The Foxglove Killings

by Tara Kelly

  After checking on Gavin, who was glued to some cartoon on TV, I grabbed the phone and dialed Alex’s number. I cringed when his grandma answered with a curt tone.

  “Hey, Cindy. Is Alex there?”

  “It’s barely eight in the morning.”

  “I know. I’m sorry—”

  “You left a message at eleven o’clock last night,” she continued over me. “It is extremely rude to call at all hours like this.”

  I closed my eyes, gritting my teeth. “It’s really important I talk to him.”

  “If it’s about the fire at that girl’s house, I’ll tell him when he gets up. He was working ’til late—didn’t even come out of his room when those sirens were blaring.”

  Alex was really lucky her arthritic fingers couldn’t pick locks anymore. “So, you haven’t seen him yet? I mean, since yesterday?”

  “No, why?”

  The queasy feeling inside me intensified. “Just wondered. Is Megan up by chance?”

  “She’s right here. But if you keep calling like this, I’m going to start unplugging the phones.”

  “I understand.” It seemed to take forever for her to hand the phone to Megan. With each passing second, my skin grew a little colder.

  “Hey,” Megan whispered. “You need to stop calling so early.”

  It was hard not to want to reach through the phone and hug her. But I couldn’t let her see what I knew. I couldn’t act differently.

  “Can you get into Alex’s room—make sure he’s in there?” I asked.

  There was a rustling noise on her end. “His car’s here.”

  I told her he’d been at my house and took off in the middle of the night. “I want to make sure he got home okay.”

  She let out a breath of a laugh. “Oh my God. You’re like his mom sometimes.”

  I winced at that analogy.

  “Hang on,” she whispered.

  As I listened to the clicking of her sliding something through his lock, I kept my eyes closed, hoping she’d say he was there, completely conked out. At least then this kicked-in-the-stomach feeling of dread would turn to anger that he couldn’t face me in the morning. I was so ready to call him out.

  It was silent a little too long, just the sound of her breathing.

  “Megan?” I asked.

  “He’s not here.”

  “Is he in the bathroom, maybe?”

  “I’m looking at it,” she said, softly. “It’s open.”

  My lips pressed together. I didn’t want to freak her out, too…but maybe she needed to be freaked out.

  “Nova, what’s going on?” Megan asked. “Do you think the cakes did something?”

  “I don’t know… Did you hear him come home?”

  “No. I had my earphones on to block out all the noise outside. The people next door were having a party and shooting stuff off.”

  Cindy’s voice rang out in the background, asking where Alex was. Megan went silent—I could see her just standing there, looking at Cindy wide-eyed.

  “I’ll go out and look for him,” I said, my mouth so dry I could barely move my tongue. “Call my house if he shows up.”

  “Okay,” she said in a small voice before hanging up.

  Jenika was standing in my doorway, running a towel through her hair. “Look for who?” she asked.

  “Alex never made it home last night.” I said the words, but they didn’t feel real. My mind was too busy trying to find reasonable, safe explanations. He’d taken off early for a reason. And knowing Alex, that reason was he couldn’t sleep and he needed time to think. Maybe he went to one of his spots to be alone and decided to sleep there, like he did when he was a little kid.

  My gut was telling a much different story.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Let the cops handle it,” Mom said, when I told her I wanted to look for Alex. She’d never buy my and Jenika’s going out together otherwise.

  “I don’t even know if Cindy called them.”

  She turned on the sink, washing off a colander full of blueberries. “If Alex truly is missing, it’s not a good idea to go looking for him on your own. I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”

  “Thanks for the concern. But I don’t really need your permission.” Jenika laced up her boot at a rapid-fire pace.

  Mom spun around, her lips in a firm line. “Actually, you do. We’re legally responsible for you until your mom is out of the hospital.”

  “So, if I get eaten by wild bears or psycho killers, you can tell them I snuck out,” she answered.

  “That’s not funny,” Mom said.

