by S Doyle
Custody. Fitz was in custody.
“Beth! Did you hear?”
I could hear Star calling my name as she rushed into the kitchen only to find me watching the news already.
She stood behind me. “You’ve seen.”
“Yes,” I said dully.
“And you know it’s Wick who was hit.”
“Yes.”
“And that people are saying it was Fitz’s car.”
I turned and glared at her. “He didn’t do it, Star.”
“Beth, I get it. You don’t want it to be him. But it was his car, his license plate. There was a witness, and everyone knows how Fitz felt about Wick. I’m not saying he was trying to kill him or anything…”
“Star!” I snapped. “Will you listen to yourself? You’re saying Fitz drove his car into Wick’s to purposefully run him off the road! Are you insane?”
“After what Wick did to Gigi?” Star said it as if I had to leave his guilt open as a possibility.
I rejected that. “No, he punched him in the face for what he did to Gigi.”
“And he also thinks Wick is behind the Freshman Bait List,” Star said as if she was ticking off his obvious motivations.
“He was looking for proof. Actual proof. He wanted to put an end to the List not to Wick!”
“You’re defending him because he’s your boyfriend.”
“I’m defending him because I know he didn’t do this! He’s far too…logical to do something like this. Fitz doesn’t lose his cool. Ever. He knows what it means to be the son of high-profile parents.”
“Correction,” Star said. “He doesn’t lose his cool unless it comes to his sister and you. Everyone in school knows your name was recently added that stupid list. He did this to Wick out of some sick revenge for you.”
“No,” I said, turning off the news. “He didn’t. He wouldn’t. If he was going to confront Wick, he would do face to face. Not by doing something as cowardly as using his car as a battering ram.”
“Just don’t let that blind loyalty make you totally blind if the truth comes out and he did do it. I have to go. We’re having a Saturday morning cheer squad practice. But if you need me, text me.”
Star left the kitchen but I stayed rooted to the spot in front of the TV.
I knew I was right. This wasn’t like Fitz at all. Not that the police were going to understand. They had a witness who saw his car. They would have an entire school full of witnesses who had seen Fitz either threaten Wick or physically assault him at a party. It would all look so neat.
A high school feud that went too far.
Yeah, too neat.
I needed to think this through. Someone must have taken Fitz’s car. It was the only explanation. At some point after the football game and before he came to pick me up at The Club. He’d been at The Woods hours before he came to pick me up. It had to have happened then. If the police, or even Wick, knew the exact time of the accident, and Fitz could find someone to say he was at The Woods at that time, then it would prove his car had been stolen.
Or was it even simpler than that? Fitz loaned his car out to his friends all the time.
I let out a breath of relief. If my assumption was correct, and I knew it was, and there was no way that Fitz could have done this, then all he needed was an actual alibi for the time of the accident. And a reasonable explanation of who might have been driving his car at that time. I pulled my phone out of my back pocket.
I’d sent several texts to him last night after he’d dropped me off. None of which he’d answered, understandably. I had no idea how long the police had kept him, but I also knew his mother was a good enough lawyer she wouldn’t allow him to say anything that would give the police enough evidence to charge him.
I tried again.
Me: Are you home?
Then it happened. I saw the dots. Now I wanted to kiss whoever invented those damn dots.
Fitz: Yes.
Me: Is it over?
Fitz: No. No matter what happens. You have to know I didn’t do this.
Me: I KNOW you didn’t do it. Why do they think you did?
Fitz: Can’t really talk about it. My mom doesn’t want me to say anything until I talk to a lawyer. Just don’t believe anything you hear.
Me: I won’t. I know you would never do this. We just have to prove it. Someone set you up.
Fitz: Yes.
Me: Who?
Fitz: ?
Shit. That wasn’t good.
Me: Why are they doing this?
Fitz: I guess because of the List. Because I’m trying to stop it.
Me: What can I do?
Fitz: Talk to Locke. See if he’s found out anything. Tell him I’ll owe him another favor.
Me: On it.
Fitz
I put my phone in my pocket and folded my arms over my chest while my father paced in front of me. My mom was still on a conference call with a lawyer who had been recommended to her by a former colleague at the Justice Department.
“Tell me you didn’t do this,” my dad said.
“I didn’t do it.”
He stopped. Then looked at me. “You know, you can tell me if you did this. We will still get you out of this mess. At worst, all they’re going to be able to charge you with is leaving the scene of an accident.”
The witness had told the police it looked intentional, but that would be difficult to prove just based on a bystander’s word alone. It’s not like he could actually see intent.
Not that I cared.
I held my hands up. “I didn’t do it. I wasn’t there. I didn’t hit Wick with my car. End of story.”
He frowned and sat next to me on the couch, his elbows on his knees.
“Fitz…the video.”
“I don’t care,” I exploded. Pushing myself off the couch. Now it was my turn to pace. “I know. I watched it, too. Me, in my car crossing over Kings Highway at 8:12 pm. Except I was still at The Woods then.”
