We stopped for a breakfast sandwich at McDonald’s on the way to Britta’s. Cole had gotten her address off the Internet. It was freaky how easily he could look up anybody and get their address. It made me think that anybody else could do it, too.
We got to Britta’s by eleven A.M. I was a little worried she might be at church, but when we pulled up alongside her house, it was obvious by the two kids playing soccer in the side yard and the minivan with its hatch open to reveal bags and bags of groceries that she was home.
The house was a big white structure with gables that held steep peaks and perfectly maintained landscaping. There were large flowerpots on the front porch overflowing with flowers. Cole and I parked at the curb and headed up the drive.
The kids—maybe between twelve and fourteen—spotted us first and stopped chasing each other. I waved to show them that we were friendly. They stood there motionless.
“Hello?” I heard to my left.
Cole and I turned to see a very thin woman coming out of an open door. Dressed in a sleeveless shirt and short shorts, her limbs, while toned, were painfully thin. Her skin was tan and a bit weathered, and her shoulder-length brown hair looked dry and brittle, as if it was unhealthy. But she had a very pretty face, even if it was a little gaunt.
She moved over to the minivan and set her hands on two of the bags. “Can I help you?” she asked.
Cole stepped forward. “Hi, Mrs. Schroder?”
She nodded.
“I’m Cole, and this is Lily. We’re juniors at Chamberlain High. We’re on the school newspaper and we’re researching an article for our first column of the year. It’s an exposé on Amber Greeley and Ben Spencer. We’re trying to come at it from the angle that Amber didn’t really murder Ben, and we heard you were close to Amber in high school. We’d like to hear what you think might’ve happened that night.”
She squinted at him, as if trying to take in all that he’d said and make sense of it enough to be able to comment. “You said your name was Cole?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, without offering his last name, which is what I thought she was fishing for.
“Cole Drepeau?” she said.
Cole and I exchanged a surprised look.
“Uh…yes, ma’am. How’d you know?”
“I have a brother who used to work for your dad before he moved back to Canada. He’s met your mom, and he even met you when you were a baby. Plus, you look like Spence.” Mrs. Schroder then grabbed one of the bags and handed it to him. “Come on, you two. Help me with the groceries, and we’ll have a chat.”
We emptied the minivan and followed Britta inside. She held herself with a bit of an air, especially when she looked me up and down. It was weird because it was a sort of quietly aggressive move that I’d expect from other girls my age, not someone old enough to be my mom.
We entered the back door into the kitchen, and I’d never seen a space so sparkling white. The cabinets were white. The countertops were white marble. White bar stools. White floors. The appliances at least were silver and offered a small amount of contrast.
Still…the interior of her kitchen reminded me of an operating room, and then I remembered that her husband was a plastic surgeon. I wondered, suddenly, if she might have heard of my dad.
“So!” she said as she began to put the groceries away. “You two think Amber was innocent, huh?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, standing close to Cole. Britta gave off a weird vibe, and for whatever reason, I didn’t think I liked or trusted her.
She paused at the open fridge to smirk at me. “Well, that’s cute,” she said. “But I know that Amber did it. Spence dumped her and she snapped and shot him, then acted like she had nothing to do with it until the guilt caught up with her.”
Cole rubbed the back of his neck and said, “Yeah, I hear you, but we’ve learned some stuff that might be pointing us in another direction.”
“Oh?” she asked, pausing again with her hand halfway inside the grocery bag.
“We heard that there was something going on between Spence and a teacher. Mr. Bishop.”
Britta’s brow rose up. “That twerp? Oh, please. He didn’t have the backbone to kill Spence.”
“Then you heard about the issue between them?” Cole said carefully.
Britta rolled her eyes. “Honey, I heard about everything. At that school, I was dialed in! Spence and Bishop brought it on themselves. I mean, you don’t get a below-average score on your SATs two times running, and then suddenly score in the ninetieth percentile without somebody noticing. Spence’s scholarship to play football at UCLA was taken away and Bishop got suspended, but I heard he moved to Bumpass and did okay for himself, so where’s the harm? He hated teaching. It was probably the best thing that ever happened to him.”
