I blinked. Had he somehow already gotten his hands on the certificate? No. His expression didn’t exactly make me feel like good news was on its way.
He shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “I suspected this, since everything else he told you was a lie. But I didn’t want to say anything until I could be sure.”
The jagged edge of the car keys bit into my palm as I closed my fist. “What is it?”
“I called the Littlefield Town Hall and asked them to look up the death certificate for Flynn Parkman. They don’t have one.”
“I thought you said they would have to because he died in their town.”
“That’s the law, yeah.”
“So what does this mean?” Toni asked.
Cooper met my gaze. “It can be only one of two things. Either your boyfriend’s name wasn’t Flynn Parkman . . . or he’s not dead.”
CHAPTER 14
I brought Toni home and collapsed on the couch in my empty house. Nothing was what it seemed. Flynn had done nothing but lie to me, maybe even about his own name. And who’d sent a picture of me to Evan?
A dark, awful thought wriggled into my brain like a parasite. What if no one had sent that photo? What if Evan took it himself and wrote the warning to get me to trust him? It was a nutball theory, but it wasn’t crazier than anything else that was going on.
My cell rang. I gazed down at the number. Speak of the devil.
I held the phone in my hand, suddenly unsure. My finger hovered over the answer button. I let it ring two more times, then, in one jerky motion, hit the green button and put the phone to my ear.
“Hey, Evan.”
“Um, hey.” He sounded nervous. Not in a suspicious way. More like that adorable “boy on the phone” way. I forced myself to focus.
“I was just calling to see if you’d gotten anywhere with the, um, death-certificate thing. But if you’re busy, I can call you back. Or you can call me when you’re—”
“It was a bust,” I cut in. I told him what we’d found out, and the two choices I was left with. Flynn was never Flynn . . . or he was still alive.
“So what are you going to do now?” he asked.
“I don’t know what I can do. I can’t just walk into the hospital and start asking questions. They have all those patient privacy rules.”
“What about the cops?” he said. “River’s End is where the hit-and-run happened, right? The police would have details, because they investigated it.”
“Yeah, but . . . can I just walk into a police station and start asking questions?” It was probably more public than private info, but this wasn’t like bothering Cooper at his after-school job.
“We’re in this together, right?” Evan asked.
That awful thought popped up again. That Evan might not have been telling me the whole truth. But what other choice did I have?
“Yeah,” I said. “Of course.”
“Then let me pick you up after school tomorrow. I have an idea that might get us some answers.”
• • •
Evan said he was coming to my house right after school. I knew we got out at the same time, but he had to come from Littlefield. So I had time to drop Toni off first, ignoring her repeated requests to come with us, and then ignoring her accusations that I wanted to go alone with Evan not because it was simpler, but because I wanted to “mack out on his face” in the car.
Now I sat on my front steps, left leg bouncing up and down. I wondered if maybe I should wait inside. If sitting on the steps made me look too desperate. But it wasn’t a date. I shouldn’t have cared how anxious I looked. Before I could change my mind, his gray sedan turned the corner and slid into my driveway, sunlight glinting off the windshield. Right on time.
I got in the passenger side. The car smelled nice, clean. I clicked the seat belt into place, feeling Evan’s eyes on me every second. I glanced over, and it was the first time I saw him and didn’t have a rush of Flynn memories. He was completely Evan to me now. A separate person, despite the looks.
“Ready to go?” he asked with a grin. And there was that feeling again. His smile kick-started a butterfly convention in my stomach.
“As soon as you tell me where we’re going,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.
He carefully backed out of my driveway and turned onto the road. “The River’s End Police Department.”
“We’re just going to march in and start asking questions?”
“Nope. I told you I could help. I know somebody there. Or, rather, my family does. We can ask him anything. He won’t mind.”
I nervously ran my hand up and down the seat belt. I wasn’t completely comfortable with the idea, but whatever got us answers. “Okay, let’s do it.”
Minutes later we were downtown, parked, and walking into the station. The building was small and quiet, not like those loud, busy police stations you see on TV. A receptionist sat behind a heavy glass window.
I hung back as Evan approached her. “Can I speak with Officer Reck, please?”
She barely glanced up. “Your name?”
“Evan Murphy.”
The receptionist lifted the phone to her ear, muttered a few quick words into the receiver, and then placed it back down. “He’ll be with you in just a moment.”
I busied myself by staring at the memos and flyers posted on a bulletin board. There was an out-of-date winter street parking ban, a trash-dumping notice, pedestrian street-crossing safety guidelines, and a sheet with the FBI’s top ten most wanted, including thumbnail photos. As if any of them would be in River’s End.
The door to the lobby opened, and an intimidating-looking man in police blues entered the room. Evan was tall and athletically built, but this guy dwarfed him. He was the size of an NFL linebacker. His head was shaved. The lines carved into his face placed him in his midforties. And, at the sight of Evan, he broke into a huge smile. I had the feeling it was something most people didn’t get to see.
He gave Evan a pat on the shoulder that probably would’ve knocked me over. “How’s it going, little man?”
