Love You to Death

by Bebe Faas Rice

  The next morning Julie resolved not to tell her parents, or anyone, about what had happened in the driveway of Tara’s house.

  “Don’t, Julie,” Quinn had warned her in the car the night before. “If we get involved, we’ll have to fill out police reports and answer questions. And they’ll be calling us down to the station every time there’s a robbery or a purse snatching. Besides,” he’d argued, “I took care of the problem, didn’t I? We’ll never see those two again.”

  Julie shuddered, remembering Frankie and what he might have done to her if Quinn hadn’t been there.

  “But what if they do come back?” she’d asked. “Those two were mean. Really mean, Quinn. Maybe they’ll think it over and decide to get revenge.”

  “No. No, they won’t.” Quinn’s face was closed, unreadable. “Trust me.”

  But now Julie remembered another look on Quinn’s face—the look he’d worn when he was beating up on the two muggers.

  He’d looked almost as if he were enjoying it.

  No, that can’t be true, Julie thought. After all, she had been half out of her head with fear at the time. Surely she’d imagined it. Quinn was saving her, wasn’t he? How many guys did she know who could have handled the situation the way he had?

  Mollie obviously sensed, the minute Julie sat down at the Sunday breakfast table, that something big had happened to Julie the night before.

  “How was Tara’s party?” Mollie asked casually for the benefit of their parents, but flashing her sister a secret and urgent questioning look,

  “Oh, that’s right, Julie,” her mother said, looking up from the stove where she was scrambling eggs. “How was the party? Did you have a nice time?”

  Julie arranged crisp, drained slices of bacon on a large blue-and-white platter and held it out while her mother spooned the eggs onto it.

  “Yes, I did,” she replied, attempting to sound matter-of-fact. “And I met—I mean, I really got to know—this cute new guy at school. His name’s Quinn McNeal.”

  Mollie flashed her a discreet thumbs-up.

  Julie could feel her cheeks redden and a dopey grin spread across her face at the mention of Quinn’s name.

  Fortunately, her father was buried behind the editorial pages of the paper and her mother’s back was to her, or they would have picked up on both the blush and the grin. No one could ever accuse Mr. and Mrs. Hagan of being unconcerned parents. They were always a little too concerned in Julie’s and Mollies opinions.

  “New boy?” her mother said vaguely, pouring the orange juice and setting the glasses on the table. “I don’t recall you mentioning a new boy at school. McNeal, you say? I don’t think I’ve ever met his parents.”

  Julie tried to smother her annoyance. Why did Mom always have to think in terms of Who’s Who in Braxton Falls?

  “He doesn’t have any parents,” she said shortly. “He’s an orphan.”

  Her father put down his paper at that. “An orphan? Does he live with relatives, or what?”

  “No, he lives alone in a basement apartment in town. He expects to get a small inheritance from the sale of his father’s house, but in the meantime he supports himself by . . .” She paused and drew a deep breath. Her mother wasn’t going to like this one. “. . . by delivering pizzas.”

  Her mother sat down quickly in her chair and eyed Julie shrewdly. “Do you think there’s a chance that you and this . . . this McNeal person will be seeing each other socially? Dating, I mean?”

  Julie returned her stare. “Yes, Mom, I’d say we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other. He’s really special. And he seems to think I am, too.”

  “He’s incredibly good-looking,” Mollie put in, trying to be helpful. “All the girls are crazy about him. They’ll be furious when they find out Julie’s got him.”

  “Got him?” her mother said. “You’ve got a pizza-delivery boy?”

  Help came from an unexpected quarter.

  “Don’t be such a snob, Vivian,” Mr. Hagan said, laying his newspaper aside and picking up his fork. “He sounds like a nice kid. And for the record, I was hustling hamburgers in a greasy-spoon diner when you got me, remember?”

  Telling Tara wasn’t as bad as Julie had expected.

  Tara didn’t appear at all surprised or angry at the news that Julie and Quinn were now a couple. She actually seemed pleasant, almost sisterly, about it.