“They’ve got your face,” he said dully.
“Yes, because it was me. But not at that time! I was going to pick up Beth at The Club. That was like at least two and a half hours later. I swear to God I did not hit Wick with my car. With my fist, fuck yes. A car? You know me! You know I wouldn’t pull weak ass shit like that.”
My dad sighed. “Gigi told us what happened at the party. If you thought you were protecting your sister—”
“No,” I stopped him. “Do not try to make any excuses for something I didn’t do. There is something wrong with the time stamp on the video. That’s all this is.”
“We have representation,” my mother announced, walking into the room. Even on her day off, she still looked like a senator. Slacks, silk blouse, her hair and makeup done, despite us all having spent most of the night at the police station.
“If he’s charged,” she said.
“When he’s charged,” my dad said. “It’s not going to matter who his parents are, Aggie. He’s black, which means he’s already half a criminal in their minds. This is just the push they need to tell themselves they were right all along.”
“Can we hold off on the black man outrage for a moment while we deal with the issue at hand?”
“No, Aggie,” my dad said. “I cannot hold off. I live with the outrage every day. And do you want to know why?”
“Because you’re a black man,” she said. This was not the first angry black man speech my dad had given.
“Because I’m a black man! And it doesn’t matter that I’m married to the high-powered senator, or that I live in the fancy house, in the fancy town and I drive the fancy cars. My son is black. Which will forever make him a suspect in the minds of the police.”
My mom chose not to respond and looked at me instead. “Did you do this, Fitz? If you did, just tell us now. We can help you.”
“I did not. And if I did, I wouldn’t lie about it. The time on the video is wrong. I was at that intersection. But not until after ten-thirty, maybe eleven, when I left th
e party to go pick up Beth.”
“You think someone took your car then?”
“The keys were in it,” I sighed. “A bunch of people probably knew that. Was there time for someone to take my car, hit Wick and drop it back off…yes.”
My mother pressed her lips together, looking directly at me. “I believe you.”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. It would have been easy given the evidence to think I’d done it. But I needed my parents at least to know I wasn’t a liar.
My parents and Beth.
She nodded. “Okay. Then let’s change focus. If they charge you—”
“When,” my dad said.
“When they charge you,” my mother conceded, “we’ll get you out as soon as possible on bail. So I don’t want you to be afraid. I’ll walk you through every second of what will happen at the police station and then in court.”
“You going to walk him through what handcuffs feel like, too?” my dad asked.
At this point he was just being a jerk, but my mother wasn’t going to rise to the bait.
“If you’re right about the time on the video being wrong, then we’ll have to find someone who can prove that. Your lawyer will do that. He’ll make sure he has a forensics expert as well a private investigator on the case. After all, someone did this on purpose, right? Set you up. We have to find out why.”
I sighed and closed my eyes. This was going to suck, but it was time to tell them. Everything.
“I know why,” I said.
Both of my parents looked at me, then at each other.
“Start talking, Fitz,” my dad told me.
And I did.
Beth
Locke’s place wasn’t what I was expecting. I glanced down at the address Reen had reluctantly given me.
Reen: He won’t tell you anything. He doesn’t work like that.
Me: What does that even mean?
Reen: Locke is different. He’s not like us.
Me: I don’t care. Fitz told me to start with him. That’s what I’m doing.
Reen: I get you want to help your boyfriend, just don’t be too disappointed.
Me: What’s going on with you and Locke anyway?
Reen: No comment.
I hadn’t necessarily understood her response, but I didn’t press it. She texted me his address and I didn’t hesitate. I was out the door my mom’s SUV keys in hand. Technically, speaking, I only had a permit and wasn’t supposed to be driving without a supervising adult. But Mom was out to lunch with a friend who had picked her up. And Star, who’d recently been commandeering the SUV as hers, must have had someone from the cheer squad pick her up for practice, which was my luck.
I could have walked but this was faster, and it just felt like I needed to hurry. Like I was racing against a clock.
I pulled up in front of a row of townhomes located in the only section of the town that had them. Two neat rows across the street from one another, adjacent to the hub of downtown Haddonfield known as Kings Court.
The nonresidential part of Haddonfield was a mile-long stretch of niche boutiques, BYOB restaurants, a Starbucks and jewelry stores. Lots and lots of jewelry stores.
Most of these businesses were run by bored housewives of rich husbands who didn’t mind using the business losses as a tax write-off. These women were far more ambitious than the home-party candle-selling variety, but they were just as unsuccessful. As a result, the storefronts of Haddonfield were forever in constant flux except for the Starbucks and the jewelry stores.
This part of town was also within five minutes walking distance to the Speedline. A light rail that ran through South Jersey across the bridge to center city Philadelphia. Which made Haddonfield an ideal location for a man working at the University of Penn, while his younger brother was afforded what was basically considered the equivalent of a private education.
It should have made sense, but it didn’t.