“Great!” Evan said. “It’s good to see you.”
“I probably shouldn’t call you little man anymore, though, huh? You’re bigger than your dad now, I bet.”
“I am.”
“Still hitting those balls over the fence?”
“Every game.”
“Atta boy.” Officer Reck glanced over at me. “Who’s the beauty? Your girlfriend?”
Evan blushed. “Um, no, this is—”
“I’m his friend,” I cut in.
“That’s too bad.” He gave Evan a meaningful look. Evan’s face turned even redder.
“We’re actually here for me,” I said, wanting to end Evan’s torture. “I was hoping to find out something about a death that happened about three months ago?”
He slid a palm over his giant dome of a head. “What death is that?”
“A hit-and-run on a teenaged boy. On Lincoln Road.”
Nodding slowly, he said, “I remember that. Follow me.”
He turned and led us down a narrow hallway. Evan and I followed closely. He pointed to a small desk that was strewn with Styrofoam coffee cups and papers. “Have a seat there. Don’t mind the mess. Maid’s day off.”
I sat stiffly in a hard plastic chair while Evan settled into the one beside me. “So he’s a family friend?” I whispered.
“Yeah. He and my dad go way back. I thought he could help.”
A moment later the cop returned with a file in his hand. He sat down on the other side of the desk, the chair groaning beneath him. He opened the file and read quietly for a moment, I assumed reacquainting himself with the case. Then he snapped the folder shut.
“Okay, what are you here to find out?” he asked.
Only everything, I thought. My
throat tightened as I prepared to ask the question.
Evan leaned forward in the chair and asked before I could. “Did the boy die?”
The officer looked from Evan to me and back. “Can I ask why you want to know?”
I exhaled hard. “He was my boyfriend.”
“And you don’t know if he’s dead or alive?” he asked skeptically.
“I thought he was dead . . .” I stopped myself. I didn’t want to get into every little detail. “But, long story short, either he’s alive or he gave me a fake name.”
Officer Reck tapped his fingers against the folder. “What did he say his name was?”
“Flynn Parkman.”
He looked at me differently then. With pity, perhaps. He opened his mouth, and before the words came out, I knew what they were. I could feel them slithering around me, tightening across my chest.
“I’m sorry to be the one to break the bad news,” he began. “The boy is dead. He died at the Littlefield Medical Center. And his name wasn’t Flynn Parkman.”
A hole opened in my heart. Grief, betrayal, all the emotions I’d felt over the last few days rushed through me. He was dead and a liar. Evan kept glancing at me, as if to make sure I was all right. I didn’t want to lose it. Not here, not now.
I forced the words out of my throat. “What was his real name?”
The officer glanced down at the file. “James Bergeron.”
James, I thought. So classic, so ordinary. It sounded wrong in my mind. But the Flynn in my mind wasn’t real. James was real. That’s who he was whether I liked it or not.
“Is his family still living in town?” I asked.
Officer Reck shook his head. “He was a runaway.”
My head rocked back. I knew his family life had been bad; he’d told me as much. But to run away? “Does his family know that he’s dead?”
A dark look crossed the officer’s face. Not pity, something worse. “He had no family.”
My breath caught. “What?”
“He lived in a foster home in New Hampshire and—for unknown reasons—left and settled somewhere in the area here.”
A thousand possibilities ran through my mind. Had he stopped here on his way to somewhere else, met me, and stayed? Was he always planning to move on? Is that why he’d broken up with me? He was ready to go on to the next town and keep running . . .
Or had he chosen River’s End on purpose and I was merely a complication? If so, why had he been here?
Officer Reck crossed his meaty hands on top of the desk. “When you and this boy were together, where did he bring you? What was his address?”
I chewed my lip. “Um, he was . . . private. He said his family life was bad. So he only came to my house. I never went to his.”
“Where did you meet?”
For some reason, I didn’t want to share that. I wanted to keep one thing for myself. And a gut feeling deep down told me to lie. “At Happy Time Mini Golf,” I blurted.
I could see Evan looking at me out of the corner of my eye. He was probably wondering why I hadn’t mentioned that when we were sitting there on the bench Saturday. I could see the distrust start to creep back into his expression.
I didn’t like how this had changed from me asking questions to me being questioned. I’d gotten what I came for. There was no reason to stick around.
I stood and held out my hand. “Thanks for your help, Officer Reck. I’ll let you get back to work now.”
He stood slowly, as if reluctant to let me go. He took my hand and shook it, gently, but I still felt like I was facing off against a bear.
I started walking back toward the lobby, not even waiting for Evan. He caught up with me outside, halfway to the car.
“Sorry,” he said, slowing his jog to a walk. “I had to say my good-byes.”
“No problem. I just wanted to get out of there. I know the truth now.” I stopped by the passenger side of his car, but Evan made no move to unlock the door.
He stared at me, through me. “You lied to him about the mini-golf place.”
I answered simply. “Yes.”
“Why?” He didn’t ask where Flynn and I had met. He only wanted to know why I’d lied to the cop.