  “I’ve noticed the way he looks at you, Julie,” she said affably. “He’s got it bad for you. When I saw him leave the party right behind you, I figured he was up to something.”

  She laughed her trademark melodious laugh and wagged her finger with its long scarlet nail before Julie’s face. “Now, you better hang on to him and treat him right, or I’ll move in on you, hear? That guy’s a real hunk!”

  Julie’s relief turned sour when she saw Shelley and Jessica share a secret smile at Tara’s words. Naturally they were on Tara’s side. They always would be.

  So what did that nasty little smile mean?

  Tara moved off down the hall and Julie turned to Jess and Shelley.

  “Look, I hope what’s happened between Quinn and me isn’t going to change things between us,” she said.

  Jessica looked uncomfortable and refused to meet Julie’s eyes, but Shelley faced her squarely.

  “Of course it’s going to change things between us, Julie. Why shouldn’t it? You didn’t play fair with Tara, so why should we trust you? There’s nothing lower than a boyfriend stealer. She told us right from the start that she wanted Quinn for herself, but you had to go and cut in on her, didn’t you?”

  Julie stared at her friend helplessly. “For the last time, Shelley, I didn’t steal Quinn. You can’t steal people. Besides, he never belonged to Tara in the first place. What made her think she owned him?”

  “Come on, Jess,” Shelley said. “We’ve got to catch up with Tara.”

  Julie watched bleakly as the two of them hurried away from her, not looking back.

  It was over. Their friendship was over. Julie was sure of it now. Tara would never forgive her as long as she was going with Quinn, and Jess and Shelley would always stick with Tara, no matter what. Shelley was a blind follower, and Jess was too weak to take a stand on anything.

  Julie had been critical of them these past few months, but she would still miss them. Miss the things they did together. Miss being part of a charmed circle of four.

  She sighed, grasped her books tightly, and headed down the hall to her next class. But just then she saw Quinn coming toward her, shouldering his way through clumps of giggling, chattering teens, and smiling a special smile, just for her.

  We’re a couple now, she thought, smiling back and moving toward him, forgetting Tara and the others. I have Quinn and that’s all that matters.

  Quinn put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head, almost as if he were staking a claim on her for all the world to see.

  All around them were astonished eyes and surprised faces, and Julie was aware that everyone was staring at her, and that she probably looked silly and lovestruck.

  Well, let them look, she thought happily, kissing him back. By lunchtime it will be all over school about Quinn and me, anyway. So I might as well relax and let it all hang out.

  Brad Stafford had been one of those standing, watching. He smiled at Julie as she went past with Quinn. It wasn’t his usual smile. This was a regretful, almost sad little smile, not at all like Brad.

  Quinn was waiting for Julie in the hall outside every classroom that day.

  “You don’t have to do that, Quinn,” she protested. “I don’t want you to be late for your own classes.”

  “But I want to,” he said. “I like carrying your books. It makes me feel like one of those old-fashioned boyfriends.”

  He was missing from his post only once, and that was when Julie came out of world history.

  He wasn’t far away, though. Boy-crazy Karen Slack had him pinned up against the wall a littl
e way down the hall. She was saying something to him, posing a bit, shaking back her thick, heavily permed hair and smiling an arch, teasing smile.

  She seemed to be asking—no, telling—him something. Julie couldn’t see Quinn’s face when he replied, but when he finally got away from Karen and came toward Julie, he looked annoyed.

  “I’m not going to ask what you and Karen were up to,” Julie told him, laughing. “I don’t want you to accuse me of being jealous of her.”

  Quinn rolled his eyes. “She was asking me how things worked out between you and me. I mean, about that dent I told her you put in my car. She even volunteered to help me find a good automotive shop where I can get my car fixed.”

  “I guess she hasn’t heard the latest about us, then,” Julie said. “She must be the only one in school who hasn’t. This place is a real gossip mill.”

