadly point. “She’s a beauty, huh?”

“She’s …” Got a carved white handle and a tiny gold ring on the end. I’ve seen that knife before, but where? “Sharp.”

In the underground museum! It was on the wall with the other weapons. I saw it, I know I did. “Why don’t we just call the police?” I suggest.

“Oh, child, what am I going to do with you?” He has papers in his other hand, which he uses to gesture me forward. “Let’s go.”

“He has a really bright light and he’ll shine it on your face,” I warn.

His laugh is the condescending chuckle a wise adult would give to a naïve little kid. “A bright light, huh? Well, we can beat him at his own game.”

Getting ahead of me, he reaches the open garage and walks in fearlessly. Staying a few feet behind him, I realize my hands are both pressed to my mouth, stifling a scream I know is going to come out. What can he do with a knife in the—

Light floods everything. The driveway, the garage, the whole world seems lit up by a million watts.

“He can’t blind me now,” Rex says with a chuckle.

He must have hit a switch that turned everything on, inside and out. Dozens of spotlights pour light all over the lawns and highlight the trees; the whole house is as bright as if it were noon.

Only a little less terrified, I walk closer to the open garage, but just as I do, all the other garage doors start rumbling up in unison. I turn to the cars, feeling completely exposed, fully expecting to see … someone. Someone who just spoke to me.

But there’s no man, just Rex Collier marching up and down
the shiny gray flooring, around expensive cars, the massive garage lit up like a football stadium. There’s not a shadow or a place to hide.

“It’s deserted,” he says, leaning over to look in the sports car, then opening the doors of the SUV and leaving them that way for me to examine.

“Could he have … gotten away?” I ask.

At the only door into the house, Rex pauses and jiggles the knob. “Locked tight.” And there are no windows, and not a cabinet big enough for a man to hide in. “Look in the cars if you like.”

As if to underscore that, he pops the trunk on Josh’s Audi and peers in. “No one.”

I hear it in his voice, then: disbelief. Maybe a little amusement. Some condescension. “I think we’re safe, Kenzie.”

“How could he …?” Exasperation washes over me.

“Maybe it was your imagination?” he suggests.

The hot denial rises up, but I swallow it. He isn’t going to believe me. “Maybe,” I croak, stepping back into the driveway because, even with the lights on, I don’t want to be in that garage. He had to be in there somewhere. I didn’t imagine that light or that voice.

Instantly, it’s dark again. I take a second to adjust my eyes, blinking at the sound of footsteps. For a second I can’t see Rex, and I imagine someone else is coming toward me, but I recognize the size of his shadow as he approaches.

Only then do I realize he turned out
every
light. Even the tiny white lights that line the driveway and the dim coach lights on the side of the garage. The only glimmer of light is a slim, slim moon.

“Here you go,” he says, holding out a piece of paper. “This is what you need for the scholarship.”

I reach for the paper and as I do, I notice the ring on his finger, so close I can see it even in the dark. It’s as large as a sports championship ring, with a bright-red stone. As he angles his hand to give me the paper, I catch a glimpse of the carving in the stone, letters in a distinctive script.

NIHIL RELINQUERE

Just as I look up in shock, he backs away so I can’t see his face and turns from me.

“Mr. Collier?”

He keeps walking into the darkness of the garage.

“Mr. Collier!”

Very slowly he turns around, just as my eyes are adjusting and my vision is clear. And I see his face, the sight stealing my breath and my sanity. That’s not Rex Collier—this man is much, much younger. He looks like Rex and he looks like Josh, but …

“You’ll want to read that paperwork carefully, Kenzie,” he says.

I stare at him, speechless.

“All you have to do is follow the rules and finish the course.”

I try to speak but all that comes out is a croak. How is this possible? How can I be standing here talking to Jarvis Collier? He’s dead!

“They’re all wrong, you know.”

I just try to breathe. “Who?” I manage to ask.

“The people who say you don’t look like Conner. You have exactly the same expression when you’re in shock.”

I inch back, my legs wobbling.
Conner?

“Of course, he talked quite a bit more than you. Right up to the very end.”

For a moment, I actually feel like I’m slipping sideways, like the whole world has tilted and everything I’m standing on is falling away.

“They’re waiting for you in the woods, Kenzie.” He turns and disappears into the shadows.

CHAPTER XXV

W
ind sings in my ears as I tear into the inky blackness of the forest, forcing my legs to move as fast as they can. I can’t think yet. I can’t absorb or understand what I just saw—or heard—until I’m somewhere safe.

