“Her mom.” Paige’s mouth suddenly feels very dry. “My friend Haley’s mom. It’s her store.”
“Was her store,” Dawson says. “Ain’t much of a store anymore.”
“Have you seen Haley lately?” Richards asks. “We went by her house, but she wasn’t around.”
“No, I haven’t,” Paige says. “Why are you even looking for her, anyway?”
“There was a witness at the St. Regis,” Dawson says. “A busboy on his smoke break. Said he saw a girl outside the hotel on the night in question, about the time the medical examiner figures breathed his last.”
Paige feels her heart rate jump to double time. She tries to hide it. “I didn’t hear anything about any witnesses.”
“We withhold information from the media,” Richards tells her.
“Can’t keep our suspects completely in the loop,” Dawson says.
Richards reaches into her jacket, pulls out a piece of paper. “The thing is, Ms. Hammond,” she says, unfolding the paper, “the busboy’s description sounds uncannily similar to this girl. And that girl looks a lot like your friend Haley Keefer.”
She slides the paper over to Paige. It’s the composite sketch of Haley from the Room spree. When it showed up in the newspaper, Paige couldn’t see the resemblance. Now, looking at it again, all she can see is Haley.
“Wait, what?” Paige says, hoping she looks shocked. “You think Haley killed and robbed The Room? And bombed the Côte d’Azur? Is she a suspect in the nine-eleven attacks, too?”
“Not just Haley,” Dawson says. “She brought three friends to The Room, remember?”
“And, what? I haven’t seen them, either, if that’s what you’re asking.”
The detectives swap another look. Richards takes the picture back. “You knew , didn’t you? You guys were kind of an item?”
“We went out for drinks once or twice. He got me a job on the movie he was shooting. It didn’t go further than that. He had a fiancée in Los Angeles.”
“What I hear, that never stopped him,” Dawson says.
“You lost that job, though,” Richards says. “A week or so before the murder. What happened?”
“How should I know?” Paige says. “The AD came up to me one day and told me they didn’t need me anymore, so I went home. That’s it.”
“Just like that, huh?” Dawson says. “No cause given?”
“What are you suggesting?”
“You’re a pretty girl. That’s all I’m saying.”
“There were three cocktail glasses in ’s room when security found the body, Paige,” Richards says. “One had been laced with a pretty powerful sedative.”
“You guys are just trying to solve every crime in town at once, huh?” Paige says. “No offense, but this sounds like a stretch.”
“That’s what we thought, too,” Richards says. “Believe me, this wasn’t the first theory we came up with. But then . . .”
She steps aside for Dawson, who holds out his phone to Paige. Onscreen, the Vine is playing, an endless loop.
“What do you know about the Suicide Pack?” Dawson asks her.
280.
Paige forces herself to stay calm.
“I think I should probably have my lawyer around if you want to keep asking questions,” she tells the detectives. “I don’t think she would like what you guys are insinuating.”
Dawson points at Richards. “She’s insinuating. I’m outright telling. I think you and your little friend murdered . And you blew up that store, too.”
“You’ll have to talk to my lawyer,” Paige tells him. “And until then, you have to leave.”
Richards pretends to wince. “This isn’t the way to do this, honey. If you get yourself out ahead of this thing, we can keep you out of jail.”
Dawson says, “Play the lawyer card one more time and we’ll throw the book at you.”
Paige stares him down. Hopes she looks brave. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says. “I already asked you to leave. Do I have to call in your badge numbers?”
Richards and Dawson look at each other. “Have it your way,” Dawson tells Paige. “I’m just saying, keep that lawyer on speed dial.”
281.
Richards hands Paige a business card as she walks to the door.
“Listen, you’re still young,” the detective says. “This isn’t serious yet, but it could be. You get nailed for this, you do heavy time. Do you really want to throw your life away?”
My life is already garbage, Paige thinks. You can’t help me.
“You decide you want to talk, give me a call,” Richards says, pressing the card into Paige’s hand. “Just remember, it’s a limited-time offer.”