  “There’s always one clueless person,” Quinn said cheerfully, linking his arm with hers. “And now, Miss Hagan, since I don’t have to report for work until late tonight, how about letting me take you out for frozen yogurt after last class?”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  What was it with these girls at Jefferson High? Why were they all trying to put the make on him? Hadn’t he made it clear, right from the start, that the only girl he was interested in was Julie?

  First it had been Tara. She’d been attracted to him, he could tell, and she’d tried to make him interested in her, too. Fat chance. She wasn’t his kind of girl. He only hoped Tara wasn’t going to try to make Julie miserable on his account. She was the kind of girl who’d do something like that. Well, let her try. Julie had him, now, and he wasn’t about to let anybody hurt her.

  And now Karen Slack was hitting on him.

  Why did she have to come after him? Didn’t she know he and Julie were a pair, or was she just plain stupid?

  The girl was trouble, and he was going to have to do something about her before she ruined his life. No sense trying to kid himself, she had the power to really mess him up.

  She’d caught him in the hall today and, acting all cute and flirty, had said, “I know your secret, Quinn McNeal!”

  At first he didn’t know what she meant. He’d thought maybe she was talking about him and Julie. But then she’d said, “I know where you’ve been the last four years.”

  He’d tried to play it cool, to keep a friendly expression on his face. He didn’t want anyone wondering what they were saying and listening in.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, stalling for time.

  “You’ve got a real interesting past,” she said. “No wonder you look so . . . experienced.”

  Her voice had drifted off but her eyes were bold.

  It was funny how some girls were turned on by guys who’d been in The Place. It happened all the time, though, according to a couple of guys who’d been in there before.

  But how did Karen know about his past?

  Then it hit him. Karen worked in the principal’s office. She’d seen his records! How could she have seen them, though? Mr. Reed said he was keeping them locked up in his special safe. The one only he had the combination to.

  Mr. Reed was a nice man, an okay guy. He wasn’t the sort to betray a trust. You developed a sixth sense about people when you’d been in The Place for a while. You could always tell those you could trust from those you couldn’t.

  He’d talked to Quinn in his office the day Quinn registered.

  “Look, son,” he’d said, “what you did is in the past, and you’ve certainly paid enough for it. It’s the future that matters now. So I’m going to put these records and the letters that accompanied them here in my private safe, where only I can have access to them.”

  Seeing that Quinn was still a little uncertain, Mr. Reed had continued, “Sometimes a high-school principal has to be like a doctor or a priest. There are some things we keep to ourselves.”

  “But the other teachers,” Quinn said. “Won’t they have to—”

  “No. I’ll personally compile your reports. The important thing here, Quinn, is to get you back on the right track, and the less others know about your past, the better.”

  And now Karen said she knew his secret. How did that happen?

  “What is this, Karen?” he’d asked, trying to keep it low-key. “Are you pulling my leg or what?”

  She’d smiled and run her hands through her hair. It was an annoying mannerism, Quinn noted, but she obviously thought she looked sexy doing it.

  “Mr. Reed’s gotten real absent-minded lately,” she said. “Would you believe he went off this morning and left his safe wide open? Why, anyone could have gone in and read your records, Quinn.”

  She smiled again, but a threat lay beneath that smile.

  “I closed it up real quick, though,” she said. “Of course, I just might have glanced at some of the stuff Mr. Reed had in there about you. But don’t worry, Quinn. Your secret is safe with me.”

  Well, at least she hadn’t told anyone else . . . yet.

  That figured—knowledge was power. And she had the knowledge about his past, so she had power over him. She probably wouldn’t want to share it with anyone until she found out what it would buy.

  He’d played it cool with her. He pretended he felt friendly toward her and that maybe they could get together and talk about it. Tonight, even. He said he’d call her. That way, even if she heard about him and Julie, she’d figure it was just gossip.

  That pizza-delivery job sure made things easier. It gave him an alibi.

  He’d call her after school and set up a meeting for tonight.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  On Tuesday afternoon two policemen found the body of Karen Slack.