“Why are you so sure that Spence broke up with Amber at prom?” I asked. What she’d said earlier bothered me. It felt untrue.
“Because that night, Spence gave a note to his best friend to give to Amber, telling her that they were breaking up.”
I was stunned. “What note?” Cole asked. “We didn’t hear anything about a breakup note.”
Britta shook her head. “I never saw it, but my boyfriend, who was Spence’s best friend, told me all about it. He said he gave the note to Amber out in the hallway, and she read it in front of him, then ran off, probably to find Spence. I’ll bet he still feels responsible for setting things in motion. Anyway, he made me promise not to tell anybody about it, not even the police. I had misgivings about that, but then Amber killed herself and that sort of settled things. Plus I didn’t want to get my boyfriend in trouble. He and Spence cheated on those SATs together, only Spence was the one who got caught.”
“Spence’s best friend told you this?” I said. “You mean, Grady Weaver?”
Britta stiffened and curled her lip at me. “Grady was a little douchebag and definitely not Spence’s best friend.”
“Bill Metcalf?” Cole tried.
Again, Britta rolled her eyes. She was good at that. “I’m talking about Jamie.”
Cole and I exchanged glances. That was the first time we’d heard the name. “Jamie?” Cole said. “Jamie who?”
Britta turned with her hands full of produce back to the fridge. “For investigative reporters, you two sure miss a lot. I’m talking about the high and mighty Jamie Bennett.” At the mention of my father’s name, I sucked in a breath and held it. “There’s another douchebag for you,” Britta went on. “He dumped me the day after Amber killed herself. What a jerk. I hear he’s some big cardiac surgeon in Richmond now. My husband said that Bennett just dumped his wife and got his receptionist pregnant. Tells you what sort of a guy he is, huh?”
There was a loud clack on the floor as my cell phone fell out of my hands and hit the tile. Cole put an arm around my middle to steady me and reached for the phone.
I watched in a heart-pounding daze as Britta turned around to look at me. “You okay?” she asked.
I’d gone from holding my breath to taking in short, panicked pants, and I could feel the throbbing of blood in my ears as my heart raced.
“We should go,” Cole said, taking me by the hand and easing me toward the door.
“What’s wrong with her?” Britta asked.
“Nothing,” Cole said. “Thank you, Mrs. Schroder.”
I sensed my legs moving more than I felt them, and even though my body was starting to rebel against me, my thoughts were crystal clear and terrifying.
We made it to Cole’s car, and he gently eased me inside. My eyes were barely open because I was trying so hard to focus on breathing. Sweat trickled down my back and matted my hair to my head. My arms and legs were trembling, and if Cole hadn’t been there, talking soothingly to me, I’m positive I would’ve blacked out.
He got in next to me and started up the car, blasting the AC and turning all the vents toward me. It actually helped.
At last, my breathing slowed down and the panic attack subsided. “Tal
k to me,” he said.
“She was talking about my father, Cole. My father!”
“Your dad?” he said. “Are you sure?”
I began to check off the facts on my fingers. “My father’s name is James. It’s possible he went by the name Jamie when he was younger. He also grew up in Fredericksburg, and he probably attended Chamberlain High. He’s never talked to me about his childhood, not even high school, and now I think it’s because he’s had something to hide. Plus he would’ve been eighteen in nineteen eighty-seven. He also just dumped his wife—my mom—because he got his receptionist pregnant!”
Cole sat there, looking at me with such sympathy. I could tell he was also putting a few things together. It was all making sense now. The discordant pieces. The betrayal. The lies. The cover-up.
“He and Spence cheated on their SATs. Spence got caught and got into that fistfight with my dad over it. Maybe he threatened to rat out my dad. Maybe my dad killed him, and convinced his parents to help him cover it up. Maybe they bribed the schoolteacher who helped him cheat with the beach house.”