  Jenika hoisted her backpack over her shoulders. “They might never catch this killer. Are we supposed to hide under our beds for the rest of our lives?”

  Mom wrapped her left hand around her right arm. It was her go-to move whenever she was in defense mode. “I’ll say it again—maybe you’ll hear me this time. It’s not safe.”

  “Nothing’s safe,” Jenika said. “Just ask my mom. She was asleep in her house, minding her own business, when someone torched our living room.”

  Mom’s mouth opened and closed again, her eyes widening. “Did the investigators say it was set on purpose?”

  “They don’t have to. I know it was.”

  “How?” Mom pressed.

  “I just do.”

  Mom’s eyes flickered to me, doubt in her expression. A house fire on the Fourth of July wasn’t all that uncommon, even around here. Plus, Anya was a chain smoker. As much as I wanted to tell her that Jenika wasn’t paranoid, I couldn’t. She’d only want to pull the reins tighter.

  “Look,” Mom said. “I’ve got to go in to the diner for a few hours. If Alex hasn’t turned up by this afternoon, I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

  “I can’t just sit here, waiting around,” I said. “And I’m not going to.”

  “My friend Matt can borrow his mom’s car,” Jenika said. “I’ll have him pick us up and escort us around like it’s 1857, okay?”

  Mom’s jaw tensed, as if she was holding back her own snippy comment. There was defeat in her expression. She knew I was going, short of her chaining me to a door. “Take the phone and the Taser. I call, you answer. Got it?”

  I nodded. It was bad enough being alone with Jenika. Adding Matt to the mix made me nervous. But the only other person I could call was Brandon and he was working today.

  “Is your mom always this insanely overprotective?” Jenika asked as we waited on the porch for Matt. “I mean, there’s little old ladies out power walking right now.”

  I had my doubts about that. It wasn’t as if the entire town went into hiding, but I’d noticed subtle differences. More people walked in groups, even if they weren’t actually together. There was less eye contact and more silence. “She’s been like this ever since they found Amber.”

  “Have you heard that rumor, about Alex being seen with Amber before she went missing?” she asked, lighting a cigarette.

  “He told you?”

  Jenika shook her head. “It’s been making the rounds.” She tilted her head up, exhaling smoke toward the low clouds in the sky. “Why Alex? I don’t get it.”

  “Because, like I said, Zach is convinced he’s the devil incarnate…”

  “He’s convinced or he wants to convince?”

  “Both.” The chilly marine air was back, making my bones ache. I was wearing Alex’s pullover, the one he gave me a few days ago at the park. His scent had faded, but every now and then I’d pick up a whiff that made me clutch the rough black fabric tighter.

  “Strangulation is a slow way to take someone out,” she said, spitting over her shoulder. “You really have to commit.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “You think Zach could go through with it?”

  I felt like I’d answered that question a million times this week, but my answer hadn’t changed. Even with how hell-bent he was on pinning this on Alex. Even after seeing how disturbed he truly was with my own eyes. I wasn�
�t afraid of him. Not even a little. Right now my only fear was not finding Alex.

  “Zach needs someone to do his dirty work for him,” I said.

  “He broke into your room, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah. While I slept. He probably would’ve pissed his pants if I woke up.”

  She took another drag. “That’s tough talk for someone who looked like she was gonna piss her pants when she saw that video.”

  “You don’t agree?”

  “Taking Zach at face value? Sure.”

  “You don’t think Christian’s a lot more capable?” I watched for even the slightest twitch in her expression.

  She lifted her cigarette to her mouth, but she didn’t take a drag. Her eyes narrowed at something in the distance. “If he was gonna off someone around here, it’d be one of us.”

  My chest tensed again, my fingers growing cold. “You think he set that fire?”

  “Think?” she asked, her cigarette-holding hand still frozen in place. “I know he did.”

  I remembered the last thing Christian said to us, with that mocking tone. Tell Jenika I said hi.

  Matt pulled into our driveway, coming to an abrupt stop. His beloved hard-core punk screeched out the open windows of his mom’s old red Honda, a mash of jittery guitars, shouting, and rabid drum beats.