282.
Paige calls Haley as soon as the cops are gone. “Where are you?”
“Jordan’s,” Haley tells her. “There’s, like, some slip-and-slide in the Properties later. I guess it’s like a hundred feet long. We were thinking about going.”
(To a slip-and-slide, Paige thinks. Now?)
Haley picks up on the vibe. “Look, I know what you’re thinking. But we have to get out, act normal. Jordan’s right. The more we act guilty, the more attention we attract.”
“Yeah,” Paige says. “About that.”
She tells Haley about Dawson and Richards. “They know you were at the St. Regis that night. They think I was there, too, and we killed him together.”
“But that’s bullshit,” Haley says. “We were so careful.”
Paige tells her it doesn’t matter. Tells her about the busboy on his smoke break. About the Room composite. The three cocktail glasses, the roofie in ’s drink. About Jordan’s Vine.
“Those cops were really scary,” Paige says. She pulls Detective Richards’s business card from her purse. Studies it. “Richards gave me her card. She said I should talk to them now, get ahead of this. She said she could help me.”
“She’s bluffing. Remember the rules? Don’t tell them anything without your lawyer present. If they really had anything, they would have arrested you already, right?”
“Right,” Paige says.
(But that doesn’t make her feel much better.)
She stays silent a beat or two. “There is one other thing,” she says finally. She tells Haley about Michael McDougall.
283.
Haley listens to the whole thing. How McDougall worked for Jordan’s dad. How he disappeared the morning after the murder.
“It can’t be a coincidence, can it?” Paige says.
“Yeah, but what are you saying? Like, Jordan disappeared this guy because he knew too much about what we’re doing?”
“Jordan killed , didn’t he?”
“We all killed . Anyway, Jordan was just defending us. There’s a big difference between killing someone in self-defense and killing someone on purpose, isn’t there?”
Paige doesn’t say anything.
(Was it self-defense?)
She’s really not sure.
284.
Haley tells Paige she’ll talk to Jordan.
“He probably just paid that guy off,” she says. “Bought him a plane ticket to, like, Fiji or something. Got him out of the way for a while.”
Paige isn’t convinced. But she tries to be.
“I just need to know we’re not, like, serial killers. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”
“Just relax,” Haley tells her. “I’ll talk to Jordan.”
KIK -- CAPILANO HIGH PRIVATE MESSAGE GROUP – 08/24/16 – 10:33 PM
USERNAME: Anonymous-9
MESSAGE: Who’s ready for answers, Capilano kiddies? Isn’t it about time we find out the SUICIDE PACK’s true identity???
KIK -- CAPILANO HIGH PRIVATE MESSAGE GROUP – 08/24/16 – 10:36 PM
USERNAME: Anonymous-9
MESSAGE: Tick-tock.
285.
“She said those detectives came to see her,” Haley tells Jordan. “They got to the Vines, and now they know about the Pack. Plus
some busboy at the St. Regis gave the cops my description. They’ve seen me before, after we blew up my mom’s store. I guess they remembered.”
Jordan rolls his eyes. “Somebody snitched on us. Big surprise. No one has any honor in this town.”
“Did you really think it was going to stay a secret? This whole thing escalated when we killed . It’s, like, a whole other level of crazy.” She hesitates. “And did you read those posts from Anonymous? Whoever that guy is, he’s talking like he knows us.”
“He doesn’t know us. It’s a bluff; he’s just messing with us.”
“Okay, but why, though?”
“Who knows? Maybe he’s jealous that we’re getting so freaking popular. Maybe he wants the attention to himself. Or maybe it really is Callum Fulchrest, and he’s playing some revenge game.”
Haley looks at him. “So what do we do?”
“We wait it out, duh,” Jordan says. “We play the game back until we figure out who he is. Then we teach him not to mess with the Pack.”
286.
“There’s something else, too,” Haley tells Jordan.
Jordan stops pacing. Looks back at her, waiting.