“We don’t know that your dad had anything to do with Spence’s murder,” Cole said.
I laughed mirthlessly. “Oh, come on,” I said. “You heard Britta. My dad’s an asshole. He’s cold, calculating, ruthless. He threw my mom and me away like litter. He’s a bastard. He could’ve totally killed them, Cole. He could’ve.”
After confessing that, I dissolved into a puddle of tears.
BRITTA WAS CRYING IN THE LADIES’ ROOM, and I was so mad at her that I couldn’t really drum up much sympathy, but for the sake of ten years of friendship, I tried.
“Britt? Are you going to come out of that stall so we can talk?” I asked, raising my voice above her sobs.
“Leave me alone, Amber!”
I leaned my head against the stall door and closed my eyes. “Did you really expect it’d be okay, Britt?” I asked her. “I mean, you came to prom with Jamie on your arm and acted like you didn’t even know us, and then you wanted us to care that he ignored you all night and left you at the punch bowl?”
“You should’ve let us come to dinner with you!” she screeched.
“Britt,” I said, trying to keep my voice level. “Come on, honey, you know Spence was never going to go to dinner with Jamie. I wanted nothing more than to have you at our table, but you made it impossible for us to include you when you said yes to him.”
The door suddenly opened and I had a good look at Britta’s tearstained face. “It wasn’t like anybody else was asking me, Amber,” she choked out.
And that’s when I knew what this was really about. “Oh, Britt,” I said, taking her in my arms. She sobbed on my shoulder and I winced at how skinny she was. “You’re a beautiful girl, and I know that you know that. You could’ve just come with us and had a good time.”
Britt whimpered and wiped her cheeks with hands. “It’s not the same as having a gorgeous guy as your date,” she said. “I just wanted someone to like me enough to ask me to the dance, Amber. I know Jamie and Spence aren’t friends anymore, but it was so nice to have someone like him ask me, you know?”
I bit my lip. “You never thought that Jamie had an ulterior motive, Britt?”
She backed away from me in an instant. “What’re you saying?” she demanded.
“Isn’t it obvious? If Jamie got you to come tonight, he knew it’d make Spence mad.”
Britt’s jaw dropped. “You take that back, Amber,” she said.
There was such hurt in her eyes. Dammit! I thought. I never should’ve told her.
“I take it back,” I said. “I’m sorry. I think it’s that I just don’t trust him. Not where my best friend is concerned.”
Britta eyed me suspiciously. “He asked me because he likes me,” she insisted.
“Of course he did,” I said. Then I offered: “Jamie has always said he thought you were pretty.”
Britta wiped her cheeks again, appearing at least a little mollified. “He has?”
“He has. And I’m so sorry that it worked out like this, Britt. I love you, and I don’t want us to be angry at each other.”
She looked at me then and wrapped her thin arms around my neck. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, Amber. I should’ve turned him down, but I was so flattered, you know?”
“I do,” I said. “And it’s okay.” I patted her back until she calmed down, and when she let go of me I smiled to reassure her. “Why don’t you take a minute to fix your makeup, and I’ll meet you back out on the dance floor? You, me, and Sara can all dance together. Screw the boys and their stupid fight, right?”
She laughed wetly and nodded. “Okay. But give me a few minutes. I must look a mess!”
I gave her arm a gentle squeeze, then headed out of the ladies’ room to find Jamie and give him a piece of my mind. It was one thing to be mad at Spence. It was a completely different thing to use one of my best friends like a pawn in his game of war with my boyfriend. But first, I wanted to find Spence and make sure he was okay.
Despite our talk a week ago, he’d continued to be withdrawn and distant with me, but tonight he’d shown up with a radiant smile, and he looked so beautiful I could hardly take my eyes off of him. He’d treated me like a queen, and it was just like it was before all this UCLA and SAT business started.
And then, a half hour ago, we’d been dancing to a slow song and he’d said, “You know I’ll always love you, right, Ambi? Forever. And if forever ever ends, then I’ll love you all over again.”