I need Levi.

That realization spurs me on. I ignore the scrape of pine needles on my cheeks and the sharp pain in my ankle when I trip on a rock and manage to right myself without falling. I slow down only to steal one look over my shoulder at the house, now as dark as the rest of the night.

Did he follow me?

What just happened? Did I talk to a ghost? No, I’m not Shannon. I don’t believe in ghosts or curses. That man was alive and that man was … Jarvis Collier.

Who died at sea years ago … but
talked to my brother
.

Or was that just some kind of joke? Some test of my will? Some …

Right up to the very end
.

Fear wraps around me like icy arms. I don’t see any movement in the shadows, no man—or ghost or zombie or whatever that was—chasing me.

Oh my God, what if Conner’s death wasn’t an accident? And it wasn’t my fault?

I trip again and stumble as I run deeper into the woods, blinking as my vision adjusts to the lack of light. The clouds are heavy now, blocking even the pinpoints of stars, so there’s not a chance of me navigating my way out of here if I get lost.

I need Levi
.

I remember my lifeline again, slowing my steps long enough to dig into my pocket for my—

Shit! It’s gone. My phone is not in either pocket! I stop completely now, frantically sticking my hands into my jacket, slapping my jeans, my hopes draining. My phone is gone.

How will I reach him?

I spin around, hearing the crack of a branch … somewhere. I don’t know where. It’s too dark to get my bearings. I know enough to nestle deeper against a tree trunk and stand very, very still until I can figure out what to do next.

Who was that man?

Of course, I know who it was, but I can’t accept it. I don’t believe in ghosts any more than I believe in curses, but I know Jarvis is dead. Or is he?

They never found his body
.

I shake my head, forcing anything out that won’t help me strategize how to escape and be safe. I listen to the sounds of nature, suddenly all so threatening.

Is that a possum wandering about … or a killer on my heels?

Is that the hum of crickets and cicadas … or the catch of a gun safety?

Is that the breeze fluttering the leaves … or the steady breathing of someone taking aim?

I can barely hear against the hammering blood in my head, but I try anyway. I can’t see anything; all I have is my sense of hearing.

And smell. I sniff, turning toward a sudden strong and acrid scent that I know. It smells like the field behind school or a car in the back of the junior lot. It smells like pot.

Hallelujah, I found them. I follow my nose toward the pungent scent, working my way more slowly now through the trees. I try to swallow against my bone-dry throat and it makes me want to cough, so I cover my mouth and just let my eyes sting until it passes.

The first low strain of voices reaches my ears, barely audible. They’re whispering. A laugh, then the
shush
of someone hushing them.

Silence for a while, and the pot smell is dissipating, so I move more slowly, hugging some oaks, still looking over my shoulder in case Jarvis Collier makes an appearance.

I hear that laugh again. Dena. I gather up a breath to make a run toward the sound just as I hear something behind me, definitely alive, definitely human. My whole being tenses, waiting for the
whoosh
of a knife, the crack of a gun, the end of my life.

Nothing.

I tiptoe forward, listening for the threat but waiting for Dena’s laugh. Or just a whiff of pot to guide me in the right direction. I get both and I know I have them, but then I hear
another voice, coming from my far left, a completely different direction.

Female laughter on my right, male voices on my left.

If they’ve separated for some reason, I want to be with the girls. Can I tell them who I saw … what he said? Shannon will go full tilt with her ghost theory.

I hear a voice, deep and authoritative, about a hundred feet away. I can’t make out the words, but I instantly recognize Josh’s tenor and inflection. Okay, not Levi, but at this point, phoneless and desperate, Josh is my only hope for safety.

Should I tell him about … his father?

I take a few more tentative steps, cringing when I crack a small branch underfoot. I freeze for a second, waiting; then I move toward his voice.

“… that little prick is our only hope.”

I stop dead and listen. What did he just say?

“They’re working on it,” someone else says. “He’s been paid, lured, and followed. We’ll get him soon enough.”

What the heck is he talking about?

At least two other voices reply in low rumbles I can’t catch. I hear what sounds like Tyler with his baritone,
dude
-peppered language. I’m still walking very slowly, only slightly less concerned about the threat behind me, but fully intrigued by this conversation.

“So it’s decided.” I don’t recognize that voice, but then I didn’t recognize some of the guys who were in the driveway. “I have the car covered,” someone else says.

“I have the note in place.” Yet another voice.

“All we have to do is make sure he’s arrested as a murderer for any one of these accidents, and they’ll stop.”