Two Can Keep a Secret (16 page)

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Authors: Karen M. McManus

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CHAPTER TWENTY

Malcolm

Monday, September 30

Brooke is still missing at lunchtime. And I’m getting a firsthand look at what my brother went through five years ago.

The entire Echo Ridge High student body has been staring at me all morning. Everybody’s whispering behind my back, except the few who get right in my face. Like Kyle McNulty. He and his sister, Liz, were away all weekend visiting her friends at the University of Vermont, so nobody’s interrogating
him.
Almost as soon as I walked into the hallway this morning, he grabbed my arm and slammed me against the locker bay. “If you did anything to Brooke, I will
end
you,” he growled.

I broke away and shoved him back. “Fuck you, McNulty.” He probably would’ve hit me then if a teacher hadn’t stepped between us.

Now Mia and I are headed for the cafeteria, passing a homecoming poster along the way. During morning announcements, Principal Slate said that while they hadn’t decided whether to cancel Saturday’s dance, it was being “significantly scaled back,” with no homecoming court. He ended with a reminder to report anything or anyone suspicious.

Which, for most of the student body, is me.

If I weren’t so sick to my stomach, I might laugh at how fiercely Mia glares at everyone we pass in the hallway. “Go ahead and try it,” she mutters, as a couple of Kyle’s teammates who are twice her size give me the once-over. “I hope you do.”

In the cafeteria we grab trays. I pile food on mine that I know I won’t be able to eat and then we make our way to our usual table. By unspoken agreement we both sit with our backs against the wall, facing the cafeteria. If anybody’s coming for me, I’d rather see them do it.

Mia sends a look of pure loathing toward Katrin’s table, where Viv is gesturing dramatically. “Already working on her next story, I’ll bet. This is exactly the plot twist she was waiting for.”

I force down a sip of water. “Jesus, Mia. They’re friends.”

“Stop thinking the best of people, Mal,” Mia says. “Nobody’s doing it for you. We should …” She trails off as the noise level in the cafeteria grows louder. The Corcoran twins have emerged from the food line, trays in hand. I haven’t talked to them yet today, and every time I’ve spotted one of them they were surrounded by knots of students. The whole school knows they were the second-to-last people to see Brooke alive, and everybody wants their take on Saturday night. I don’t have to be within earshot to know what kind of questions they’re getting:
Have you guys heard that Brooke and Malcolm were hooking up? Did they act weird around each other? Were they fighting?

Do you think he did something to her?

I could tell yesterday that Ezra is exactly like Mia: it never even occurred to him that I might’ve done anything except drop Brooke off. Ellery’s mind doesn’t work that way, though. She’s naturally suspicious. I get it, but … it stung. And even though it seemed like she came around eventually, I’m not sure it’s going to last when half the school is whispering in her ear.

Mia watches the two of them like she’s having the exact same thought. Ezra’s eyes light on us at almost the same time Katrin’s hand shoots into the air. “Ellery!” Katrin calls. “Over here!” She doesn’t include Ezra, and I feel pathetically grateful when he starts toward us. Even though I know it’s probably just because he wasn’t invited anywhere else.

Ellery hesitates, and it feels as though the entire cafeteria is watching her. Her curly hair is long and loose today, and when she looks toward Katrin it obscures half her face. My heart jackhammers in my chest as I try to tell myself it doesn’t matter what she does. It won’t change anything. Brooke will still be missing, and half the town will still hate me because I’m a Kelly.

Ellery lifts her hand and waves at Katrin, then turns away from her and follows Ezra to our table. I exhale for what feels like the first time all day, relieved, but the buzz in the cafeteria only gets louder. Ezra reaches us first, pulling out two chairs with a noisy scrape and lowering himself into one of them. “Hey,” he says quietly. Ellery puts her tray next to his and slips into the remaining chair, offering me a tentative smile.

Just like that, we’re all outsiders together.

It’s not right, it’s not okay.

That’s the part of what Brooke said in the Fright Farm office that sticks with me the most. With Ellery, too. “The one time I sat with her and Katrin at lunch, she looked worn down,” she says. “Something was definitely bothering her.”

We’re at Mia’s house after school, scattered around her living room. I’m keeping a constant eye on social media, hoping for some kind of positive update on Brooke, but all I see are posts about organizing a search. The police don’t want people doing anything on their own, so they’re recruiting volunteers for a coordinated effort.

None of the Kwons are home except Daisy, who’s holed up in her bedroom as usual. Thank God. I’d like to think Dr. and Mr. Kwon wouldn’t treat me any different from how they always have, but I’m not ready to find out.