  Her car was parked a few miles from town at a scenic overlook, a high bluff with a view of the Potomac River and the famous falls for which the town was named.

  Her body was lying, spread-eagled, on the rocks below.

  The police said she had either jumped, fallen, or been pushed from the overlook at approximately eleven o’clock on Monday night.

  Murder, her shocked classmates agreed, was completely out of the question. Who would want to murder Karen Slack?

  The police seemed to agree with the students of Jefferson High. They could find no motive for the possible murder of Karen Slack. And her body showed no signs of any injuries other than those caused by the impact of her fall.

  That left accident and suicide.

  Suicide seemed about as unlikely as murder. The police interviewed Karen’s friends and classmates, and no one could remember her ever acting “down” or depressed, or saying anything about wishing she were dead.

  “Just the opposite,” her best friend, Cassie Latimore, told the police. “She was always disgustingly cheerful. But what I can’t figure out is, why did she go up to the overlook? I mean, that’s a big parking spot for kids who want to make out, and Karen didn’t have anyone to make out with.”

  “Maybe she just wanted to go up there at night and pretend,” suggested Ann Collins, another of Karen’s friends. “And you know what a klutz Karen was. She probably leaned over the railing too far, lost her balance, and fell.”

  Accidental death, the police ruled it, and closed their books on the case.

  “I feel so awful about Karen,” Julie told Quinn at lunch the next day as they sat in a private, sunny spot down by the gym, sharing sandwiches and cookies.

  The two of them were brown-bagging it these days at Quinn’s suggestion. He said he didn’t like cafeteria food. Julie suspected it was actually the cafeteria and the “in” crowd at the special table he disliked. She was relieved he didn’t want to eat with them. It would be awkward to sit there now, considering how Tara, Jess, and Shelley felt about her.

  Actually, Quinn acted as if he wanted to keep her away from everybody, not just her old friends.

  “Why should you feel awful about Karen?” Quinn asked her, polishing an apple on the sleeve of his sweater.

  “Well, you know. I feel gui
lty for not realizing how needy and insecure she must have been. Can you imagine going up to the overlook at night by yourself? I guess no guy ever took her there.”

  “Are you saying you’ve been up there, Julie?” Quinn asked. He was smiling, but his eyes were cold. “How many guys have taken you up there?”

  “Oh, Quinn, it’s not like that at all.”

  “Who’d you make out with up there? That Brad Stafford creep?”

  He reached over and grasped Julie’s wrist. She tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. “I mean it, Julie. I really want to know.”

  “Let go of me, Quinn!” she gasped. “You’re hurting me!”

  He didn’t seem to hear her. Didn’t seem to realize she was in pain. His eyes had darkened. They looked almost black now.

  “Who?” he repeated. “Answer me.”

  “Nobody,” Julie said, close to tears. “I’ve never made out with anybody up on The Point. Now let go of my arm, Quinn.”

  He loosened his grip on her wrist but didn’t remove his hand. “Are you telling me the truth? You’ve never been with somebody up there?”

  Julie tore her arm free and rubbed her wrist. She could see the red imprint of his fingers on it.

  “I didn’t say I’ve never been up there,” she snapped. “Sure, I’ve gone up to The Point, but it’s always been with a bunch of kids, and we never did anything . . . like that.”

  She turned and faced him, tears of anger welling up in her eyes. “So listen to me good, Quinn, because I’m not going to say it again. I’ve never made out with a guy up there. I don’t think I’ve ever actually ‘made out’—I mean, well, you know—with anybody anywhere. You’re looking at a real inexperienced girl here. So there. Are you satisfied now?”

  He stared at her silently for several seconds. She could see his face softening and his eyes losing that wild black look.

  “Oh, Julie,” he finally said. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  He tried to put his arms around her, but she pulled away.

  “No, don’t touch me,” she commanded. “I don’t want you to touch me.”

  Obediently, he put his hands in his lap and stared bleakly down at them.