“You’re helping the police?” He raised an eyebrow quizzically.
“Yes.” I didn’t want to explain any more than that. He didn’t move, so I added, “They think I might know something about the serial killer.”
Matt still stared at me. He’s not going to let me go, I thought.
He shrugged and turned around. “Make sure you clock out. And go quickly. If Tom calls and asks where you are, I ain’t lyin’.”
“Do you recognize any of these men?”
Lieutenant Bailey stood behind my right shoulder. Another officer sat by a computer, clicking through programs. The window and the computer screen gave the only light in the darkened room.
I squeezed my purse between my fingers and exhaled. My skin crawled as though the men I stared at could see me, even though I knew that all they saw was their own reflection.
“It’s hard to say,” I murmured. The face that had been so easy to recall now seemed less defined. Or was I just afraid of making a mistake? I studied the five men in front of me, each with similar characteristics. My gaze paused on the last man. He held the same stance as the other four, feet apart with his hands handcuffed behind him. He tossed his head back and stared at the ceiling, an expression of utter boredom on his face.
His neck. If his head hadn’t been tossed back, I would’ve missed the scar running along the side of his neck. I flashed into Hannah’s mind for a moment, the dull perception she had of her own impending death as she stared at that neck leaning over her. I shuddered and fought back tears. “It’s him.” I pointed. “On the end. Number five.”
Papers shuffled behind me, and Bailey conferred with another officer. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “The scar. I remember the scar.” I searched my memory, trying to remember if I’d drawn a scar on the paper I’d given him. Surely I had.
“All right, Jayne, thank you,” Bailey said, turning around. He didn’t look at me, but straightened several folders next to the computer. “I’ll be in touch if we need you again.”
“What happens now?” My heart pounded in my throat, and I glanced back at the man. “Will he be arrested?”
“He already has been,” Bailey said softly. “That’s why he’s here.”
My shoulders slumped with relief. “Thank goodness.”
Bailey faced me, his hazel eyes probing my face. “But we have to let him go.”
My back stiffened. “Let him go? Why? But I identified him!”
“But you were the only one to do so.” His voice was so soft that I strained to hear him. “And you are the least reliable witness. You only know what Hannah described to you before she died. It’s practically hearsay.” His gaze intensified. “Unless you have another means of identifying the perpetrator?”
I clenched my purse, taking deep breaths to steady myself. I knew what he wanted. “I know that’s him. I saw him at the high school game.”
He nodded his head. “But that doesn’t make him the murderer.”
How could I offer proof? I knew that if I told him I’d Seen him in a vision the night before he murdered Hannah, he would no longer take me seriously. I searched my mind, trying to fabricate a story that would satisfy his logical reasoning while also persuading him that this really was the guy. “Hannah pointed him out to me,” I blurted out.
The other officer glanced up from the computer. Bailey leaned back against the desk, folding his arms across his chest. “When did she do this?”
“Right before she died.” My hands shook. Even my purse couldn’t hide them. I tried to weave in enough of the truth to make the story believable. “She came to my work. She wanted to talk, so we drove around town in her car. We saw him come out of an alley. She stopped the car, turned off the lights, and pointed him out to me. We watched him from across the street. She was spooked, but she had places to go, so she took me back to work.” I knew my story must be riddled with holes, but all I needed was for it to hold up enough to book the man.
“So you saw him. Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
One lie leads to another. “I didn’t see him up close. But then when I saw him again, at the basketball game, I recognized him.” The words poured out of me in a rush, as if by saying them quickly, he wouldn’t realize how mixed up my story was. “He fit her descriptions and the man we’d seen. That’s when I noticed the scar.”
Bailey stared at me, making a clicking sound with his tongue. “This all would have been important to know before.”
I blushed. “I’m sorry.”
He glanced at his watch. “I want to get your testimony, but I have an appointment. Just repeat everything to Officer Daniels,” he patted the other man’s arm, “whenever he’s ready.”
