by Sara Shepard
Emma watched customers emerge from the grocery store, smiling and clutching brown paper bags, and sighed. They all looked so happy and carefree. She was pretty certain she’d be the only Trader Joe’s patron who’d spent the previous evening crossing a murder suspect off her list.
As she got out of the car, warm Tucson air stuck to the back of her neck. She pulled her chestnut brown hair into a ponytail and checked her reflection in the car’s window. She was about to head toward the front doors when she noticed a familiar figure climbing out of a navy blue BMW across the lot. She felt her insides twist and heat rise to her cheeks.
Thayer.
He hadn’t seen her. Emma could turn and run in the other direction, but now that she knew he was innocent, she owed him an apology. Her legs felt unsteady as she crossed the parking lot toward the car. She forced herself forward until she stood a few feet from him. “Thayer?” Her voice came out shaky. Something about him still made her so nervous.
Thayer turned and squinted. His white T-shirt was wrinkled, and his army green cargo shorts hung low, like they were too big for him. His jaw tightened and he ran a hand through his hair. “Oh. Hey.”
“You’re out of jail,” Emma said, immediately feeling stupid.
“Is that a problem?” Thayer leaned on the BMW’s hood, examining Emma carefully. Almost like he knew she wasn’t the girl he fell in love with. But Emma was being paranoid. She knew now that Thayer had no idea about the twin switch. He wasn’t Sutton’s killer.
“Look, I’m sorry about the way things worked out,” she said softly. “With… you know. That night. The hospital.” She held Thayer’s gaze, wanting him to believe her, wanting him to know Sutton didn’t mean to hurt him.
I wanted Thayer to know it, too.
Thayer’s face softened slightly. He fidgeted with the strap of the black backpack slung over his shoulder. “Look, Sutton. I’m actually not supposed to be around you.”
“I know,” Emma said quickly, suddenly nervous. She lifted a hand to shade her eyes and shifted her weight in Sutton’s flip-flops. “Laurel told me. I ruin your life every time I’m near you.”
A confused look passed over Thayer’s features. “Uh, no. I can’t be around you because your dad said so. I got a call from him this morning.” His expression darkened at the mention of Mr. Mercer. “He said that if he caught me hanging around with you or Laurel, he’d figure out how to throw me back in jail.”
Emma frowned. “Why does he hate you so much?”
Thayer tilted his chin and gave Emma a weighted glance that made her feel like she’d asked a question Sutton would’ve known the answer to.
“I mean …” Emma went on, leaving a heavy pause between them, hoping Thayer would let her in on whatever he wasn’t saying. But he just looked at her meaningfully, his eyes small slits.
“I should go,” he mumbled finally, and turned toward the store. But a few paces away, he turned and looked back, running a tanned hand over the back of his neck. “Actually, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you.”
Emma swallowed hard. A few rows over, a car alarm went off. An old man shoved an empty shopping cart into the corral. She stared at Thayer and waited for his question. She hoped she knew the answer.
Thayer looked down at his beat-up Converse. “Why didn’t you respond to my notes?”
Emma scrambled to think. When he’d referenced his notes, she’d assumed he meant the note someone had stuck on Laurel’s car, warning Emma that Sutton was dead and she needed to play along. But now she realized he must have meant something else.
“I emailed you and emailed you,” Thayer continued. “But you never wrote back. Was it because of the accident? Because I broke my leg and wouldn’t be Mr. Athlete anymore?”
“It’s not like that at all,” Emma said softly.
“Of course it’s not,” I whispered along.
Emma’s mind raced, putting together the pieces of what Thayer was saying. Sutton and Thayer did have some sort of secret email correspondence. Of course Sutton wouldn’t have written to him after the last night they saw each other—she was dead. And naturally, when Emma took Sutton’s place, she wouldn’t have known what that covert email address was. “I’m sorry I didn’t contact you,” Emma said. “I would have, if …”
“Save it,” Thayer interrupted. He shrugged a shoulder and raised his glance to give her a long stare. “I missed you, Sutton. And I was so angry when you cut me out of your life. You were the only person who understood me. But now you’re acting like you don’t know who I am. I came to your room that night because I wanted to tell you the truth about where I’ve been. I emailed you I was coming, but I guess you didn’t get it. But then you acted all afraid of me. Like I was going to hurt you.”
