by Vivi Barnes
“—don’t understand the opportunity here,” Frank is saying. “Bill would’ve wanted us to use the money.”
Nancy groans. “I had this same conversation with one of my kids today. We don’t need this, Frank.”
“You may not, but I do.”
“How much do you need?” There’s a long pause, during which Frank is mumbling.
“Again?” Nancy asks, her voice exasperated. “When are you going to learn to stay away from those thugs?”
“When you wise up. What about that Z kid?”
“No.” Nancy’s voice is firm. “You will leave my kids alone. I’m sorry for your troubles. I really am. But stay away from my family, understand?”
Frank says something else, but so low that I can’t catch it. Nancy says, “I don’t care,” a couple more times, then the door opens and slams closed.
I run downstairs in time to see Frank grabbing his coat from the rack and opening the front door. His eyes catch mine, and his frown deepens into a scowl. I don’t have any evidence yet about Liv, but he’s confirmed my suspicions about money.
As soon as he’s gone I go back into the office, reaching over to grab my phone from the bookshelf. Nancy’s staring at her computer, her eyebrows pinched. She glances up at me.
“What was Frank doing here?” I ask. “Stopping by to say hi?”
“Something like that.”
I lock eyes with her. “So I have an idea about the man in the video. I think you might know who that is.”
Her expression changes from curious to wary. She drops her hands. “It’s not Frank.”
“And you know this for sure because…”
“Because I do. Leave it alone.”
“Nope. I’m being framed for something I didn’t do, and according to the jewelry store, it was a blond guy who came in to buy the bracelets. You can even see him on the security camera’s footage.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Considering you can’t see his face, if that’s all you have, it’s not enough.”
“What’s he wanting money for?” I ask. “And why does he want to use me?”
She frowns. “Eavesdropping is a bad habit and not one I’d have thought you’d stoop to in your own house.”
“Only when I think it involves me or someone I care about. Someone’s after Liv. So far, Frank is my best suspect, and you haven’t convinced me otherwise. And someone is working with him—a blond girl who looks a lot like Jen.”
“I can understand why you feel this way. But Frank’s just a guy who needs help like everyone else. He lost a lot when Bill died and needed a handout. I gave him one from my own account. End of story.”
“Why would you do that?”
“How about compassion? How about loyalty? Doesn’t that mean anything these days?”
Her voice is agitated. Nancy is extremely loyal when it comes to any of us in the house. She always said family is the most important thing to her.
Family.
Suddenly, it clicks—the one person associated with Frank Jones, the one I could find nothing on for the past twenty years except the fact that he was from Pittsburgh. Same reason you wouldn’t find anything on Jack Dawkins.
I take a deep breath and hope I’m right. At the same time, I don’t want to be. This will complicate things a lot. “The salesman said he talked to the guy who bought it about how they both grew up in Philadelphia. Isn’t that where you’re from?”
She shakes her head. “Pittsburgh,” she says. “I don’t see why—”
She stops as I watch her silently figure it out, her mouth closing, then opening, then closing. Gotcha.
“You’re Frank’s sister.” I shake my head. “And here I thought I had a lot of family secrets to hide.”
Nancy’s face pales, and she leans back against her desk. “How’d you find out?” Her eyes shift to her computer.
I hold up a hand. “I didn’t hack your computer. I wouldn’t do that,” I tell her quickly. At the same time, I’m not planning on telling her how Sam and I hijacked her phone or Frank’s. “Elizabeth is your real name, isn’t it?”
She nods. “My mother used to call me Nancy, though. I’d rather you keep that information private.”
“I’m not going to tell, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Then her face relaxes into a smile. “I know that. And of anyone, I’m not surprised you’d be the one to figure it out. How— You know what? Never mind, I don’t think I want to know.”
“Frank must’ve used your relationship to figure out his way into our accounts.”