“So will you lock him up now?” I blurted out. I hated the idea of him out on the street again.
“It’s still circumstantial. You only have Hannah’s word, and this was before a crime had been committed against her. But it might be enough for us to get a search warrant on him.”
I licked my lips and wished desperately for chapstick. “What about DNA testing? Couldn’t you check to see if any of his cells were found on Hannah?” I blanched even as I said the words. What a morbid thing to say.
“He didn’t agree to testing, and without a search warrant, we can’t force him. I really have to go now, Jayne. Tell me the instant you remember anything else.”
I looked at Officer Daniels, who had a recorder ready and was waiting for me to repeat my hurried story of lies. I rubbed my temple, feeling suddenly drained of energy. I couldn’t even remember what I’d prattled off. Not that it mattered. My testimony hadn’t even been enough to keep the guy locked up. “I have to get back to work,” I said to him. “Thanks.” I walked out the door without waiting for the guy to comment.
CHAPTER TWENTY
By the time I got back to work, it was eight o'clock. Matt barely spoke to me. That suited me fine. My mind was elsewhere.
I helped close up and then headed out the door. I needed to talk to someone. I had actually told Aaron my secret power. Maybe I could confess my dilemma with the police and Hannah as well. I got as far as pulling my phone out before I remembered I’d deleted his number.
“Stupid, stupid Jayne!” I cursed myself. I sat in my car for ten minutes, fishing through my backpack, looking for that slip of paper Dana had given me just a few days earlier with his phone number on it.
Nothing.
I put my head on my steering wheel, feeling like an absolute idiot. Why had I done that? Such a spur of the moment decision, trying to save myself from future pain. And now I felt so much worse. What was Aaron thinking?
Maybe, just maybe, Dana had his number. I needed to talk to her anyway. I called Dana on the way to her house, but she didn’t answer. It was almost eleven at night, but I still expected her to be up and about.
I let myself into the house, trying to be surreptitious. Voices murmured from the kitchen. I climbed the winding staircase up to Dana’s room, hoping to go unnoticed. Her door was closed. I knocked once and let myself in.
Dana sat cross-legged in her chair at the vanity, bloodshot eyes staring at her reflection. Her window was open to the night sky, and a mild breeze blew the green curtains into the room. Her eyes met mine in the mirror. Dark shadows made her face look thin and gaunt. Her normally perfect hair was ratty and limp.
“Are you okay?” I asked softly, crossing the room to her. “You haven’t been in school for two days. I’ve been trying to call you.”
She reached over and took a sip from an orange cup. “You called once.” Her voice was hoarse and emotionless.
Twice, if she counted just now. Which it didn’t look like she did. I tapped my fingers on my jeans, trying to feel this one out. “What can I do for you?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Nothing. I’m fine. I’ll be in school on Monday.”
“Are you in trouble?”
She gave a short laugh that sounded like a bark. “Um, yeah. I got in
a car with a drunk driver who got himself killed.” She swallowed, moisture pooling in her eyes. “Not to mention that I was drunk.”
I nodded. “My parents grounded me. Nothing but work and school.”
“Hm.” She gave a disinterested grunt.
I checked my watch. It was late, and this conversation was going nowhere. “I better get home. But I can get your homework for you.”
She waved a hand. “Just go.”
I hesitated, wanting to say something more, but having no idea what. She was obviously unhappy with me. “I’m so sorry, Dana. Call me if you need anything, okay?”
She sighed and put her head down on the vanity. “Yeah. You’re a fabulous friend.”
I started home, a heavy weight in my heart and a bad taste in my mouth. Not that my life had been great before, but when had it become so dismal?
Blue and red lights flashed behind me and I froze. What now? I pulled to the side of the road, my hands clammy, and the cop pulled around me and drove into the distance. I exhaled in relief. He wasn’t actually after me.
I merged into traffic, the flashing lights still blinking in my mind. Why did that feel familiar? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been pulled over. I turned my radio off, trying to focus.