“I know and I’m sorry,” Emma said, her eyes lowered. “I was confused and surprised. And stupid. It was a mistake.”
“I just wanted you to listen,” Thayer said. He looked so forlorn that Emma reached out and touched his arm. He didn’t pull away, so she moved a little closer and folded her arms around his shoulders, squeezing tight. At first, Thayer remained stiff and closed-off, but soon he melted into her, burying his head into her neck and running his hands up and down her arms. The movement was so passionate and real. It was glaringly clear to Emma just how much he cared for Sutton.
And the ache I felt inside made it glaringly clear just how much I’d cared for him. And how stupid I’d been to let him go. If only I had gone with Laurel to the hospital. If only we had all ridden together, maybe I wouldn’t be dead now.
Thayer traced a line from Emma’s shoulder to her wrist before pulling his hand away and looking sheepish. “I shouldn’t be pissed, really,” he said. “You had your reasons for not reading my messages, not writing back. I know I come on strong. I know I get too passionate, blow hot and cold. And I wasn’t telling you everything. You wanted to know what happened to me, and I never told you. But it wasn’t because I didn’t trust you. It was because … well, I was embarrassed.” A sad smile crossed his face. “I went to rehab, Sutton. For alcohol abuse. It was just something I had to do on my own. I was just so angry, all the time. I drank to numb it all, but it just made everything worse.”
“Rehab?” Emma blinked. “Are you … okay?”
Thayer nodded. “I had an amazing doctor, and it was such a meaningful, helpful experience that I got this.” He rolled up his sleeve and showed her the tattoo on his arm of the eagle in flight.
Emma stared at him, thinking of her conversation with Dr. Sheldon’s nurse. “Did you do the whole program?”
“Well, I was stuck in the hospital with my leg for a while, and then I left a little before my doctor wanted me to, but I was ready to come back to Tucson. To see you,” Thayer said earnestly. “I’ve told my parents where I was, too. My dad was horrified, of course, but he’s coming around, especially since I’m clean now. He’s even letting me back in the house, though we’ll see how that goes.”
“That’s … great,” Emma said slowly, taking it all in. She thought about the SPH website. Emma had just assumed that Thayer was locked up on the psych ward in the hospital, but of course a rehab center could be part of a mental-health facility.
“And then there’s this.” Thayer held up the rope bracelet around his wrist, smiling wryly. “Remember how we fought over it because a girl made it? But Sutton, she’s fifty-two years old and has a husband and three kids.”
I let out a long breath, remembering the fight Thayer and I had had at Sabino Canyon, the one that had kicked off that weird chain of events. I had felt jealous, sure that Thayer was somewhere cool and interesting without me. If only he had been honest. If only I hadn’t jumped to conclusions.
Thayer let out a breath and rested a large hand on the hood of his car. “You know, Sutton, you seem … so different. What’s changed?”
Emma licked her bottom lip and tasted Sutton’s watermelon-flavored gloss. No doubt Thayer knew her twin well. A part of her longed to tell h
im the truth, now that she knew he was innocent. He cared so deeply for her sister that he might help her and Ethan out. But she didn’t know him well enough to trust him with her secret—not yet, anyway.
“Nothing’s changed,” she said sadly. “I’m exactly who I always was. I’ve just … grown up a little.”
Thayer nodded, even though it looked like he didn’t understand what he was saying. “I guess I’ve grown up, too,” he mumbled. “Rehab and jail will do that to you.”
They both stared at each other. Emma wasn’t sure what more there was to say. Shrugging, she gave him a little wave and turned toward the store. When she looked over her shoulder, Thayer was still watching her, maybe hoping she’d come back to him. But she didn’t. She wasn’t Thayer’s to have, and she was with Ethan now.
When Emma didn’t return to him, Thayer’s face fell. He looked crushed.