“No, he’s not the one doing that, I’m sure.” She sighs. “Frank is my brother, but we’ve never been close. He’s the one who actually introduced me to Bill a long time ago. He was Bill’s driver for years, but he never did anything but drive. Maybe that’s why he ended up in Bill’s confidence.” She says the last quietly to herself, like an afterthought.
“What did Bill confide in him about?”
Her eyes rise to meet mine, her face smoothing into a mask. “I don’t know. I’m just assuming. Bill’s death left a gaping hole in a lot of people’s lives. Ours as well as his. Some just need more help getting back on their feet than others. Frank’s one of those guys. But he’s not stealing from us.”
“How are you so sure it’s not him doing this? If he needs money that badly, he might think about Liv in her big mansion. He’s gone there before, when he was Bill’s driver.”
“Frank’s not… Well, he’s not exactly a mental giant. He dropped out of school when he was fifteen. Definitely not capable of working out the whole hacking thing. That’s why he stayed as Bill’s driver, nothing more.”
“But what does he need me for?”
“He thinks he can get you to hack one of Bill’s old accounts. We don’t even know if it’s available.” She straightens. “I think that’s about enough of this conversation, Z. Whatever he wants from you, he’s not going to get it. I gave him enough to start him on a new path, and I hope he takes the right one. Just like I hope you do. End of story.”
End of story for her, but someone stealing from our accounts should point the finger immediately to Frank. I don’t know why Nancy turns a blind eye to that, brother or not.
The door opens and Jen walks in, holding—shit—a small white box. Her face is gleeful. “Hi, Nancy! Just thought you might need a little more evidence.”
“Where’d you get that?” I ask her sharply.
“You know. I found it in your room.” She opens the box and lets out an exaggerated gasp. “Wow, such a gorgeous bracelet! Who’s the lucky recipient? Not like I really need to ask.”
I look quickly at Nancy. “That was in my desk drawer. She’s out of line.”
Nancy walks over and takes the box from Jen. “Is this what I think it is?” she asks me.
“Yes. I got it from Liv last time I went up there. Sam and I took it to the jewelry store to find out who bought it. I don’t know why Jen’s looking so surprised when she obviously was involved.”
Nancy hands it to me. I slip the bracelet into my jacket pocket and turn to Jen. “Stay out of my room or I’ll kick you out of this house myself.”
She looks to Nancy for support, but Nancy nods in agreement. Jen shakes her head. “Un-freaking-believable.” She storms out, slamming the door so hard it shakes everything in the room. Sam and Micah walk in.
“What’s up her butt?” Micah asks, looking at me.
“You know,” I say, “I’m tired of talking about this. I’m going upstairs.”
Maggie jumps up from the couch to follow me to my room. “I believe you, you know,” she says, closing the door behind her. She sits down on my bed next to me. “And Jen is awful. She was talking the other day about getting back at you.”
I look sharply at her. “She told you that?”
“Well, not really. She was talking to Cara. I walked by and heard her say it. She was so angry.” Maggie picks at her fingernail. “I have to admit, she scares me a littl
e.”
Maggie’s eyes flick up to see my reaction. I don’t miss it, and I suddenly wonder if Maggie knows more than she’s letting on. She and Jen don’t get along, but they could’ve teamed up to get back at Liv…and me…
But I haven’t noticed her missing recently. She’s been at every dinner here, every breakfast. She’s barely left her room since moving in. Jen, on the other hand, has disappeared for long periods of time—even Nancy has noticed. And I don’t see Maggie managing to climb up Liv’s balcony or figuring out how to hack into our accounts. Her mind barely seems functional, and she was terrible at hacking.
“I have an idea. Would you help me?” I ask. Maggie nods eagerly. “Let me know when Jen leaves again. I’m going to follow her and see what she’s up to.”
“I will!” Maggie stands, looking happier than I’ve seen her in a while. She’s always been so eager to please. It makes me feel sick to think of how often people have taken advantage of that eagerness. Myself included.
