Winter (Four Seasons #1) (30 page)

“
Not sure yet.
A video was handed into the station in Breakwater. It’s big, Avery.
It looks like there was someone else there with your dad and the
others the day he died.”

“
A
video?
”

Luke nods and
for a moment he looks like he’s going to smile again. “Yeah. They
won’t tell me what’s on it yet, but they did say there was a fifth
person.”

“
Someone
else?” The ground rocks beneath me. There was someone else there in
that warehouse the day my dad died? Another person, a person who is
still alive? Four bodies. They’d carried four bodies out of that
place, and now Luke is telling me someone else witnessed what
happened. My mouth works, trying to find something to say, but I
remain mute.

“
I know this
is a lot to take in.” Luke steps forward and I am torn in half.
What I really want to do is turn and run indoors so I can lock
myself in my room and pace the floor, trying to figure out what
this means. I clench my fists in my gloves instead, knowing the
only way I’ll find out anything is if I concentrate and kept calm.
“Tell me everything.”

“
It’s
freezing, Avery. D’you wanna sit in the car?” I eye the Fastback
and then nod. We get in and he starts talking; he seems excited,
his eyes quick and dangerously bright. I don’t know if that’s from
the gig he just performed, or if this new information really is
big. “Chloe, my ex partner? She called me earlier. She told me an
anonymous caller informed the duty officer of a package outside the
station in Breakwater. They thought it was a parcel bomb at first.
After they decided it wasn’t going to explode, they opened it.
That’s when the fun and games started. The FBI have seized the tape
for their private investigation.”

“
The
FBI
?”

“
Yeah, they’re
looking into Bright’s accusations against your dad.”

Fantastic
news. The feds didn’t bother with the case the first time around,
probably because it looked so cut and dried. Throw the deaths of
fifteen teenaged girls in the mix and suddenly there are G-men all
over the place. “And what are the suits saying?”

Luke places
his hands on the steering wheel, grinning. “Nothing.”

“
Nothing?” Why
does he look so damned happy if nothing is being said? It makes no
sense. He reaches out and takes my hand, squeezing it
hard.

“
That’s the
best outcome right now. It means they’re actually investigating the
possibility that someone else might be responsible, Avery. Think
about it. If there was someone else there and they were an innocent
party, why the hell wouldn’t they come to the police once they’d
escaped? If it had been someone your dad had kidnapped and was
going to kill like Adam and the others, why wouldn’t that person
report it immediately?”

“
Well, they
would have,” I say slowly.

“
Exactly. So
it stands to reason that if there was someone else there, they
could have been responsible for the whole thing. It’s not easy to
force someone to shoot themselves in the head. Your dad’s gunshot
wound was to the throat—a complete mess. It could easily have been
the result of him fighting as an assailant tried to pull the
trigger.”

My head is
swimming, and Luke’s rushed words aren’t making it any better. “But
the pathologist said suicides often turn out that way when people
attempt to shoot themselves. They hesitate.”

“
That does
happen, sure. But imagine just for a second…what if it’s true? This
could clear your dad of everything. The killings in the warehouse,
the murders of those girls. It could all be over.”

My hand is
shaking in Luke’s, and I’m having trouble seeing. It’s only when a
hot streak runs down my cheek that I realize I am crying. “I can’t
imagine something like that, Luke. It’s too dangerous. We have no
idea what’s on that tape. It could come to nothing.”

His energy
seems to flag a little when I pull my hand out of his. “I know. I
guess I just like choosing to believe in the best
outcome.”

“
And in your
experience as a police officer, how often is the best outcome the
most realistic one?” I can’t afford to be as optimistic as Luke. It
will destroy me to start believing things like that, only to have
my hopes crushed when my dad isn’t vindicated.

“
Not very
often,” Luke concedes. A sad look forms on his face. “But that’s
not going to change my optimism. Or what I know about Max—what I
know he would or wouldn’t do.”

Rage flushes
through me at his words, a direct jab at me for not being as
overwhelmed by the developments as he is. “Fuck you, Luke.” I
scrabble with the door handle, trying to get the hell away from
him. He leans across me and puts his hands over mine as I struggle.
I try to shrug him off and get out but he grabs hold of my
shoulders and pins me back. He isn’t rough, but there’s no way I’m
going anywhere.

“
Let me
go!”

“
No.”

“
You don’t
know my father better than me, Luke! You don’t get to accuse me of
not believing in him.”

“
I’m not
saying that,” he hisses, exasperation coloring his voice. I lash
out with my elbow, trying to get free, but it’s useless. “I’m just
saying that I’ve never believed Max was a killer. Not like that. I
knew he wouldn’t have touched those guys. Stop fighting me, Avery!
Fuck! Can’t you just calm down for one minute?”

I fall back
into the passenger seat, totally and utterly slack. My chest heaves
as I fight not to sob. “You have to tell me, Luke. I’m never going
to understand what he meant to you until you tell me why you were
so close.” A heavy silence fills the car. I spin around to glare at
him. Muted light washes in through his window, making his skin
ghostly pale. His eyes are large and round, staring straight at me.
His jaw clenches and I think he’s going to speak, but then he turns
away to stare out the window. “You’re not going to tell me, are
you?”

“
I
can’t.”

“
That’s such
crap, Luke. You know all my dark secrets, and yet you refuse to
tell me any of yours. You won’t even tell me the positive
stuff.”

He clenches
his jaw, his hands, every last muscle in his body. “What’s that
supposed to mean?”

“
It means that
you didn’t even tell me about your deal. Your band got signed! Do
you know how huge that is? I watched you tonight, saw how amazing
you are with those guys, and you never brought that up
once.”