“Paige read a news article. Some guy at your dad’s studio is missing, some special effects guy? She’s scared it has something to do with us.”
Haley expects Jordan to look confused or surprised, or maybe deny everything. But he just purses his lips. “Shit,” he says. “Paige is going to sink us all.”
“Jordan?” Haley hears a little alarm start to go off inside her head. “What happened to the special effects guy?”
Jordan ignores her. “We need to have a team meeting.” He walks to the back door. Pokes his head out to the deck, where E is tanning by the pool.
“Go get Paige,” Jordan tells him. “Take my car and meet us down at the boat.”
287.
First thing E notices when he drives up to Paige’s place is the For Sale sign on her front lawn.
(The place looks deserted.)
E parks in the empty driveway and goes up the front stairs to the door. He rings the doorbell, and nobody answers. He knocks, and it’s the same story.
He texts Paige. Hey. Let me in.
There’s a pause. Then those ellipses show up on screen and she’s typing something.
Whoa, she writes back. One sec.
E waits. He looks around the neighborhood, up and down the block. It’s a beautiful day. The sun’s shining out over the water, shimmering gold and blue. It’s a great day for a boat ride.
The door unlocks and swings open. There’s Paige. She’s not wearing any makeup. She’s wearing a hoodie. She looks like she was maybe asleep.
“Uh, Jordan wanted me to get you,” E tells her. “We’re supposed to have some kind of team meeting. On his boat.”
Paige’s eyes go wide. She steps back and disappears into the house. The door stays open. After a moment, E follows her inside. The house is very clean. It looks like nobody lives there.
“Where did everyone go?” E asks Paige. “Are you the only one here?”
Paige is in the kitchen. The kitchen looks lived-in. There are piles of dirty dishes in the sink. An empty box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch on the counter.
“My mom’s in Italy,” Paige says. “My dad’s just gone. These days, it’s just me and the real-estate agent.”
“When did they put the house up?”
Paige shrugs. “Sometime between the Room spree and , I guess. I haven’t exactly been home in a while.”
E doesn’t say anything. E just kind of watches the dust hanging in the beams of sunlight coming through the kitchen windows. He waits for Paige to say something, but Paige doesn’t say anything either.
“So, uh, it kind of sounded important,” E says finally. “This team thing, or whatever. We’re just supposed to meet at the boat.”
Paige leans against the kitchen counter. Crosses her arms over her chest. “Haley told you guys, didn’t she? She told you what I know about Michael McDougall, and now this is happening.”
“What’s happening? Who’s Michael McDougall?” E frowns. “I didn’t talk to Haley at all. She and Jordan were talking, and then Jordan told me to come get you. That’s all I know.”
Paige pulls out her cell phone. “Michael McDougall,” she says, typing something. “Special effects technician at Grant Studios. Missing since last Thursday, the day after we killed .”
She hands E her phone. Onscreen is the news article. E looks at the picture and puts the pieces together. Feels something cold and scary start to gnaw at his insides.
“You know this guy?” Paige asks.
“Demolitions Mike,” E says. “That’s who we bought the explosives from to make Haley’s bomb.”
“I knew it.” Paige looks triumphant. “It’s Jordan, E, don’t you get it? He’s tying up all his loose ends.”
“What is this, a mob movie?” E shakes his head. “Listen to yourself, Paige. Jordan wouldn’t do that.”
“Wouldn’t he? He built a bomb for fun, Eric. He seems proud of the fact that we murdered a movie star. You really think we’re dealing with someone with a strong moral compass?”
(E feels that frustration growing again. There’s no reason for Paige to be such a goddamn drama queen. Of course Jordan didn’t kill Mike. Everything’s blown out of proportion.)
(Except there’s a little voice in E’s head, reminding him of how Jordan bought coffee from the coffee shop by the marina the morning after Paige’s Fix. How he seemed so confident that Mike wouldn’t sell them out.)