It was such a funny thing to say—“if forever ever ends”—but it was so sweet, too. Approaching Bill, I said, “Have you seen Spence?”
Bill motioned to the exit. “He left about ten minutes ago. Said he was gonna go cool off.”
Spence and Jamie had gotten into it again right after our slow dance. No fists this time, but plenty of words. Britta had tried to defend Jamie, and he’d told her to shut up, which was why she’d run off to the ladies’ room.
“Where’s Jamie?” I asked Bill, thinking it would be the perfect time to yell at him myself.
“He walked out, too,” he said. “About five minutes before Spence.”
“Oh, boy,” I muttered, and hurried toward the exit.
Out in the hallway I tried to decide where either of them might be. I started with the parking lot—no sign of them—then I moved through the halls searching each section. When I got toward the back of the school I heard a car backfire, and wondered at it sounding loud enough from the road to echo into the school.
Then I finally found Jamie, wandering the halls of the science wing. He saw me and froze, and there was something in his expression—something so sad that my anger faded away. I walked quickly to him.
“Hey,” I said. “We need to talk about Britta—”
Unexpectedly, he reached down and picked up my hand. “I talked to Spence,” he said, interrupting me.
“I saw,” I said, pulling back on my hand, but Jamie held tight.
“No,” he said. “Amber, we talked it all out. Spence and I are cool. He…” Jamie paused, and I was surprised to see his lip quivering. “He wanted me to give you this.” Jamie placed a note in my hand.
I looked down at the tightly folded piece of paper with my name on it. “He told me that he’s breaking it off with you, and he couldn’t do it in person. I’m really, really sorry.”
“I’M SORRY,” I SAID, WIPING MY CHEEKS. I hadn’t been able to stop crying for the past five minutes.
“Hey,” Cole said, putting a hand on the side of my face to get me to look at him. “You’re good, Lily. Don’t worry about it. The question is, what do you want to do?”
I swallowed hard and wiped another tear away. “What do I want to do?”
“Yeah,” Cole said. “We can drop all of this, you know. All of it.”
A small, mirthless laugh escaped me. “My father could’ve killed your uncle and you’d be willing to just…drop it?”
Cole
’s lips pressed together. “Yeah,” he said. “If your dad was involved, Lily, what good would come of it? It’d ruin his life, your life, and probably my mom’s life, too. Plus, if your grandmother was involved in the cover-up, she’d probably get carted off to jail as well.”
I shook my head. My evil grandmother. Everybody feared her. Well, except for my dad. And suddenly, I wondered why. Why hadn’t he ever been afraid of her?
“We need to confront him,” I said. If my dad had never been afraid of his mother, maybe I didn’t need to be afraid of him.
Cole looked at me admirably. “You’re sure?”
“Yes,” I said. “Positive.”
“When?”
I pointed to the road in front of us. “Now’s good.”
We were in Richmond twenty minutes later, and I directed Cole to my old address. When he pulled up to the locked gate, I gave him the code and we drove through while I sweated about who would greet us at the door.
I knew someone inside would be alerted to the gate opening, because any time the code was punched in, there was a small ping from the alarm panel.
Sure enough, as Cole parked next to my dad’s Jag, the front door opened and his pregnant girlfriend stepped out onto the top step to put her hands on her hips and glare down at us.
“You can’t just enter the gate without calling the house,” she snapped as we got out of the car.
I walked purposefully up the steps, narrowing my eyes at her and silently daring her to try to stop me. Pregnant or not, she wasn’t gonna prevent me from confronting my father.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she demanded when I started to push past her.
“Inside my house,” I told her.
She stepped in front of me, blocking the entrance. “Don’t you have another place to call home now?” she sang meanly.
I looked her in the eyes and said, “No, Jenny, I have two places to call home now. As much as you’d like it to be different, this is still my home.”
“Not as long as I have anything to say about it,” she insisted, putting her large belly in my path to block me from entering. I squared my shoulders and stepped forward. I was taller than Jenny, and I stared her down as I began to press in against her and move her backward.