The Girl In White

by Shannon Reber

  “Happy Birthday,” was bellowed by at least thirty people.

  Imogen shot me a smirk. “You ready for this, birthday girl?” she asked and without waiting for an answer, she threw her door open and bellowed at the top of her lungs. “Let’s PARTY!”

  I had the urge to hunker down in the very back of the SUV where no one could see me. That was when a pair of gorgeous blue eyes met mine through the window. Ian. He had come.

  He opened the door and shot me the kind of smile that he’d given me when we were little. It was a dare through and through.

  I rolled my eyes at him, my lips curved up in a reluctant smile. “Any chance you want to be nice to me and let me hide in your trunk until Imogen and Serena let me go home?” I pleaded, only half serious.

  He hooked his arm around my shoulders and pulled me out of the seat. “Not a chance, Mads. We’re going to turn you into a party girl and you and I—” he waved his thumb between us, “we’re not going to argue about a single thing all night. Deal?” He asked as he took his arm away.

  I shook my head. “I reserve the right to argue with you. It’s my favorite pastime,” I said, pleased to be there for a reason I couldn’t even identify.

  “Don’t I know it,” he replied and his smile was as warm as an embrace.

  That was when Imogen rushed over, taking both of my hands to pull me toward a group of what looked like musicians. I shot a desperate look at Ian, almost ready to beg him to stick close. It turned out to be unnecessary. He was right there, his smile still in place.

  Imogen hauled me over and began introducing me to everyone. I forgot most of their names right after they were said, yet a few of them were people I’d done work for. Because of that, the people whose computers had been fixed by me told their friends. Suddenly I was bombarded by requests for me to work my magic on everything electronic in people’s lives.

  After a few minutes, Ian took pity on me and hooked his arm around my shoulders again. “Let’s get you some food,” he said and guided me over to the food table.

  I tipped my head back to look up at the trees all around us, marveling at the twinkle lights that had been strewn through the branches. It was one of the prettiest things I’d seen in a while. And a bubble of happiness began to fill my chest.

  “Thank you, Ian,” I said, my eyes still fixed on those lights.

  “For what?”

  I turned to look at him. “For talking to my dad. I wouldn’t have let him know I was here at all. Because of you, I know him better than I ever have before.” Instinctively, I extended my little finger toward him like Emma and I had done as little kids. It felt like the only way to show him the extent of my gratitude.

  He hooked his little finger around mine and used it to pull me in for a hug. “I’m glad you’re happy, Mads. You deserve to be,” he said into my ear before he drew away and smirked at me. “And by the way, my mom made those cupcakes you love, the ones that are more frosting than cake. She also sent a card and a plea that you come to see them. She misses you.”

  My bottom lip wobbled. Mrs. Gregory had sent my favorite dessert. That meant Ian had told her he was coming to my party. I had feared she wouldn’t want to see me, that it would be far too painful for her.

  Ian shook his head and skimmed his fingers over the one place on my entire body that was ticklish. “Don’t you dare, Madison Meyer. You know perfectly well I can’t handle tears.”

  I squirmed to get away from him, a shrieking giggle escaping me before that sound could be retracted. And to Ian, that sound was like chum to a shark. That boy did not play by the rules.

  He was laughing as hard as I was by the time he finally released me, his eyes dancing with happiness. “Come on, Mads. Let’s get one of your frosting cups and see if you can remember anybody Imogen introduced you to,” he said and snagged two bottles of what looked like my favorite Italian soda out of a cooler.

  I picked up two of the greatest cupcakes known to man and followed him over, unsure if smashing his cupcake into his face would be a waste of all that glorious frosting. One look at the gooey treat and I couldn’t do it. “Do me a favor and tell your mom I love her,” I said, the warmth inside me one of the nicest feelings ever.

  “Not a chance. Tell her yourself,” he demanded, glancing over at me as we walked. “You know, you could come over for dinner on Sunday. She hasn’t made one of her pot roasts in a while. I bet she would if I told her you were coming.”

