Hush Money
I started swearing a blue streak in my head, but I kept looking him in the eye. I couldn’t show weakness now, even though I thought I could see where this was going, and I was terrified about what my answer would have to be.
He flicked the hair back off my shoulder, just a quick, light brush to see if he could touch me without me hauling off and knocking his teeth out. And I so wanted to. With some concentration on my part, the air between us would gather and focus and then blast him back into the bricks on the other side of the courtyard. But I had to hold it back. His hand settled on my cheek.
This is what Trina felt like when you didn’t help her.
“You want me to be your girlfriend,” I guessed.
“Well…yes and no. See, I’m at a point in my life where I don’t feel like I want to be tied down to one ‘girlfriend’ per se. But of course I am interested in female companionship from time to time, and I could be interested in your female companionship on a fairly regular basis, say—”
“You piece of shit!” Dylan just came in out of nowhere, shoving Marco back, away from me. “She’s not gonna be your…”
“Whore, Dylan. The word is whore.”
I grabbed onto Dylan’s raised arm, putting all my weight into it and wishing, not for the first time, that I could control animate objects as well as inanimate ones. Then I could just make Marco walk off a bridge or something.
“Dylan, cut it out,” I said. “This doesn’t concern you.”
Chapter 15
Dylan
Marco had a laugh at that.
“The two of you,” he shook his head. “Doesn’t it look like this concerns him?”
I really wanted to beat his face in, but it was stupid, me standing there, pretending like I could, and knowing I’d never walk away. I lowered my arm. I had the urge to draw Joss against me, put her behind me, make some kind of he-man statement that she was under my protection. But who was I kidding? Not either one of them.
“I mean, you’ve got no idea, Joss, what this guy’s been willing to do to keep your dad’s issues a secret. And now he’s willing to go to the mat for you over a little name-calling, let alone the rest of what we were talking about.”
“I wish you would shut the fuck up.”
“You knew? About my dad?”
I turned to her, unsure of what to say or how she was going to react to that. I guess I should have told her I knew? I wasn’t sure. Whatever I decided, it was always the wrong thing.
“Marco found out from someone at the hospital, a long time ago. He told me back then, and I thought he was going to keep it to himself. I’d pretty much forgotten about it until he brought it up last week.”
“Why did he—?”
“Because I wanted something from Dylan, something that’s not your business. Given his obvious interest in you lately, I thought it was time to pull that one out of my hat. Worked like a charm, too.”
“But he’s your friend.”
Marco narrowed his eyes on me. “I thought that too. But I think we’ve been growing apart.”
“I’d say so.”
“But still, he’s got his uses. Want to tell her how useful you are?”
“No.”
“I think you’re right about that. The less she knows, the better. Girls are so chatty. Take little Miss Jill, for example.”
“Seriously, dude, leave her alone. She’s just a little kid.” I was wondering how much rage I could hold back before I just exploded. By the time I had left Joss the day before, Marco had disappeared. He was good at avoiding me when he wanted to, especially when he had Jeff to run interference for him, like he’d had all day today. So I hadn’t even been able to confront him about Joss’s accusations. Didn’t need to now.
“Oh, I want to leave her alone. But I’ve got bills to pay.”
“What is up with your obsessive need for cash lately?”
“That’s none of your business!” Marco snapped, looking deadly. “You and I have a deal and part of it is that my business is my business.”
“Take my share then.”
“Your share of what?” Joss asked.
I ignored her. “I was getting a share, right? That’s what you told us. I’ll do what I said I’d do, you keep my share, and you leave Joss and her family alone.”
“How do you know your share was worth that much?”
“Because you can’t pull this off without—”
“Just…watch what you say.”
I turned to Joss who was completely unreadable as usual. “Would you go home, please, so we can work this out?”
“No,” she said indignantly, and maybe with an edge of concern? Or maybe that was just my imagination. “What are you doing? You can’t—”
“Joss, please. Just go, ok?”