“Maybe that’s why she was talking to Vance,” Mia says. She’s still seething that nobody took me seriously about that. “She could’ve been asking for help.”

Ezra looks dubious. “I don’t know. I’ve only met the guy once, but he didn’t strike me as the helpful type.”

“He was Sadie’s homecoming date,” Ellery says. “That means nothing, I guess, but … it’s weird how he keeps popping up, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I agree. “But he was locked up all night.”

“According to Officer McNulty,” Ellery says darkly.

I blink at her. “What, you—you think he was making that up?” At least she’s equal opportunity with her conspiracy theories.

“I don’t think the Echo Ridge police are very competent, do you?,” she asks. “Somebody basically drew them a map that was all,
hey, hello, here’s my next victim.
And she disappeared anyway.”

She half swallows the last word, hunching down in the Kwons’ oversized leather armchair. I blink, surprised at how lost she suddenly looks, and then I could kick myself for being so caught up in my own problems that I didn’t make the connection sooner. “You’re scared,” I say, because
of
course
she is. She was on that list too.

Ezra leans forward on the couch. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, El,” he says. Like he can make it true through sheer force of will. Mia nods vigorously beside him.

“No, I know.” Ellery hugs her knees to her chest and rests her chin on them. “That’s not how this works, right? It’s always one girl. There’s no point in worrying about me right now, or Katrin. Just Brooke.”

There’s no way in hell I’m going to remind her that we have no clue how any of this works. “We can worry about all of you. But it’ll be all right, Ellery. We’ll make sure of it.” It’s the worst reassurance ever, coming from the last guy to see Brooke before she disappeared. But it’s all I’ve got.

Light footsteps sound on the stairs, and Daisy appears on the landing. She’s wearing giant sunglasses and an oversized sweater, clutching her bag like a shield. “I’m going out for a little while,” she says, heading for the Kwons’ front door and pulling a jacket off their coatrack. She moves so quickly, she looks as though she’s gliding across the floor.

“’Kay,” Mia says, scrolling through her phone like she’s barely listening. But as soon as the door closes behind Daisy, Mia’s head snaps up. “Let’s follow her,” she says in a loud whisper, springing to her feet.

Ezra and Ellery lift their brows in almost comical unison. “We already know where she goes,” I object, my face getting hot as the twins exchange surprised glances. Great. Nothing like outing yourself as a stalker in front of your only friends.

“But we don’t know why,” Mia says, peering through the blinds of the window next to the door. “Daisy’s seeing a psychologist and she never told me,” she adds over her shoulder to the twins. “It’s all very mysterious and I, for one, am sick of mysteries around here. At least we can do something about this one if we’re quick enough. Okay, she just pulled out. Let’s go.”

“Mia, this is ridiculous,” I protest, but to my surprise Ellery’s already halfway to the door, with Ezra right behind her. Neither of them seems concerned about the fact that Mia’s spying on her own sister with my help. So we pile into my mother’s Volvo, and head down the same road Daisy took last Thursday. We catch up to her pretty quickly, and keep a few car lengths behind her.

“Don’t lose her,” Mia says, her eyes on the road. “We need answers.”

“What are you going to do? Try to listen in on her session?” Ezra sounds both confused and disturbed. I’m with him; even if that wasn’t a massive violation of Daisy’s privacy and probably illegal, I don’t see how you could do it.

“I don’t know,” Mia says with a shrug. Typical Mia: all action, no planning. “She’s going twice in one week. That seems like a lot, doesn’t it?”

“Beats me,” I say, getting into the left lane in preparation for a turn that Daisy should be making at the next intersection. Except she doesn’t. I swerve to stay straight and the car behind me blares its horn as I run a yellow light.

“Smooth,” Ezra notes. “This is going well. Very stealthy.”

Mia frowns. “
Now
where’s she going?”

“Gym?” I guess, starting to feel foolish. “Shopping?”

But Daisy doesn’t head downtown, or toward the highway that would take us to the nearest mall. She sticks to back roads until we pass Bukowski’s Tavern and enter Solsbury, the next town over. The houses are smaller and closer together here than they are in Echo Ridge, and the lawns look like they get mowed a lot less. Daisy’s blinker comes on after we pass a liquor store, and she turns in front of a sign that reads “Pine Crest Estates.”