Anger chases
away Luke’s sadness. “You think the music’s important to me?
Compared to
this
?
I have to help people, prevent them from getting hurt like you and
like…like me. I
have
to. Music’s an escape, Avery, something I do so I don’t have
to be
me
all the
time. It wouldn’t be the same if I quit being a cop and started
living out of a tour bus six months out of the year. As for my dark
secrets, some things are just so black and fucking awful that a
person never wants to air them out in the light of day. If you
knew…if I told you…”

“
If you told
me then what!”

“
Then you’d
run, Avery! You’d fucking run away from me, and it would be the
smartest thing you ever did.”

I can’t
believe that’s what he thinks. “You don’t know me half as well as
you think you do if you believe that.”

Luke drops his
head into his hands, sighing deeply. “You say that now.”

“
Maybe you
should just give me some credit and try trusting me.”

Luke turns his
head to look at me, still slumped over in his seat. He looks
heartbroken when he shakes his head.

That is all I
need. I grab hold of the door handle and pull, not struggling to
open it this time. “You were right. This
was
a bad idea, Luke. Next time, just
call.”

******

As of
Tuesday, the killer’s wife, Amanda Breslin, is known to have
relocated to New York City, leading many to ask the question—did
she know what her husband was up to? Close friends of the Breslin
family intimated that Iris, the only child to come from the Breslin
marriage, has entered a fugue state and does not respond to outside
stimulus. Doctors have given statements declaring that this is not
uncommon. Many of them have witnessed such reactions when victims
of abuse are freed from their captors. The psychological trauma the
child could have undergone is apparently significant.

The library is
quiet. Students sit with headphones plugged into the music players,
heads bent over their work, while I stare at the crumpled piece of
newspaper I keep in my bag. The paper is so thin where I’ve folded
and unfolded it repeatedly over the years that it has worn through
entirely over some of the creases. The Wyoming press had a field
day with my dad’s story, and at the time I was so wracked with
grief that I hadn’t been able to defend him. Everyone took my
silence, my inability to breathe without hurting, as a sign that
he’d done something to me. He’d never done anything but love me. I
trace my fingers lightly over the folded, yellowed newspaper and
tuck it back in between the pages of my text book, wondering.
Wondering when I’ll be able to move on. If it will ever happen at
all.

Fly high,
Icarus
. Well that’s a joke. Right now I
have no hope of even getting up off the ground. It doesn’t bear
thinking about what my dad would say to all this. How I am behaving
and letting everyone else get to me. How I’m treating people. And
by people, I mean Luke. I shove my books angrily into my satchel
just as I catch sight of Morgan bursting through the doors. Her
hair has fallen out of a loose ponytail, and her short-sleeved
t-shirt is crumpled and twisted around her body.

“
No running!”
the clerk calls, but Morgan’s not listening. She charges straight
for me, a wild look in her eyes. I stand automatically, registering
that she’s crying.

“
What is it?
What’s up?” I ask, grabbing hold of her shoulders as she slams into
me. With her face buried into my jacket, I can’t make out what
she’s saying. “Morgan?”

She leans back
and sobs silently. “Tate. It’s Tate.” She breaks down into
uncontrollable fits of tears and collapses into my arms again. I
struggle to hold her up, but her body is deadweight. Through the
hollow ache inside me, and that small voice in my head
asking,
is this really happening? Is this
seriously happening?
I know. I know that
Tate is dead.

******

“
Overdose?”

“
Yeah.” Morgan
swats tears from her cheeks, trying to keep it together. In the
three days since the library, there haven’t been many times when
she’s been able to accomplish that. We’ve been waiting for the
coroner’s report for days, and eventually we read it in the
newspapers, just like everyone else. Like we hadn’t been part of
Tate’s life and didn’t deserve to know. Morgan swallows thickly.
“The people in the neighboring buildings didn’t see his body on the
roof, because…” her voice wobbles, “because of the snow. They
probably wouldn’t have found him for weeks if the janitor hadn’t
gone up there for a smoke. He spotted one of his shoes.”

I reach out
and take her hand. It’s cold, but more worryingly she’s shaking.
She just hasn’t stopped shaking. “Have Tate’s parents talked to you
yet?”

She shakes her
head. “They told the Dean to make me stop calling. They think I
know how he got up there, but I don’t. I’d tell them if I did. I’ve
told them everything I know. I blacked out. The last thing I
remember is some guy shouting at Tate because he was throwing up in
the bathtub, and then…nothing. I only took one pill. He,” she sobs,
“he took three!”

“
Shhh, it’s
okay. I got you.” I pull Morgan to me. She’s barely left my
apartment since we all found out, and I have no intentions of
making her go. She is a wreck. “Tate’s parents have no idea what
went on, the same as the rest of us. How they think you’re
withholding information is a mystery. Don’t freak out, though.
We’ll get it all sorted out this afternoon.”

This afternoon
I’m Morgan’s ride to the police station, where she’s required for
questioning. Her parents don’t know anything about Tate’s death.
She doesn’t want them coming back to the city after they’ve only
just left her in peace.

Morgan slumps
down on my bed, her spine curved as she hugs herself tightly.
“They’re going to ask me where we got the drugs from,” she
whispers.

“
Of course
they will. You have to tell them, Morgan. It’s important. This guy
could be out there selling the same stuff to other students. People
need to know.”

Morgan’s eyes,
a watery grey from her constant crying, focus on me. It’s perhaps
the first time since the news that she’s looked at me and really
seen me.

“
You don’t
understand, Avery.”

“
I would if
you told me,” I say quietly. No matter how many times I’ve asked,
she point-blank refuses to give up the name of the dealer. Today is
no exception.