I was crushed, too. Thayer didn’t understand why I no longer loved him back. And unless Emma solved my murder, he would never get the answer.
31
MEET THE MERCERS
That afternoon, Emma sat on the Mercers’ front porch and thumbed through Laurel’s glossy copy of Elle. A faint citrus smell wafted from the neighbor’s lemon tree and the sounds of an ice cream truck jingled from the next street over. One of the tennis-team moms jogged by with her golden retriever and gave Emma a wave just as Ethan’s beat-up Honda pulled to the curb. The engine coughed and sputtered as Ethan turned off the ignition.
Emma’s heart gave a tiny flutter as he stepped from the car. Ethan looked nervous as he raised his hand in a wave. At that moment, Mr. Mercer emerged from the garage clutching a white rag covered in black grease stains. He looked up with surprise, but then shrugged and shot Emma a weak smile.
Ethan walked up the front steps, noticing Sutton’s dad, too. “Is it okay that I’m here?”
“It’s more than okay,” Emma answered. “I told them about us at breakfast.” From now on, there would be no more hiding. They could be friends—and more—out in the open now.
Mr. Mercer’s cell phone suddenly bleated loudly. Sutton’s dad, who was pretending to be absorbed in polishing his motorcycle but was clearly watching the interaction between Emma and Ethan, glanced at the caller ID. His face darkened, and he swore loudly. He slipped into the cover of the garage to take the call.
“That’s weird,” Emma said, her eyes on the garage.
“Maybe it’s a work call.” Ethan forced a grin but Emma could tell he was uncomfortable. “A hospital patient gone haywire.”
A car door slammed and an engine growled to life. Mr. Mercer’s Audi reversed down the driveway. Emma waved good-bye to him, but Mr. Mercer didn’t even notice her. His face was drawn as he backed the car onto the street and hit the gas. He swerved, blasting his horn when two boys zoomed by on skateboards. Emma frowned. Maybe that phone call had been a work emergency.
“Remind me not to get on that guy’s bad side,” Ethan said, running a hand through his dark hair.
He sat next to her, and Emma filled him in on everything she’d found out the night before—it had been too loud and crowded to talk at the party, and they’d had Laurel in the car on the drive home. Ethan’s eyebrows went higher and higher as she explained that Thayer couldn’t have killed Sutton.
“Let me get this straight,” Ethan sounded out after Emma finished. “The night Sutton died, someone else hit Thayer with Sutton’s car?”
Emma nodded. “It definitely wasn’t Sutton who hit him. Someone must have taken her car and dumped it in the desert. Maybe that person came back and killed Sutton, too.”
“So who was it?”
“I don’t know. I want to ask Thayer, but it might make me look suspicious if I don’t know.”
A gust of air caught the wind chime, and Ethan flinched at the sudden ringing, making Emma smile. “Scared of a little wind?” she teased.
“Very funny,” Ethan said, glancing across the lawn. “I am scared that whoever killed Sutton is still out there,” he whispered.
“I know,” Emma said, shivering despite the heat. “Me, too.”
A frown settled on Ethan’s face. “If it wasn’t Thayer, who could it have been? All signs pointed to him. He made perfect sense. And I still think he’s dangerous.”
Emma shrugged. “Even if he’s troubled, he didn’t do it. I suppose that it’s too much to hope the killer has left town? I haven’t heard from him, or her, since the dance.”
“Maybe.” Ethan folded his ankle over his knee and glanced sideways at Emma. “But something tells me that’s too good to be true. Whoever it is could still be out there. I’m up for finding the truth if you are.”
“Definitely,” Emma whispered. She leaned her cheek on Ethan’s shoulder. He kissed the top of her forehead and she tilted her chin to meet his lips. Ethan returned her kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. His hand reached up to trace the soft hairs that framed her face. He kissed her softly, his lips fitting perfectly with hers, making Emma want to freeze time. She’d never had a real boyfriend, and now she had something—someone—more amazing than she could have ever imagined.
A car pulled into the driveway, and Emma and Ethan broke apart. The car door of a blue BMW opened, and Thayer hoisted himself out. Emma felt Ethan stiffen next to her.