That’s an optimistic name,
I think. It’s an apartment complex, full of the kind of cheap, boxy places you can’t find in Echo Ridge but that are all over Solsbury. Mom and I checked out someplace similar right before she and Peter got together. If they hadn’t, we weren’t going to be able to hang on to our house for much longer. Even if it
was
the smallest, crappiest house in all of Echo Ridge.

“Is she moving out?” Mia wonders. Daisy inches through the parking lot, angling the gray Nissan in front of number 9. There’s a blue car to her right, and I pull into an empty spot next to that. We all scrunch down in our seats as she gets out of the car, like that’ll keep us incognito. All Daisy would have to do is turn her head to catch sight of my mother’s Volvo. But she doesn’t look around as she gets out, just strides forward and knocks on the door.

Once, twice, and then a third time.

Daisy pulls off her sunglasses, stuffs them into her bag, and knocks again. “Maybe we should leave before she gives up. I don’t think they’re ho—” I start, but then the door to number 9 opens. Somebody wraps his arms around Daisy and swings her halfway around, kissing her so deeply that Mia lets out a gasp beside me.

“Oh my God, Daisy has a boyfriend,” she says, scrambling out of her seat belt and leaning so far left that she’s practically in my lap. “And here she’s been so Mopey McMoperson since she moved home! I did
not
see that coming.” We’re all craning our necks for a better view, but it’s not until Daisy breaks away that I catch sight of whom she’s with—along with something I haven’t seen in years.

My brother grinning like his face is about to break, before he pulls Daisy inside and shuts the door behind her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Ellery

Monday, September 30

“So,” Malcolm says, plugging tokens into one end of a foosball table. “That was interesting.”

After leaving Declan’s apartment, we stopped at the first place we came to that we were pretty sure he and Daisy wouldn’t show up on a date. It happened to be a Chuck E. Cheese’s. I haven’t been to one in years, so I’ve forgotten what a sensory assault they are: flashing lights, beeping games, tinny music, and screaming children.

The guy letting people in at the door wasn’t sure about us at first. “You’re supposed to come with kids,” he said, glancing behind us at the empty hallway.

“We
are
kids,” Mia pointed out, holding out her hand for a stamp.

Turns out, Chuck E. Cheese’s is the perfect location for a clandestine debrief. Every adult in the place is too busy either chasing after or hiding from their children to pay us any attention. I feel weirdly calm after our trip to Pine Crest Estates, the dread that came over me at Mia’s house almost entirely gone. There’s something satisfying about unlocking another piece of the Echo Ridge puzzle, even if I’m not yet sure where it fits.

“So,” Mia echoes, gripping a handle on the other end of the foosball table. Ezra is next to her, and I’m beside Malcolm. A ball pops out of one side, and Mia spins one of the bars furiously, missing the ball completely. “Your brother and my sister. How long do you think that’s been going on?”

Malcolm maneuvers one of his players carefully before smacking the ball, and would have scored if Ezra hadn’t blocked it. “Damned if I know. Since they both came back, maybe? But that still doesn’t explain what they’re doing here. Couldn’t they hook up in New Hampshire? Or Boston?” He passes the ball to one of his own men, then backward to me, and I rocket a shot across the field into the open goal. Malcolm gives me a surprised, disarmed grin that dissolves the tense set of his jaw. “Not bad.”

I want to smile back, but I can’t. There’s something I’ve been thinking ever since we pulled away from Pine Crest Estates, and I keep weighing how—or whether—to bring it up.

“I don’t think they can hook up
anywhere,
” Mia says. “Can you imagine if one of the reporters who’ve been prowling around Echo Ridge got wind of this? Lacey Kilduff’s boyfriend and best friend, together five years later? While somebody’s making a mockery of her death by writing bullshit all around town and another girl’s just gone missing?” She shudders, managing to nick the ball with the edge of one of her men. “People would
hate
them.”

“What if it’s not five years later?” The words pop out of me, and Malcolm goes still. The foosball rolls unchallenged down the length of the table and settles into a corner. “I mean,” I add, almost apologetically, “they might’ve been together for a while.”

Mia shakes her head. “Daisy’s had other boyfriends. She almost got engaged to the guy she was dating at Princeton. And she went to the Bahamas with a guy in her office. My parents practically had a coronary over
that.

“Okay, so not all five years,” I say. “But maybe … at some point in high school?”

Malcolm’s jaw has gone tense again. He braces his forearms on the table and fastens his green eyes on me. Both are disconcerting at close range, if I’m being honest. “Like when?”