  I let out a laugh and sneered at him. “Oh yeah. All I am to you is a means to a full belly.”

  “That and happy taste buds. I’m a growing boy.”

  “Growing horizontally,” I muttered with a wide grin.

  He snorted and lifted his shirt to show me his flat stomach. “Are you calling me fat?” he asked in a mock-offended tone.

  That was when his admirers converged on him. Girls oohed over his abs, guys lifted their own shirts as though in competition, and the birthday girl was shoved to the side.

  I had a feeling they had done it purposefully since Infinity was right there in the middle of things. At some point, the girl was going to have to get over the fact that I had ranked higher than her in school. Since she couldn’t compete with me in classes, it seemed she had chosen to challenge me for Ian’s attention. I had no interest in her games anymore.

  I looked around for Imogen, her bright head far easier to spot in that large a group. It took me a while to find her. When I did, it surprised me how happy I was at the sight of her.

  I walked over and sat down in the chair next to hers, setting Ian’s cupcake on my knee. “So, how’s the party treating you?” I asked, slowly removing the paper from the cupcake.

  Imogen snagged Ian’s cupcake off my knee and shot me a wide grin as she rolled her eyes. “Madison, you are a mystery through and through.” She lifted a finger as though to make an unassailable point after she’d swallowed her first bite of cupcake. “You spend all of your time locked in your bedroom on the computer, which made me think you had no social skills whatsoever. Now, I see you with Mr. Scooby snack there and you act like you’ve never spent a day in your room. Which version of you is the right one?” she asked not in a critical way, simply a curious one.

  I took a bite of my cupcake and let out a moan of joy, my head tipped back to look up at the twinkle lights. “I grew up with Ian. He taught me how to ride my bike when I was five and carried me to his house when I broke my arm falling out of a tree when I was seven. I know him. It’s easier with him because of that. I really am the social incompetent you thought I was.” And that fact irritated me to no end. It was something I was determined to change in myself, no matter what it took.

  Imogen ran her finger through the icing and licked it off before she let out a sound of exasperation. “Madison, I have never thought you were socially incompetent. I thought you were shy and too brilliant to bother with peasants like us.”

  I turned my head to look at her and crinkled my nose. “Are you serious? That’s really how you saw me?” I asked, ashamed of myself for ever having made her think anything of the sort.

  “I don’t know. I thought gorgeous geniuses who could attract hot jock boys were only in fiction. To find out that girls like you exist in real life makes the rest of us look like ignorant frumps.”

  I rolled my eyes at that idea but my attention was caught by the sight of Ian. He had extricated himself from his admirers and looked like he was about to start a brawl with one of the guys Imogen had introduced me to. Imogen had called the guy Spencer, so it was clear Ian had a long-standing grudge against the guy for some reason.

  I wasn’t sure what was going on. Several other people had noticed them as well and had moved as though to break up the fight. It was odd and SO unlike Ian.

  Imogen’s eyes were fixed on them as well, her mouth open in surprise as we watched Ian shove Spencer back.

  I turned my head to look at Imogen again and motioned out to where Serena and Dylan had begun dancing. “What do you say? Want to
break up the love-fest between those two? They look like they could use us,” I asked, hoping to reclaim some of my feeling of warmth and happiness.

  Imogen’s eyes flashed. “No, Madison. I don’t. I want to bash some stupid heads together,” she said sharply as she began to get up.

  I jumped up and got in Imogen’s way. “Can I ask for a birthday present?” I asked, going on before she could answer. “I’d like to dance with my two favorite people.”

  She scowled at me for a second before her lips quirked up in a grin. “So you’re saying I can return the t-shirt I got you that says, ‘Been there, hacked that, got the t-shirt’?”

  A bubble of laughter escaped me until I was practically rolling on the ground. “Okay, fine. No dancing. I want that shirt like crazy,” I hiccupped out, delighted that she had picked the perfect gift for me.

  Imogen hooked her arm through mine and tugged me toward the dancers. “I’ll let you have both, Zen-master,” she said and stuck out her tongue at me. “Only because it’s your birthday, though.”