As soon as she’s gone, I sit at my computer. Nothing but hard evidence will convince Nancy of Frank’s guilt. Evidence I don’t have. I’ve looked through rosters of crime rings and wanted felons, but nothing with Frank’s attributes shows up. And if our detective contact Jim Rush, who accesses the dark side of the web as much as we do, can’t come up with any dirt on Frank, the guy knows how to stay clean. Nancy’s claim that the guy is uneducated doesn’t seem authentic to me.
Thirty minutes later, the door flies open. I grit my teeth, wanting to shout about lack of privacy in this house, but I can’t do that to Maggie. “Yes?” I say as politely as I can.
“She’s leaving now,” she whispers excitedly. “Jen. I overheard her telling Cara not to wait up, and she was laughing.”
“Thanks.” Maggie doesn’t leave. Does she think I’m going to take her with me? I think quickly for something else to give her as a job. “Okay, so now what I need is for you to see if you can get any information from Nancy on this guy named Frank, okay?”
“Frank?” she asks, her brow wrinkled in confusion. “That man who comes around to talk to Nancy?”
“Yeah. I think he’s the one who’s been stealing money from everyone.”
She slowly nods like it all makes sense. “Okay, I will.”
I breathe out heavily when she leaves. Having Maggie around is like having a kid sister always banging on the door. I wasn’t planning on leaving here until after graduation, but it might have to be sooner than that.
Grabbing my keys and jacket, I head outside, grateful that it’s not as cold as yesterday. It doesn’t take me long to catch up to Jen’s old pickup truck just ahead of me. Slowing down, I allow a car to pass me and stay behind it to follow her.
The blue truck turns onto a smaller road. I pull over to wait a couple minutes, then follow her, keeping the vehicle small enough in my vision that hopefully she doesn’t notice. In my mirror, I can see another truck behind me. I slow down a bit to let it pass in order to keep it between Jen and me, but it stays on my tail. A couple miles later, I can see Jen slowing down, her right blinker on as she turns onto another street. I start to speed up to not lose her, but a glint of something to my left causes me to look around.
The truck that was behind me is now passing. It swerves quickly toward me. I jerk the handles to the right and apply my brakes as the truck veers sharply into my lane. The bike careens over the shoulder.
I can’t get control.
I can’t—
Chapter Twenty-One
LIV
Jack hasn’t answered his phone or returned my text. I stare at the last message from him that reads Trouble here will call you later.
Trouble? What does that mean? I tap my phone impatiently. Jack, where are you?
Grandfather is home having dinner with me tonight, and I really wish he wasn’t. I apologized to him this morning for speaking rudely to him, and he told me to forget about it, though I’m sure he’s still hurt. He looked shocked at my change in hair color, but he didn’t say much about it. Mrs. Bedwin seemed slightly disappointed when she touched my hair, but then she nodded like she understood. Blond is not my mother, and it’s not Van. It’s Olivia.
Grandfather seems to be making an extra effort to be around. He tries to strike up conversation about school, but I’m unable to focus on what he’s saying. The more time that passes, the more I worry. I finally push my barely touched food away at dinner and tell him I’m not feeling well. I head up to my room and try Jack one more time—again straight to voicemail. I call Sam but she tells me she hasn’t seen him for hours.
“His last text said something about being in trouble,” I tell her. “Do you know anything about that?”
There’s a long pause. “Well, there’s some money missing from accounts here, and he’s been accused of stealing it.”
“What?” Jack stealing money from his own house? Not a chance.
“I know. I don’t believe it, either, but Jen put up a pretty good argument.”
“What did she say?”
“That he was sending you gifts.”
“You mean the bracelet? It wasn’t him. He thought it might be Jen.”
“I know,” Sam says. “We saw the video.” Sam says something to someone, but her hand must be over the speaker, since I can’t make out what they’re saying. “Sorry, gotta go,” she tells me. “I’ll have him call you when I see him.”
I hang up with her. For Jack to be accused of stealing from the others is pretty extreme. I can’t believe anyone would even start to think that would be true. I’d be shocked if Nancy actually believed that, either. I wonder, though, why he hasn’t called me back or even texted me. It’s been hours now. I get that he’s preoccupied with whatever is going on there, but it seems like he’d at least say something.