Dark, gray walls. Nighttime. Red and blue neon lights.
Hannah. A night club with red and blue lights.
I pulled over again, my mouth dry at the sudden realization. Of course the police already knew where Hannah had died, but nobody had told me. I sifted through the night clubs I was familiar with, hoping I would recognize one with blue and red lights. Not that I’d ever been to one, but I’d seen them often enough.
Two came to mind: Estella’s Dancing Bar and The Electric Cowboy. The Electric Cowboy was in Forked River, while the Dancing Bar was in Barnegat Bay. Since that was where Hannah died, I decided to try there first. I turned my car around, not sure what I would find, if anything, but determined to look.
When I reached the club, all kinds of doubts filled me. There must be dozens of other night clubs that I wasn’t familiar with. Maybe they all had red and blue lights. The chances of it being this one were minuscule. And even if it were, I should’ve come in the daytime, when I might actually be able to see something.
But I was here, so I may as well look. I climbed out of my car. Loud music blared from the club, the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke leaking out the door.
Sure enough, there was an alley behind it. I took a few steps into the alley, shivering as the temperature dropped. The flashing lights from the club lit the wall of the building beside it, strobing red and blue across the bricks. The smell of rot and refuge filled the small area.
I walked toward the dumpster in the back and the vision popped into my head as clearly as Seeing it again. I spun around and studied the pavement. This was it. This was where she had died. Mottled spots stained it, but they could be from anything. I knelt and pressed my fingers against the stains. A sigh escaped my lips. What did I hope to accomplish here?
Feeling like an absolute idiot, I headed back for the parking lot, streetlights beckoning to me at the entrance of the alley. The warmth hit me when I exited and I inhaled with relief.
My phone rang, startling me. I glanced at the name. Mom. “Hello?”
“It’s late, Jayne. You should be home by now.”
I scowled and bit back a reply. I didn’t need another project, and I knew she’d happily find a reason to give me one. “I’m almost there. I’m driving.” Which wasn’t true at all. I would just tell her the traffic was bad and that’s why it took so long.
Oh, the days when I never lied to my parents appeared to be long gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I didn't sleep well that night. I checked my phone a dozen times to see if I'd missed any calls. I kept thinking I must've accidentally turned it to silent. But no, no calls. Not from Dana. And not from Aaron, whose number I'd forgotten to retrieve from Dana.
As soon as I got to school, I looked for Aaron. I debated in my mind how to play this. Should I stand by his locker and act like nothing had happened? Write him a note and apologize?
I spotted him before first hour, going the opposite direction as me. I smiled and waved, but he didn’t see me. “Aaron!” I called.
He glanced my direction, then checked his watch and walked away. My smile dropped from my face. Had he seen me? Surely not. I stood there as students crashed into me, oblivious to the tardy bell. Then I shook it off. I’d talk to him in fourth hour, tell him what happened at work. No need to mention deleting his number.
I saw him again in the hallway in front of me before English, too far away to call out to. Aaron didn’t stop to joke or act macho with the football jocks in the hallway. He didn’t saunter like the other rich kids, but there was a definite classy air about him. He held his head high and walked with a straight back, much the way I imagined someone at a prep school would do. His hair was neatly combed, white shirt pressed under the navy sweater. He was so past the high school stage.
I quickened my pace and entered just behind him, breathless. I assessed the seating arrangements. Aaron wasn’t sitting by Poppy, at least. He sat at the table I’d sat at yesterday, just behind her. Poppy had her back to him and was gaily chatting with a blond bimbo who giggled at everything she said. She hadn’t noticed Aaron, but I knew that wouldn’t last long.
I started for the seat next to Aaron before noticing the backpack occupying it. I faltered. Was he saving it or blocking it?
The bell rang and Ms. Siegfried closed the door. “Jayne, please find a seat.”
Find a seat. My ears burned and I swiveled around. Shouldn’t be so hard, right?
