Dead For Good Book 1

by Stacy Claflin

  She pounded on the door. “Hadley Marie! Open the door!”

  Shuffling sounded on the other side before the door flung open. “Mom! Stop.”

  Faye pushed past her. “Where is he?”

  “Who?”

  “Whatever boy you have hidden in here?”

  “I’m alone!”

  She opened the closet and moved her daughter’s clothes around. “That’s exactly what you’d say if you had a boy in here.”

  “I don’t.”

  Faye looked under the bed. “What are you doing up here?”

  “Homework.” She pointed to open textbooks on the bed.

  “Why?”

  “Because I have school tomorrow.” Her eyes were red.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Come down to the party.”

  Hadley shook her head. “I have to get this report done.”

  “The entire neighborhood is here. I think it’d help if you at least make an appearance.”

  “Help?”

  “So many people think Dad could’ve done it.”

  Hadley’s face paled. “You mean … Duke?”

  Faye nodded. “And it doesn’t help that the police have questioned us more than anyone else.”

  “He wouldn’t…” She chewed on a nail.

  “We know that, but they don’t. Just come down and say hi to a few people. There’s a lot of food. I’m sure all this studying is building up an appetite.”

  “Give me a minute to put on some makeup and do something with my hair. Maybe change my clothes.”

  Faye embraced her. “You look beautiful as you are, but I understand if you want to. Don’t feel like you have to stay all night, but please, have some snacks and give your dad a hug. I’m sure he could use it.”

  “Okay.”

  “Thanks, honey. It really will help and do you some good.”

  “I guess.”

  Faye returned to the party. Only then did it strike her as odd that Hadley looked like she’d been crying. This whole investigation was really throwing her off. She returned to her daughter’s room, but the door was already closed, and the music blaring even louder than before.

  They’d have a talk after the party. Or maybe Faye would pull her aside downstairs. But at least she’d agreed to join everyone. Maybe that would pull her out of this funk.

  Faye went straight to the kitchen and checked the oven, unable to remember if she’d even put anything in it. There was a pizza, and it looked ready, so she took it out and set it on the stove to cool.

  “You got it,” Allison said, hurrying into the kitchen. “Thanks. Where’d you disappear to?”

  “Begging my daughter to come downstairs for a few minutes.”

  “Luna’s running around with — oh, you mean Hadley. Teenagers. It’s one drama after another, am I right?”

  Faye leaned against the island, sipping from a wine glass. “Yep. Though we’ve been lucky with Zeke. He’s such a good kid. He just plays too many video games.”

  “He’s only fourteen?”

  “Right.”

  Allison smirked. “Plenty of time for his attitude to take over.”

  “Great.”

  She gave Faye a friendly shove. “Don’t worry about it. They always come around later. You’re close to your parents now, right?”

  Faye hesitated. She avoided them at all costs, but she also parented the opposite of them, so hopefully, her kids wouldn’t run for the hills after graduation.

  “No?” Allison poured both of them some sparkling apple cider. “I certainly did. It only took a few weeks at college to make me realize how much I needed my parents.”

  “I couldn’t get enough of the freedom, personally.”

  “Everyone is different, I suppose.”

  “Cheers to that.” Faye raised her glass.

  Allison chuckled. “Cheers.”

  Applause erupted in the living room, followed by a string of complaints.

  Faye set her glass down. “I’m going to see who just scored.”

  “Pretty sure it was the Panthers.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “Wes was one of the people booing. Lifelong Steelers fan. He only pretends to like the Seahawks during the regular season.”

  “Gotcha. I’m going to check on Hadley. She should be down by now.”

  “Go easy on her. It’s rougher being a teen than when we were kids.” Allison looked lost in thought, her eyes sad.

  Faye didn’t want to hear whatever story she was obviously supposed to ask about, so she headed into the living room.

  Everyone was laughing about a commercial with a talking dog holding a beer.

  No Hadley in sight. Maybe she was still getting ready. That girl could spend twenty minutes on her eyes alone.

  Faye made her way to the entry, which had turned into a kids’ playroom for the evening. Luna had brought down some of her toys, and they were all playing happily. Nobody crazy yet, but the night was still young.

  She stopped cold on her way back to the living room.

  Brad and Rose were talking again. Whispering. Standing even closer than before.

  Her stomach did somersaults, and as she was about to walk away, Allison entered the hallway, arching a brow and offering Faye a sympathetic frown.

  Faye shook her head. Brad wasn’t Allison’s first husband. And Rose was only a coworker … looking at her husband with hungry eyes.

  Knees wobbling, Faye marched over to Brad. “I need your help with something. Now.”

  Allison gave her an approving nod.

  Rose stiffened.

  Faye pulled Brad to the stairway.

  “What are you doing?” His expression was a brew of annoyance and confusion. “Rose thinks she has a few solid suspects.”

  “I think something’s wrong with Hadley.” Faye couldn’t bring herself to admit her jealousy.

  “Why? She seemed fine this morning.”

  “She doesn’t want to come downstairs for the party.”