I text him again. You okay?
Nothing. Again.
It isn’t until early morning, when my ringing phone wakes me from a restless sleep, that I hear back from Sam.
“They found Z,” she says, her voice higher than usual.
My throat tightens. “Found him? What do you mean?”
“He’s at VCU Medical Center since last night. He was in a bad accident. I think he’ll be okay. I’m not sure, though. Nancy’s with him. I’m driving over there right now. My battery’s dying but I’ll try to let you know.”
“Sam!”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll call you later.”
The phone disconnects. I call her back but it goes straight to voicemail. Damn it. They’ve found him—what does that mean? And does she think I’m going to sit here waiting for her to let me know if Jack is okay or not? What if he’s really bad off? I look up the number for the VCU Medical Center. But I don’t know what name they have him under.
My knees start shaking. I lean against my desk. Oh, Jack. I still love you. I shouldn’t have pretended I didn’t care.
My alarm rings, making me jump. Screw this. I switch it off and head to my closet, slipping into a pair of jeans and a sweater over my tank. The hospital will be cold, I’m sure. I pick up a duffel bag from the corner and consider my clothes. I may not have to stay, but I should be prepared just in case. I pull out another pair of jeans and sweater and stuff them into the bag.
A light tap on the door makes me jump. Mrs. Bedwin opens it, the usual cup of tea in her hand. “Good morning,” she says, walking over to me. “What are you doing with that bag?”
“Huh? Oh, nothing.” I drop the bag back in the corner of my closet, hoping she didn’t notice the bulk of it. “Just thinking about giving away some of my old clothes.”
“Oh.” She tilts her head. “Everything okay?”
I nod and smile. Nodding and smiling are what I do best these days. I take the cup from her and sip the tea, unable to stop it from shaking slightly in my hands. I’m sure Mrs. Bedwin notices, but she doesn’t say anything.
As soon as she leaves the room, I pull out my bag and continue packing. Since I know I can’t exactly car
ry a duffel bag through the house without being seen, I consider dropping it over the balcony. But I need to be able to get out of the house without that detective following me. The way the he acted at Em’s house, there’s no chance he’d take my need to leave town seriously. Instead of tailing me, he’d probably lock me up so I couldn’t go anywhere. Grandfather won’t understand, either. But I can’t stay here while Jack’s in the hospital. No way.
A quick call to Emerson solves that problem. She arrives at the house after breakfast and follows me to my room to switch outfits.
“I wore the brightest hat and coat I could find,” she says as I stuff my hair into the orange knit beanie. “It was a good time for you to go blond, huh?”
Still, her hair is a lighter, brighter blond than mine, so she tucks it into one of my cream-colored beanies.
“It’s perfect,” I tell her. We stand side by side to look in my full-length mirror—me in her orange coat and her in my navy duster. “Nobody could tell the difference until they’re close up.”
“One more touch.” She hands me her white Prada sunglasses and I give her mine. “This is so exciting. Oh, sorry,” she adds, dropping her grin. “I know you’re worried about him.”
“Yeah. Thanks for helping me like this.”
“That’s what friends are for.” She places a hand on my arm. “Do you know when you might be back?”
“No. If he’s okay, I’ll be back after school lets out. If not…well, are you good with keeping this up till tomorrow?”
“Sure.” She adjusts my hat slightly to cover more of the front of my hair. “You can keep my car as long as you need. I’ll just take yours home with me after school. If you aren’t back, then you can tell your grandpa that you’re spending the night with me. Or whatever.”
“Thanks so much, Em.” My voice cracks, something she doesn’t miss.
“He’ll be okay,” she says quietly. She gives me a hug, but I pull away quickly when I feel the tears inching their way forward. I put the glasses on so she won’t notice and model a pose.
“Emerson Daly, at your service,” I say, my voice light.