  And every ounce of happiness reclaimed me as Imogen, Serena, and I all moved in time to the music. It was amazing. The group swelled until hardly anybody was on the outskirts of our fun.

  I smiled at Ian as he stepped toward me and we began to move in unison. Emma had been on the dance team at school, so had taught me quite a bit. Ian and I danced well together, our rhythm set by years of knowing each other.

  Imogen rushed over to me as one song ended and placed her phone in my hand to show me the video she had taken of us. Ian leaned over my shoulder to watch as well and laughed in my ear. “I think you and I might have switched bodies. You were always the fighter and I was the one calming you down.”

  I grinned and elbowed him lightly. “I’ll fight with you anytime, Ian,” I said, handing Imogen her phone after I’d sent the video to myself.

  Ian hooked his arm around my shoulders and motioned with his thumb toward a path that led into the trees. “Take a walk with me?” he asked, his voice soft in my ear.

  I patted his arm in assent, eager to get away from his admirers who had converged around us again.

  He and I walked away from everyone out into the trees, our feet making very little sound on the path. It was one of my favorite things, to be in the woods. With the twinkle lights in the trees and the sounds of the people behind us, everything felt perfect.

  “You’ve changed a lot more than I thought you had,” Ian said, his arm warm around my shoulders as I tentatively put mine around his waist.

  “You thought I’d stay a bratty little girl forever?” I asked with a small smile, too much at peace to care how annoying that was.

  He let out a light chuckle and shook his head. “You were never bratty. You were temperamental. I’ve seen that temper of yours a couple of times but it’s nothing like it used to be.”

  I sighed, irritated to have my good mood dashed by his reminders of how obnoxious I had been as a kid when he had been the one who’d almost gotten into a fight. “So what classes are you taking?” I asked to change the subject, wanting to pull free and retake the fun with Imogen and Serena.

  “I always say the wrong thing to you,” he said and stopped me, turning me to face him. “I wasn’t criticizing you, Mads. I was telling you I’m sorry about the thing with Spencer. It had nothing to do with your birthday, so I should have ignored him like you do these days. It’s like nothing can bother you anymore. I just wanted you to know I find that kind of amazing.”

  My lips quirked up in a tiny smile. “Kind of? Come on, Ian. Kind of hardly counts,” I teased to get a rise out of him.

  He smirked at me. “You’re right. It was astronomically amazing, like everything you do. That better?”

  I pulled away and motioned toward the party. “I swear I just heard Imogen start the fight I’ve been trying to keep her from all evening. Want to help me break it up, or are you one of those guys who’d rather watch a cat-fight than to try and stop it?”

  He blew out a loud breath and groaned. “Madison, I asked you out here so I could give you your present. I wasn’t trying to pick a fight, no matter how easy that is. Do you mind if I give it to you?” He rubbed the back of his neck in apparent frustration.

  I motioned toward the party again. “You already gave me my present. The cupcakes were so amazing, I’m thinking about having another.” I held out my hand in invitation, not sure what to make of the whole situation.

  He wasn’t treating me like the little girl he’d grown up with. He was treating me like I was . . . someone he liked. Was that possible? Could Ian Gregory have those kinds of feelings about me?

  He took hold of my hand and used it to pull me around. “Close your eyes, Mads,” he said, the frustration gone from his face.

  I shot him a wary look but did close my eyes, nervous for a reason that could not be explained. I hated giving other people control over me. With my eyes closed and Ian’s hand around mine, he was in control.

  It made me even more nervous that he remained quiet. That was when my phone beeped. Without conscious thought, I pulled it out. What I found was a text from Ian.

  I opened it and my heart began to pound. It was at least a dozen pictures of me and Emma, one with him giving me a piggy-back ride as Dylan gave Emma one. Our ages ranged from toddlers to teenagers. Tears filled my eyes at the sweetness of that gift.