  “So? Football isn’t her thing.” Brad frowned. “I need to hear the rest of what Rose has to say. It would be good for you to hear, too.”

  “I—”

  He took her hand and led her down the hall.

  It was a relief that he wanted her there when he spoke with Rose, but she couldn’t help thinking about Allison’s first marriage. Or Jessica.

  Something was definitely going on, even if it was just Brad’s young coworker having a crush on him.

  Faye would find a way to stop it in its tracks.

  No matter what.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Hadley forced a laugh at Larry Davis’s joke as she finished a cookie shaped like a football helmet. She excused herself, then looked around for her parents. Mom was in a corner, talking with Allison, and Dad was laughing with some guy from work.

  They weren’t paying any attention to her. This was her chance to bolt.

  After double-checking, she hurried upstairs and quickly changed into all black clothes, including a beanie. Once downstairs, she found her jacket with the most pockets — dark, of course — and tiptoed to the laundry room even though nobody would hear her over the party noise. It was part of the routine.

  She opened the door to the backyard and covered the door cam with the same dark paper she used every time. She’d learned how to do it stealthily enough that it didn’t register as movement. Regardless, it still made her nearly break out into a sweat.

  Hadley ducked and crept underneath the window, careful not to be seen by any of the partygoers inside. She felt her way across the rest of the house and to the fence, checking for the rock that used to always trip her up. She found the board with the knot, the one that had secretly been loosened to work as a door between the two yards.

  She squeezed through, managing not to scratch herself, though it was a lot easier with a jacket covering so much of her. During the summer, she always ended up with scratches on her arms and legs. Luckil
y, her parents rarely noticed, and if they did, they seemed to buy even the flimsiest of her excuses.

  It paid to be the responsible child. Zeke was such a screw-up, always getting in trouble at school and for the lamest things. Mom and Dad questioned nearly everything he did, even though she broke so many more rules.

  Hadley pulled the boards back into place and hurried over to Duke’s back door, pulling out her key and letting herself in. She drew in a deep breath, taking in the scent of his cologne.

  Tears blurred her vision, and the lump in her throat grew big enough to explode.

  “I’m going to hold it together.”

  She hurried upstairs, the reality of Duke’s fate like an extra hundred pounds.

  He was really gone. She could come over, but he wouldn’t be here. Not any longer, and never again.

  Pausing outside his bedroom, preparing herself to enter alone, the home’s echo of silence like a constant taunting.

  Tears spilled onto her face, but she didn’t bother to wipe them away, letting them stream down her cheeks and drip onto her coat.

  Duke’s scent was stronger in here, the room where he once splashed his cologne.

  It was so unfair. Why had someone killed him? What had he ever done to anybody?

  He’d been the nicest person she’d ever met. Dad couldn’t stand him but didn’t really even have anything bad to say about him. He complained about their rivalries, sure. But never an ill word about his character. Duke loved helping people so much he’d turned it into a career, coaching people online and in person, sometimes for free, if he saw their potential.

  He was the last person who should’ve been murdered.

  She collapsed onto the bed and sobbed into his pillow, almost able to feel his comforting arm around her. Practically heard his whispers in her ear.

  But none of it was real. Now all she had were photos and videos — she’d been playing those nonstop since getting home the night before. Her favorites were the ones of him laughing and telling her how much he loved her.

  She’d never imagined how much she would appreciate those.

  “Why, Duke? Did you fight back? Couldn’t you have killed him instead of it being the other way around? What happened?”

  Hadley looked at their string of texts for what had to be the five-hundredth time that day. Scrolled through pictures again. Played some videos.

  It felt so good to hear his voice here, where it belonged. But it was so wrong with him gone. So wrong that she would never, ever see him again.

  Hadley pulled the blankets close and cried out. Screamed into the bedding. Punched the mattress. Threw the pillows. Stomped.

  Then went limp and buried herself under the covers again. Took in his cologne. It was everywhere. He was nowhere.

  He didn’t deserve it. Duke should’ve lived to be an old man.

  Now he would be forever young. Immortalized at twenty-five.

  After gasping for air, she looked at more photos but nearly dropped the phone. She’d already been here an hour. Her parents would realize she wasn’t home. Mom was so insistent that she join the party. With any luck, the music blasting from her room would make Mom think she was studying and leave her alone.

  But she needed to get home, regardless. She could always sneak back in after everyone went to bed — it wasn’t like her parents ever suspected. Not as long as she was back before they woke up. Once, she had overslept and needed to get ready for school here at Duke’s. Then she’d had to sneak back home in the daylight. It’d been so nerve-wracking, she’d nearly puked.

  But she pulled it off.

  Hadley forced herself off the bed and found a sweatshirt that had been tossed on his computer chair. The cotton still smelled like him. After pulling it on, she felt her way to the closet and found the gym bag tucked under some spare blankets.

  She pulled out the papers. All the notes she wrote for him.

  Relief washed through her. The police hadn’t found them. Surely, they’d gone through his things searching for clues. If they’d checked the closet, they’d missed the bag.