“I don’t know, fully,” I answered. “I just wanted to keep it to myself. That memory.”
“Is it true that James refused to ever bring you to his house?”
I winced at the name. “Can we keep calling him Flynn? James just sounds wrong.”
“Whatever you want.” He hesitated. “Is it true? He never told you anything?”
It made Flynn sound terrible. And, yes, Flynn was broody and negative and all those dark things, but—until that horrible night—he seemed to adore me. He made me feel special. Who doesn’t like feeling special? But I couldn’t explain that to Evan. It made me feel stupid. Like a dumb girl with a crush who accepted whatever scraps her boyfriend was willing to toss her.
“Yes, it’s true,” I said softly.
Surprise registered on Evan’s face. “And you put up with that?”
“What?”
“Well, it’s just that you don’t seem like the type to put up with any bull.”
I liked that he saw me that way. I tilted my chin up a little higher. “Maybe I was then. Maybe I’m changing.”
“Good,” he said, nodding. “You deserve to be treated better than that.”
I snorted. “Now you sound like Toni.”
He raised his eyebrows. “She didn’t like him?”
I smirked. “Not at all.” But it was clear now that she’d been right not to trust Flynn all along. I should’ve listened to her.
I gazed up at Evan. He was staring at me with an expression so intense, it made my knees tremble. He wanted to kiss me. I could see it in his eyes, in his slightly parted lips.
But I couldn’t give that to him, even after everything he’d done for me today. Instead, I slipped my arms around his neck and gave him a hug. I’d expected Flynn’s outdoorsy scent, but Evan smelled like soap and shampoo. Clean and fresh.
The two of them were different in every way.
I pulled back, and the look in his eye was gone.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll drive you home.”
CHAPTER 15
Back when both my parents worked down the street at Stell, we had family dinner at home five nights a week. Now, that was a rare occasion. Dad usually ate on the train on the way home from the city. Mom shoved a sandwich into her mouth while driving from one job to the next. And I helped myself to whatever I could scrounge in the cabinet. I’d been planning on heating up a can of SpaghettiOs for myself when Evan dropped me off, but my parents were actually both home.
I walked through the front door, expecting the inquisition. Where were you? Your car was in the driveway. Who were you with? But as I slid off my shoes and padded toward the kitchen, I heard it again. That insistent whispering.
They thought I was upstairs in my room.
They hadn’t even come up to say hi to me.
They were so lost in their own world that they didn’t hear my footsteps, didn’t notice me until I entered the kitchen.
Dad’s eyes widened and he gave a slight shake of his head, a silent message to Mom that it was time to stop talking about it. Whatever it was.
I stood in front of the refrigerator, where a crayon drawing I’d made of our family hung beneath a happy-face magnet. I’d made the picture when I was eight, but Mom refused to take it down.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Just trying to figure out what to make for dinner,” Mom said cheerily. But it was fake. Oh so fake.
“Were you fighting?” I posed the question to my dad since Mom was already halfway down Cover-Up Road.
“Of course not,” he said, joining her.
Mom made
for the fridge, but I didn’t budge. “Can you move, honey? I want to see what we have for food.”
“Why are you both home?” I asked. “Isn’t it early?”
“It’s a wonderful coincidence that we both got out early,” Mom said. “It’s not often we get to have family dinners anymore.”
“Yes,” Dad piped up. “Let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth.”
Wonderful. We’d moved on to clichés. Whatever was going on, they weren’t about to let me in. Not tonight anyway. I moved aside to let Mom open the fridge. She smiled with her mouth closed.
Mom quickly made spaghetti and we sat around the table, eating and talking about things that didn’t matter. The weather should be warming up soon. That tree in the backyard is dead; it’ll probably have to come down. How is the yearbook photography coming, Morgan?
I thought about telling them everything. That I had found a boy who looked just like Flynn. That Flynn had lied. That I’d been looking into his past, trying to figure out the truth. But the words stuck in my throat. I didn’t want to worry them, to add to their stress. And—I’m not proud of this—a small part of me didn’t want to share with them because I was angry that they were keeping secrets from me.
By the time I got up to my room, I had three missed calls from Toni. I crawled on top of my covers, called her back, and filled her in on everything Evan and I had found out.
“Whew.” She let out a long breath. “So how are you holding up?”
“I’m fine.”
“Hi, Morgan? This is me, Toni, your best friend. The one you actually tell the truth to.”
I let out a small laugh.
“So how about you tell me how you’re really doing?”
I shrugged, though she couldn’t see it. “Flynn was already dead, so it’s not like I’m grieving all over again.”
“But?” she prodded.
“But it hurts that he lied to me about everything. And I don’t know why. I don’t understand it.” I think that was the worst part of it. That I didn’t know why.
And meanwhile, something was going on with my parents. Something they didn’t want to burden me with. I wondered if one of them was losing their job again. If we were at risk of losing the house. My mind sprinted to all the worst-case scenarios. But I couldn’t share those worries with Toni, because she was living the family drama that I only feared.
Forget Me Page 9