  His face scrunched up as he watched me walking toward the car. “This is different,” he said with a smirk.

  “I’ll take the backseat,” I said, ignoring him.

  “Nah.” Jenika opened the back passenger door before I could get to it. “It’s way more comfortable up front.” She got in without even giving me a chance to protest.

  There was a baby seat next to her, leaving the front my only option. I didn’t trust getting in the car with them, much less having my back turned on Jenika.

  Matt turned the music down. “You coming or not?”

  “Relax,” Jenika said. “We’re not going to kill you.” Her eyes widened in faux innocence. “Your mom would know who did it.”

  I got in, keeping my hand on the Taser in my pocket, not that it would do a whole hell of a lot.

  I told Matt to drive to Rainbow Creek Park first; it was the closest, and it was the place Alex ran away to most often when he was a kid. His grandpa would find him in his sleeping bag on the grass next to the creek.

  The park was almost as quiet as it was when I met Alex here the other day. Only this time we passed a couple walking their dog and a guy sitting alone, feeding the ducks. He looked about our age, even had light brown hair, like Alex’s. I kept hoping if I blinked enough it would turn out to be him.

  “Why are you guys so sure he’s missing?” Matt asked, trailing behind Jenika and me.

  “She is,” Jenika said. “I’m not ready to panic yet.”

  “Is that why you wanted to bolt out of the house with me?” I asked.

  “I wanted to get the hell out of there.”

  I wasn’t buying that. Jenika would sooner wear a pink dress in public than willingly go anywhere with me.

  “When’s the last time you saw him?” Matt asked.

  “Two thirty this morning,” I said, knowing full well how paranoid I probably seemed.

  Matt snorted. “The guy can’t take care of himself for a few hours?”

  “Christian cornered Megan at Oswald Beach last night. And then he, Zach, and this other guy tried to jump us when we picked her up. If they saw him walking alone…” I closed my eyes, trying not to go there. A lot of the cakes were probably convinced that Alex killed Amber by now. Any of them could’ve done something to him.

  “What do you mean he cornered her?” Jenika said, her voice sharp.

  I told them briefly what happened. They went quiet for a minute, Jenika falling into step behind me. I could feel the heat of their stares and the weight of their thoughts on my back.

  “Ray Munoz told me he saw a newer Ram 3500 right before the fire started,” Matt said. “He thinks it was a Laramie Longhorn.”

  “Why’s that significant?” I asked.

  “Because it’s a fifty-thousand-dollar truck.” He said it like I was an idiot for not knowing the ins and outs of pickups. “Ray said it was circling around the lanes—drove past his house twice.”

  I wanted to tell him that was the more significant detail, but I held my tongue.

  “What color was it?” Jenika asked.

  “He just said dark.”

  “That’s kind of a cowboy truck for a cake,” she continued.

  I couldn’t think of anyone in Christian’s circle who drove a big pickup, but that didn’t mean anything. I didn’t know most of their names, either.

  “Did you guys try tracking Christian down after the fire?” I asked.

  “His house was dark and his car was in the driveway,” Matt said. “The jackass has motion lights and cameras, though. We couldn’t get too close.”

  We headed down the narrow gravel trail until it curved away from the creek. It eventually connected to the Neahkahnie Mountain Trail, a path that ran all the way up into the foothills. But Alex liked to be by the creek.

  “What are you going to do when you find him?” I asked.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Jenika said.

  The shadows of tree branches extended across the path like fingers lacing together. I was too aware of the fading light, Matt and Jenika’s measured footsteps behind me, and the complete lack of any other sound.

  “Alex isn’t here,” I said, turning and facing them.

  “Do you have some kind of Alex detector on you?” Matt asked, a half smile on his face.

  “I just know him.”

  Jenika threw her hands up. “Where to next, then?”

  “How many places we going?” Matt asked, glancing around like he heard something. “I’ve gotta get the car back by eleven.”