  Just as planned. Duke had adored her love letters, but they couldn’t risk anyone else finding them. She’d been the one to insist he keep everything of hers hidden.

  She would never have forgiven herself if he’d gotten in trouble. The laws were dumb. What was age, other than a number? Everything would’ve been fine once she turned eighteen.

  They’d had less than a year until they could declare their love to the world.

  Now they never would have the chance.

  Hadley still couldn’t tell a soul. She might become a suspect. People could claim she was a jilted lover, manufacturing some story about how Duke had broken up with her. It was ludicrous, but she wouldn’t blame anyone for thinking that.

  She’d think the same thing if she was on the outside looking in.

  Slam!

  Hadley froze. That sounded like one of the doors downstairs.

  Nobody should be here. She and Duke had the only keys.

  Had the cops come back for another look? Caution tape still surrounded the house.

  They could arrest her for breaking in. But even if they didn’t — Hadley did have a key — she would be a suspect. Or they might think Dad had a motive. There was no denying that if he knew about Hadley’s relationship, he’d flip. Some might say he could go as far as killing. But he wouldn’t.

  Or would he?

  She struggled to breathe. What if he did find out? Then what?

  Would he murder Duke?

  No. That was crazy. He’d be pissed, sure. Maybe even throw a few punches.

  Voices sounded downstairs.

  Hadley shoved the letters into her coat and put it back on. Cupped her ears, listening.

  A man and a woman. Too far away to make out what they were saying.

  She crept closer to the stairs.

  Creak!

  Hadley lifted her foot and silently cursed the floorboard.

  The voices stopped.

  She covered her mouth, her bladder threatening to give out.

  Silence.

  Hadley looked around for a place to hide. What she really needed was a way outside. But she was on the second floor. Her only escape was a leap through the window.

  If only the apple tree was closer. Or the ground, like her house with its sloping yard. The drop was too far. Though if her choices were a broken leg or an arrest, or death if the people downstairs were the murderers, then she would deal with a cast.

  Or she had too wild an imagination, and the people downstairs were neither cops nor criminals. Either way, she wasn’t supposed to be there.

  She needed to either get out unnoticed or wait this out.

  And waiting could get her caught.

  The voices started again.

  Hadley exhaled and tiptoed toward the staircase, careful not to put much weight on any one floorboard.

  It paid off. Not a sound.

  She would definitely have to pee as soon as she returned home.

  If she got there.

  No. She would. This wasn’t the time for drama.

  Unless it was the perfect time.

  Pulse drumming in her ears, she stepped onto the first stair. She couldn’t tell if it made noise or not. There was no time to waste worrying. She drew measured breaths, but heard only her heart.

  Hadley continued down, her hearing slowly returning to normal. By the time she made it to the first floor, she could hear the pair of voices, though still too muffled to make out any words.

  A man and a woman. That much was obvious.

  They sounded close to the front entry.

  Hadley could get to the back door without being seen.

  Hopefully.

  Thunk!

  She froze.

  Chink!

  It sounded like they were trying to break something.

  Anger festered in her chest. It wasn’t bad enough that Duke was dead, but these people felt the need to break into his ho
use and ruin his things?

  She had to do something. But what? The intruders might have weapons, while she had only her love letters.

  There were plenty of knives in the kitchen, and Duke had a gun upstairs. She didn’t know what kind. But given all her practice at the range over the years with Dad and all the various weapons he had placed into her hands, Hadley could figure it out.

  She bolted up the stairs.

  Creak!

  Her breath hitched. She pressed herself against the wall. Listened.

  Voices, with no discernible words.

  She was halfway up. Could go either way. Darted to the top. Ran around the corner. Tried to listen. Breathing too hard. Beads of sweat formed along her hairline.

  Footsteps.

  Hadley couldn’t get to Duke’s room without being seen from the bottom of the staircase.

  The voices were closer. Whispering.

  She still couldn’t make out any words. Forced herself to take slow breaths. Cupped her ears, inched closer to the stairs.

  “… someone here …”

  “This way … impossible …”

  Her mind raced. She couldn’t get to the gun, but there had to be something else. Anything would do at this point. The bathroom was closest. Had to have something. A plunger? Razor blades? Throw mouthwash in their eyes?

  “… knife … evidence.”

  Duke’s killers. Coming back to the scene of the crime.

  If they found her, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill her, too. And if they’d overpowered her man, they would definitely be able to overtake her.

  “Down … Brad.”

  Brad? As in, her father?

  Or had she misheard that?

  She must have. She was barely picking up anything they said.

  The talking continued, but nothing made sense.

  Except for her father’s possible involvement. If Dad had discovered Duke and Hadley’s relationship, he could be mad enough to kill. And crazy as that sounded, someone downstairs had said his name.

  Her blood boiled. It made too much sense not to be true.

  Footsteps crept away.

  Away.

  Her legs nearly gave out. They weren’t heading her way.

  A baseball bat. Duke had one in a spare bedroom. From his glory days in high school.

  He’d understand if she needed to bloody it. It might be her only way out of the house alive.