Locke didn’t strike me as someone who would be so posh as to live in the elegant townhome. It was all so suburban and normal, whereas he conveyed an aura of someone who was distinctly other.
Before I could get out of the car, the front door to his home opened and Locke stepped out and waved me inside.
I frowned. Reen must have told him I was coming. I got out of the car and walked toward him.
He was dressed in his typical black shirt, black jeans and black sneakers, which, to my eye, always made his complexion seem really pale. But I felt like something was missing.
His vaping pen. Perfect, I thought. Maybe I wouldn’t be dealing with a stoned Locke for a change.
Not that his vaping habits had ever seemed to impair his thought process.
“I heard you coming,” he announced, stating what I already suspected.
“Reen told you.”
He shook his head confused. “No. No, I heard you coming. Your mother’s car makes a specifically pitched squeaking noise whenever the brakes are applied. On that subject, you should probably get the car in for a tune-up fairly soon.”
He could tell my mother’s car from the sound of the brakes. Reen was right. He wasn’t like us.
“Do you know why I’m here?” I asked.
“Of course I know why you’re here. I know everything. Come in, my brother’s not here so we have privacy.”
I was grateful his brother wasn’t at home. I didn’t have the energy to play polite fellow high school student Beth Bennet. I wanted to get to the heart of the problem quickly and share any information I could about Fitz.
“Fitz is asking for your help. He says he’ll owe you another favor.”
Locke stepped back and allowed me to enter what was a small but beautifully decorated formal living room. I took a seat and oddly crossed my feet at the ankles, like my mother had often instructed when visiting with company. I thought the gesture ridiculous, but in this elegant living room, in this posh townhome with a British Locke it seemed appropriate.
Locke remained standing. “He’s going to have a hard time repaying favors if he’s been escorted off to jail.”
“That’s never going to happen. Regardless of what the police think they have as evidence, Senator Darcy is not going to let her son spend a day in jail.”
“You think she wields that kind of power? Power over the law.”
“No. She wields the power of the law. Trust me, whatever she does will be legal, but it won’t end with Fitz in prison. However, I don’t want it to even get that far. He didn’t do it. We need to find proof. He thought you could help. Can you?”
He placed his finger and thumb along his chin and stroked it as if it was a long habit.
After a moment of silence, he announced. “I have gotten hold of the police report.”
The words shocked me, but maybe they shouldn’t have.
He’s not like us.
Or maybe it was simpler than that. I smiled and nodded. “You are a narc, aren’t you? How old are you really?”
There was a wisp of a smile. “I’m not working for the police if that’s what you’re asking. Let’s just say someone owed me a favor. Do you want to know their evidence or not?”
“Yes.”
“An eyewitness saw Darcy’s car intentionally ram into the back of Wick’s, forcing it off the road. Said witness also provided a partial license plate number. Matching paint samples from Wick’s car on Darcy’s bumper. And video footage of Darcy at an intersection very close to the accident exactly two minutes before the accident occurred.”
I frowned at the mention of video footage. That couldn’t be right. There couldn’t be an actual video if he didn’t do it.
“Having doubts about your boyfriend now?”
I was biting my bottom lip and stopped. “No. Not at all. The video is wrong.”
“It’s not wrong,” he said. “It’s simply been altered.”
Again, I found myself dumbfounded. “How can you possibly know that?”
He shrugged. “I have a tendency
to see things others don’t. This wasn’t particularly hard.”
I leapt to my feet. “That’s great then! You can go to the police and show them how it’s wrong and Fitz is off free and clear. If someone was willing to alter video, then it’s definitely a set up.”
Locke frowned. “I can’t do that.”
“What? Why not?”
“I don’t want to tip off the person who I suspect is behind the alteration that I’m on to him. Or her.”
“No,” I said, rejecting that excuse. “I don’t care who is responsible. We can worry about that after we clear Fitz.”
Again, Locke frowned at me. “I don’t recall there being a we involved. There is a game, a much bigger game than you know, being played in this town and I’m of a mind to figure it out. What does or doesn’t happen to Fitz is of no matter to me. Besides, any reasonably competent investigator, which I’m sure his lawyer will hire to look into the matter, should spot it.”
I had to swallow my frustration. “Yes, but that will take time. The police might have arrested him by then. That will stick to him. It won’t matter if he’s eventually found not guilty. He’ll always be known as the Darcy kid who got arrested.”
“Sorry.” Lock shrugged.
I took in a deep breath and tried to think with a clear head. I was QB One’s girlfriend. Maybe it was time I acted like it.
Taking a few steps toward Locke I put on my most imperious expression. One I used to reserve for Fitz himself.
“You can play your games, Locke. But remember this, you go to Haddonfield High. That’s Fitz’s kingdom. Where he is considered a king. And now I am his queen. Which means I have the power to make your life a living hell. You will never successfully navigate a hallway without incident. You will never know what you might find when you open your locker. No girl will come within ten feet of you and any thoughts you might have had of a social life will be moot.”