Like while Declan was still dating Lacey. It’d be the classic deadly love triangle.
I have to bite the inside of my cheeks to keep from saying it out loud What if Declan and Daisy fell in love years ago and wanted to be together, but Lacey wouldn’t let him go? Or threatened to do something to Daisy in retaliation? And it infuriated Declan so much that he lost control one night and killed her? Then Daisy broke things off with him, obviously, and tried to forget him, but couldn’t. I’m itching to expand on my theory, but one look at Malcolm’s frozen face tells me I shouldn’t. “I don’t know,” I hedge, dropping my eyes. “Just throwing out ideas.”

It’s like I told Ezra in the library: You can’t spring a
your-siblings-might-be-murderers
theory onto people all at once.

Mia doesn’t notice the subtext of my back-and-forth with Malcolm. She’s too busy savagely jerking her rod of blue players without ever touching the ball. “It wouldn’t be an issue if Daisy would just
talk
to me. Or to anyone in our family.”

“Maybe you need to pull a little-sister power play,” Ezra suggests.

“Such as?”

He shrugs. “She tells you what’s going on, or you tell your parents what you just saw.”

Mia goggles at him. “That’s straight-up
evil.

“But effective, I’ll bet,” Ezra says. He glances at Malcolm. “I’d suggest the same thing to you, but I just saw your brother, so.”

“Oh yeah.” Malcolm grimaces. “He’d kill me. Not literally,” he adds hastily, with a sideways glance at me. “But also, he knows I’d never do it. Our father wouldn’t care, but our mom would lose it. Especially now.”

Mia’s eyes gleam as she lines one of her men up for a shot. “I have no such concerns.”

We play for a few minutes without speaking. My mind keeps racing along the Declan-Daisy theory that I didn’t say, testing it for holes. There are a few, admittedly. But it’s such a true-crime staple when girls go missing or are harmed:
it’s always the boyfriend.
Or a frustrated wannabe. Because when you’re seventeen, and beautiful, and you’re found murdered in a place known for hookups, what could it possibly be except a crime of passion?

So that leaves Declan. The only other person I’m even remotely suspicious of is the guy Lacey never noticed—Officer Ryan Rodriguez. I can’t forget his photo in the yearbook, or Sadie’s description of him breaking down at Lacey’s funeral. Still, Officer Rodriguez doesn’t
fit
like Declan does—he makes perfect sense, especially now that we know about him and Daisy.

I don’t believe for one second that they’re a new thing. The only question in my mind is whether Malcolm’s willing to admit it.

I steal a glance at Malcolm as he twists his handles, fully concentrating on the game. Brow furrowed, green eyes crinkling when he makes a good shot, lean arms flexing. He has absolutely no idea how attractive he is, and it’s kind of a problem. He’s so used to living in his brother’s shadow that he doesn’t believe he’s the kind of guy who could’ve snagged the attention of a girl like Brooke. Anybody else can see it from a mile away.

He looks up and meets my eyes.
Busted.
I feel myself go red as his mouth lifts in a half smile. Then he glances down again, pulling his phone from his pocket and unlocking the screen. His face changes in an instant. Mia sees it too and stops spinning her handles. “Any news?” she asks.

“A text from my mom. Nothing about Brooke,” Malcolm says, and we all relax. Because from the look on his face, it wouldn’t have been good. “Except there’s a search party tomorrow. During the day, so Echo Ridge students aren’t supposed to go. And there’s an article in the
Boston Globe.
” He sighs heavily. “My mom’s freaking out. She gets traumatized any time the news mentions Lacey.”

“Can I see?” I ask. He hands the phone to me, and I read the section framed within the screen:

The small town was already on edge after a series of vandalism incidents beginning in early September. Buildings and signs were defaced with messages written as though they were from Lacey Kilduff’s killer. The anonymous threats promised another attack on one of the girls elected to homecoming court—a short list that included Brooke Bennett. But those who’ve been following the story closely don’t see any real connection.

“Even if someone was unhinged enough to get away with murder and brag about it five years later, the MO’s are completely different,” says Vivian Cantrell, a senior at Echo Ridge High who has covered the story for her school paper. “Strangulation is a brutal crime of passion. The threats are public, and they require planning. I don’t think there’s any relation at all to what happened to Lacey, or what’s going on with Brooke.”

I grip the phone more tightly. That’s almost exactly what I said two weeks ago at lunch. Viv basically stole my entire spiel and used it to replace her original point of view. Before this, she’d been telling everybody that Lacey’s death and the anonymous threats
had
to be related.

Why did Viv suddenly change her tune?

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