The seat next to Poppy was empty.
I dropped into the chair beside her, resisting the urge to fan my face. Poppy stopped talking and gawked at me. I kept my eyes forward, pulling out my notebook and “Othello.”
Why did things have to be so awkward? Why couldn’t I just act casual and normal, grin at Aaron and say, “Mind if I sit here?” Giggle flirtatiously and move his bag?
Instead I felt so confused. I didn’t know where I stood. Never mind that he kissed me yesterday. I didn’t have the confidence of a girlfriend. What were we?
I tensed as the end of class neared, my heart rate increasing at the prospect of Aaron coming over to talk to me. Talk to him first, Jayne, I told myself. I swiveled in my chair, ready with my smile, just as Aaron gathered up his books and walked out.
I stopped breathing. He just walked away. That was it. The disappointment was poignant. It stabbed my gut like a sharp, twisted knife.
“Did you guys, like, fight or something?” Poppy was frowning at me, tapping a pencil on the desk.
“Oh, No.” I exhaled, trying to play it cool. “We’re just giving each other space.”
“Oh.” Poppy smiled brightly. “Isn’t that nice?” Getting up, she flounced away.
There were still a few people in the room, but I felt very, very alone.
Dana’s reception hadn’t been warm the day before, but I didn’t know who else to talk to. I didn’t really have any other friends; I didn’t have time for anyone except Dana. She was kind of a full-time job.
Dana was out in the yard playing baseball with her little brother, Zach. She wore beige capris that tied at her calves, and her curly blond hair was pulled through a baseball cap. She stopped playing and watched me pull into the drive.
I licked my lips. Maybe this was a bad idea. I grabbed my chapstick from the dash and swiped it over my mouth. It was slightly melted and came off in clumps. I stepped out of the car and moved toward her. “Hi, Dana.”
Dana handed the ball to Zach. “Game’s over, kid.”
“Hi, Zach,” I called out.
“Hey, Jayne,” he replied, already moving off, tossing the ball in the air to himself.
Dana folded her arms across her chest and walked over to me. The color was back in her face, though her lip
s were pressed into a stern line.
“You missed school again,” I said, not sure where to start.
“I know.”
“So.” I pushed a hand through my wild hair. “You’re still mad at me. Though to be honest, I’m not really sure why.”
She sighed and dropped her arms. “I don’t even know where to begin, Jayne. It’s like I don’t even know you.” She turned around and walked back toward the house.
I followed her to the porch, where we both sat on the concrete steps. Where was this coming from? What exactly had I done to make her so mad? Was it because I had called her father? “What’s this about, Dana? Is it about the bonfire?”
She picked up a quartz rock and smoothed her fingers over it. “Not really. I guess.” She blinked and met my eyes, light-blue and unwavering. “What are you playing at?”
“Playing at?” My palms were sweaty with anxiety.
Dana dropped the rock with a clink. “Aaron called me yesterday.”
“Aaron?” I echoed, my mind spinning fast to put the pieces together. Had he told her he’d kissed me? Was she upset about finding out from him? It wasn’t like Dana to be so dramatic, but I didn’t know what else to think. “Listen, Dana, I was going to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” she interrupted. “Either you fed him a bunch of BS, or you’ve been holding out on me since—well, for as long as I’ve known you!”
Now I was really confused. “I’m lost.”
She sighed again. “Aaron spouted off a bunch of nonsense about how you’re acting weird, and he wanted to know if it had anything to do with the fact that you’re psychic.” She glowered at me. “Obviously he thought I would know, since I’m your best friend. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to laugh or play along. So I just told the freaking truth—that I didn’t really know. And then I hung up.” She leaned back on her elbows. “So, Jayne. What’s going on? If you’re just trying to scare Aaron off, I’m sure there’s an easier way to do it.”
This was more complicated than I’d imagined. I took a deep breath. “Well... Aaron’s right. Sort of. Sometimes I can see the future.”
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