  He shot me a slow smile and leaned down to kiss my cheek. “Happy Birthday, Madison,” he said, his lips still on my cheek.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and burrowed in. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me, all my life. He and I had such an odd pseudo friendship thing going on. Right then, there was nothing pseudo about it.

  He wrapped his arms around my waist and let out a sigh. “I’m really glad you moved back here,” he said in the kind of voice that made a shiver pass up my spine.

  “Why?” I whispered, still clinging to his neck.

  A slight chuckle rumbled through his chest. “I missed your freckles,” he said and pulled me around. He slid his hand down my arm and entwined his fingers with mine as he pulled me deeper into the woods.

  I was dazed. It was such a nice feeling to be there with someone I knew so well. Or I’d thought I knew him anyway. I was no longer sure.

  He was so different from the scornful guy who had teased me every day of my life. The grownup version of him was far nicer and seemed to see me as a grownup as well. That was gratifying.

  His fingers were warm and strong around mine. Ian Gregory held my hand. That was crazy.

  And at that moment, our worlds turned into a nightmare. We rounded a corner on the path and we stumbled at the same time. Something was there. A girl in a white dress. Emma.

  The rage on her face was the most horrifying thing I had ever seen. She looked like a monster, her face purpled, her neck bruised, her nails broken. My hand clenched around Ian’s because Emma was not the only horror on that path.

  A kid a year or two older than me hung from a tree, his body dangling over the path. He looked like Emma had. Everything about their position was identical.

  I stared from the ghost of my best friend to the guy who hung from the tree, a keening wail escaping my lungs. It wasn’t suicide. There was no doubt. Everyone would see that now. Emma had been murdered exactly like that kid.

  ELEVEN

  The strobes of police lights made my eyes ache as sirens wailed in my ears. Police. Paramedics. Medical examiner. Curious bystanders. It was bedlam.

  I wanted to run out into the woods and find Emma, beg her to tell me what had happened. No one would allow me anywhere near.

  “Your name?”

  I blinked, startled to see a man standing over me with inquisitive eyes. I looked down at my hands as they clasped and unclasped on my knees. “Madison Meyer,” I almost whispered, my body so cold it was painful.

  The guy turned to one of the paramedics and spoke for a second before he came back to me, laying a blanket around my shoulders
. “Tell me what you saw,” he said in a gruff voice, letting out a small groan as he sat in a chair next to my own.

  I couldn’t tell him, though. They would think I was crazy if I told them my dead friend had appeared on the path in front of us. I wanted to. I wanted to spill out everything that had happened and beg someone to help me figure it out.

  A cop stormed his way over, his eyes fixed on the guy who sat next to me. “Erkens. Who let you in here?” he asked like the guy had snuck past them or something.

  I turned to look more fully at him, seeing that the guy was my dad’s age with a weathered face and hard eyes. He was a little overweight and had jowls that made him resemble a bulldog. His expression was quite a bit like the dog as well.

  Erkens didn’t look at all bothered by the younger cop’s attitude toward him. He made an imperious motion over the guy’s shoulder. “If you have a problem with me being here, take it up with the Chief. He’s the one who called me in,” he said, turning his eyes to look at me when the younger cop turned to do just that. “You were about to tell me what you saw.”

  I looked away from him, my eyes fixed on Ian. There was a dazed look on his face, his hands as shaky as mine had been. I wanted to talk to him more than anything. The trouble was, his admirers were all around him.

  Like he sensed my gaze, he looked over and our eyes met. Pain. Grief. Anger. His eyes could never lie.

  He stepped away from the girls and walked over, sitting down in the chair on my other side, his elbows on his knees. He didn’t speak. He never did when his emotions were as strong as they seemed to be.

  I laid my hand on his arm before looking at the guy named Erkens. “Who are you?” I breathed, not sure if he was a reporter or what.

  He took a wallet from his front pocket and pulled out a business card. “I’m an investigator, TC Erkens,” he said and motioned toward the gurney that was being loaded into the ambulance. “Could you please tell me what you saw?” he asked, his voice far more of an order than a request.