“Oh!” Emma said. “Uh, hey, Thayer.” What was he doing here? Hadn’t he just said that morning that Mr. Mercer had warned him away?
“Don’t stop on my account,” Thayer said in a sarcastic voice, arms crossed over his chest.
He walked slowly across the front yard. Even with his limp, he had that specific kind of confidence that seemed easy. “So. What’s up?”
“We’re just hanging out,” Emma said foolishly, fumbling for words.
“We?” Thayer’s pale eyes flickered next to Emma. When Emma turned her head, she saw Ethan stepping quickly off the porch. His sneakers kicked up gravel as he trekked across the driveway toward his car.
“Ethan?” Emma called. “Where are you going?”
Ethan didn’t answer as he strode away. It was like he couldn’t get away fast enough. His hands fumbled with the keys as he let himself into his car. He hit the gas, and in a flash, he was gone.
Emma stared at the disappearing cloud of exhaust. What the hell was that all about? Next to her, Thayer made a tsk sound with his tongue. “Why don’t you and your friends leave that poor guy alone?”
“What do you mean?” Emma snapped.
Thayer threw his hands up in surrender. “Don’t jump all over me!” He put a sneaker on the porch and leaned forward, flexing his calf. “Seriously, Sutton. First it was that prank where the poor kid lost his science scholarship, and now you’re faking a relationship with him?”
Emma stared at him, trying to understand. Slowly, it sunk in. Thayer assumed if Sutton was kissing Ethan, it had to be a part of some prank she and her friends were pulling for the Lying Game. Emma opened her mouth, wanting to make it clear that she and Ethan definitely were a real item, but she remembered how hurt he’d looked in the parking and didn’t want to rub it in.
“So what are you doing here?” Emma said, deciding to change the subject. “I thought you were scared of my dad.”
Thayer shrugged. “Laurel gave me the all clear. I came to hang out with her—it’s been forever since we talked.”
He moved toward Emma to walk in the house and paused briefly by her side, as if he wanted to say more. He was so close that Emma could smell his pine soap and fresh-smelling clothes. His bare legs were long and muscular. His white soccer sneakers were scuffed and caked with dirt, as though he’d just come off the field. He reminded her of all the hot, unattainable jocks Emma had ever gone to school with, the ones who’d never given her the time of day.
She quickly snapped back to reality. Okay, so Thayer was cute. But Ethan was her boyfriend.
Suddenly, a prickly feeling danced across the back of Emma’s neck. She turned around, sure she was being wat
ched. A breeze rifled through the leaves of a tall weeping willow. Birds shot up in a cluster, calling to each other with tiny squawks. Emma looked all around, finally noticing a face in the window. It was Laurel, staring at her and Thayer from the living room. Emma raised her hand in a wave, but Laurel just kept glaring. Her light eyes sent a chill straight to Emma’s bones. She looked furious enough to kill.
EPILOGUE
As I watched Laurel glare at Emma, a flash of my last memory swarmed my vision. I saw myself hiding in the brush after Thayer had been run down. I’d felt so distraught, so overcome with guilt and fear for his safety. And then I saw two eyes lock with mine. Laurel stared at me with burning rage. Everything in her look said that she blamed me for what happened to Thayer. And I had a strange feeling she was going to do more than just glare at me. Her look said she wanted to reach through the brush and teach me a lesson for all the ways I’d ruined everything.
She looked like she wanted to hurt me—and she looked like she wanted to do the same to Emma now.
In moments, Laurel’s face disappeared from the window. Thayer slipped inside the house to see her. My twin remained on the porch, reeling from everything that had just happened, too afraid to admit what she’d just seen.
But I couldn’t help but mull it over in my mind. Yes, I’d ruled Laurel out as a suspect. She’d been at Nisha’s sleepover all night on the night I died. But there was something about that fact that didn’t add up. If Laurel had rescued Thayer from Sabino Canyon, then she hadn’t been at Nisha’s the whole night. Either Nisha was mistaken … or lying … or Laurel had snuck out without her knowing.