“On second thought, don’t answer that,” Paige says. “You’re so drunk on Jordan’s Kool-Aid, you probably don’t know which way is up anymore.”
(That does it. E’s little voice of reason is suddenly drowned out by his frustration.)
“Oh, fuck you,” E tells her. “You’re just jealous because you’re still in love with me, and I’m happy with Jordan.”
“You think I’m doing this because I’m in love with you?” Paige laughs, even though nothing’s funny. “I’m worried about you, Eric. This whole thing is spiraling out of control, and you’re too caught up in your little bullshit fairy tale to even notice.”
“It’s not bullshit. We’re in love.”
“In love? You’re his fucking sidekick. Wake up.”
E’s phone starts buzzing in his pocket. It’s obviously Jordan. Paige lets out a long, frustrated breath.
“Look, whatever,” she says. “Do what you want. But if you think I’m going out on that boat with you guys, you’re crazy.”
288.
Jordan and Haley are waiting on the dock when E pulls up. Jordan frowns when he sees E is alone. “Where’s Paige?”
“I couldn’t find her,” E lies. “She didn’t answer her texts, and her house was, like, deserted. I don’t think anybody was there.”
(E isn’t sure why he’s lying. But it has something to do with that little voice in his head.)
Jordan doesn’t say anything. E can practically see his brain working. “She’s in hiding.” Jordan starts pacing. “Shit. I was afraid this would happen.”
E doesn’t say anything. Neither does Haley. They’re just waiting for Jordan to decide what to do.
(You’re his fucking sidekick.)
(You’re drunk on his Kool-Aid.)
Abruptly, Jordan stops walking. He straightens. Smiles. “Let’s get out on the boat,” he tells E and Haley. “Let’s figure out what we’re going to do.”
289.
Nobody says anything until they’re out past the bay. They go ten, fifteen miles from the city, almost halfway to the islands that lie to the west. It’s windy on the water, and the waves are pretty choppy. The boat rocks back and forth in the swell.
There’s nobody around, not this far out. They’re miles past the pleasure boats and the cargo ships anchored in the bay. There’s nobody to see them. Nobody to listen.
Jordan powers down the Sundancer. Turns the boat into the wav
es and jogs along, pretty slow. It’s quiet enough to talk now. Jordan breaks the silence.
“Paige is a liability,” he says. “It’s only a matter of time before she sells us out.”
“We’ll be okay, though, won’t we?” E asks him. “You said you could get us out of anything.”
“Yeah, us. I said if we stuck together we’d be fine. If Paige goes rogue on us, we’re like a table with only three legs. We fall over.”
“It’s the stuff about the effects guy that’s freaking her out,” Haley says. “I don’t even think she cares about anymore. She just wants to make sure no one else is getting hurt.”
Jordan doesn’t say anything. He’s leaning against the front of the cockpit, between the controls and the stairs into the cabin. He’s looking out over the water like he’s thinking about something.
“I think we can get Paige back on board,” E says. “We just have to figure out once and for all what happened to Mike.”
“Mike.” Haley frowns. “You knew him?”
“We bought the explosives from Mike,” Jordan says. “He was my dad’s demolitions guy.”
Haley’s face kind of drains of color. “Oh.”
“Mike was getting scared. That first bomb we set off had him freaked. Just like Paige. He wouldn’t play ball anymore.”
“So what happened?” E asks, even though he doesn’t really want to know. “Did you pay him off or something? What did you do?”
Jordan looks at E, and he’s serious now. “What did I do?” he repeats. “I did what I had to do to protect us. To protect the Pack.”
(I guess this isn’t a surprise. You must have seen this coming. But E didn’t—and there’s really no way to adequately prepare for when your best friend-slash-boyfriend springs you with this kind of news.)
“You killed him. You killed him? Shit, Jordan.”
“This is all going to be fine.” There’s something really strange in Jordan’s voice. It’s sickeningly calm. “We’re going to make it out of this, I told you. You just have to trust me.”
The Fixes Page 20