  “I’ll keep looking by myself,” I said. I’d stick to the public streets in town, instead of taking shortcuts on the trails.

  “It’s not eleven yet,” Jenika said. “Where else are we going?”

  “Why are you—” I began.

  “I’m not doing this for you,” she said. “I’m doing this for Alex.”

  Matt bumped his arm into hers. “What, are you in love with him now?”

  “Oh, yeah. That’s it.” She turned and walked the other way, her shoulders stiff.

  I’d never considered that Jenika might have real feelings for Alex. Probably because I couldn’t imagine her having real feelings for anyone. But what if she did?

  We checked the parking lot of the old Pacific Sunrise motel, a place where he skated sometimes, Neahkahnie Park, the old Emerald Bay Dock, where you can watch sea lions without the twenty-dollar cover charge, and the Deception Creek Trail behind their trailer park. Each time, I held my breath, hoping I’d see him sitting or wandering around, his hoodie pulled over his head so he could hide from the world. I even called up his Uncle Joel in Portland.

  But he was nowhere to be found.

  After walking down the Deception Creek Trail, Jenika and I went to Alex’s house, trying his window first. When he didn’t answer, I already knew…he wasn’t there. We knocked on the front door anyway, and Megan answered, her eyes wide and expectant.

  “Did you find him?” she asked.

  “No.” My voice came out cracked. It felt like someone was pushing on my chest, applying more pressure every time I inhaled.

  “It’s his birthday…” Megan trailed off, noticing Jenika for the first time.

  “I know,” I said.

  Jenika shifted her weight, keeping her gaze down. It was the first time I’d seen her look

  even remotely uncomfortable.

  “Grandma’s making him a cake right now.”

  Even though he never came home last night. She really was losing her mind. “You guys should call the police,” I said.

  Megan looked over her shoulder and came outside, pulling the door shut. “They had a huge fight yesterday, about getting the car scratch
es taken care of. He told her he doesn’t have the money yet. She was like, ‘If you had any respect for your grandfather, it never would’ve happened in the first place.’ Then he tore out of here.”

  “She knows where to hit, doesn’t she…” I said.

  Megan exhaled, folding her arms. “Yeah. Well. She thinks he’s staying out to spite her.”

  “So she’s baking him a cake?” Jenika asked.

  Megan shrugged, keeping her focus on me. “It’s probably one more thing she can hold over his head.”

  “Let me talk to her,” I said.

  “It’s not going to…” she started to protest, but I was already pushing past her and opening the door.

  Cindy was in the kitchen, stirring batter in a mixing bowl by hand. Flour peppered her arms and heat-reddened chest. It wasn’t all that warm inside, but her forehead and neck were glistening, and her breaths were heavy, like she was jogging in place.

  A pang of guilt hit me in the stomach. I wanted to yell at her, but defeat was in her every movement, from her limp wrists to the way she’d fruitlessly blow at the stray hairs in her face.

  “Mrs. Pace,” I said, approaching the counter.

  “Oh. Hello.” Her sharp blue eyes roamed from me to Jenika. “I’m sorry about your home,” she said. “Did you have insurance?”

  Most people would ask if she was okay, if her mom was okay. But that was Cindy.

  Jenika nodded, but she didn’t respond otherwise.

  Cindy turned her attention to me. “Alex still isn’t home.”

  “And we can’t find him,” I said. “We’ve looked everywhere he likes to go.”

  She stopped stirring, her mouth puckering, and turned to get some vanilla out of the cabinet. “He thinks he’s teaching me a lesson, stayin’ out like this.”

  “If that were true, I’d know where he is.”

  She poured the vanilla into a teaspoon. “Really? Can’t say I’ve seen much of you this summer.”

  “Something is wrong,” I said, ignoring the sting of her comment. “I know it.”

  The spoon fell through her swollen fingers. It sank into the bowl, bit by bit, until the handle disappeared into the brown sludge. “He used to do this all the time, remember? Give him a few more hours. He’ll be back.”