“Yeah, Joss. I’m intrigued by what Dylan thinks he has to bargain with, so you just run along home.”
“Please.” I added.
She looked from one of us to the other, shook her head. “Don’t be stupid.”
Too late for that, I thought as I watched her walk away. Then I turned back to negotiate with my ex-best-friend.
Satan.
* * *
Joss
What the hell?
That was really the thrust of my thoughts. They’d go off in one direction and then off in another but that’s the phrase I kept coming back to. I was seriously down the rabbit hole. Everything was going wrong, everything was crazy—
Speaking of crazy, my dad was the one who was supposed to pick up Jill today and would be waiting at home for me. As soon as I thought that, I felt bad about it. My dad wasn’t crazy, not really, he just got really stressed out and then his reactions weren’t exactly within the normal range. But hey, what about our family was normal anyway? The point was that dad was going to grill me about why I was late and I was afraid that I was too distracted by all the crazy to lie effectively. It was one of those rare times when I was wishing a friend would see me walking and stop by to give me a ride home.
And wasn’t making friends what got me into this whole mess in the first place?
The blast of a car horn right next to me made me jump and a door swung open.
Okay, that’s just weird.
Not just weird, though. It was also scary and irritating when I leaned down and saw Dobbs behind the wheel.
“Need a ride, Jocelyn?”
“Oh, no thanks, Mr. Dobbs. It’s a pretty nice day. I was actually looking forward to the walk.”
“Hmm. Well, look Joss, Marco Finelli came to see me this morning, and our conversation brought up a few questions I’d like to ask you. I thought maybe we could chat now, but if you’d rather I could call your parents in and we could have a conference during school hours. I figured this way you wouldn’t have to miss any class.”
“Oh, well, that’s a good idea,” I said, getting into the car. What else could I do? “I don’t really like missing class.”
“Such a good student.”
He pulled away from the curb and headed toward our neighborhood. The good news was that I didn’t live too far away by car, so this couldn’t go on too long. But still, I was going to be a lot more careful what I wished for from here out. Clearly the Universe was listening—with the sole purpose of smiting me for Its own amusement.
“Marco was kind enough to bring me some interesting photographs taken by the authorities after that rather upsetting episode at the Dawson home over the weekend.”
“Really? How did he get those?”
“I really didn’t ask, Jocelyn. I believe Marco has some…connections. Suffice it to say that he knows I take an interest in these sorts of…occurrences, if you will, and brought me copies of these photographs.” He pulled a large, clasp envelope from between the seats. “Here, take a look.”
Opening that envelope was about the last thing I wanted to do. The last time I’d seen an envelope of photos someone had received from Marco they’d scared the crap out of me. But at the same time, there
was no way I could refuse. I had to know.
The first picture wasn’t even of Kat’s house. I was sure of that. It was a black and white photo, a little grainy, but the kitchen was much smaller, and seemed…dated. Although that was really hard to tell because every one of the cabinets was pulled from the walls. And yeah, that creeped me out. I could see where this was going, but still, something nagged at me about it. Like I should know this. And then I saw the charred wood at the edges of the scene.
“No, not that one,” Dobbs interrupted my inner freak-out. “Look at the next one.”
The other photo was my first glimpse of what I’d done to Kat’s kitchen. Wow. I knew when I did it that it was bad, but…Wow. Just a few days ago I had been in that kitchen, that big, spacious, immaculately clean and modern kitchen, helping Kat get ready for the party. In the photo I held it looked like a wrecking crew had been in, stripped it down for a complete remodel, and just piled up the old stuff against a wall like so much garbage.
Only the wrecking crew had been just me.
Joss Marshall: Homewrecker.
“I find it interesting, how similar the two photos are, don’t you? As soon as I saw this one, it just struck me as so familiar that I had to run home during my lunch hour and pull that other one off my home computer.”
I shrugged. “It’s two messed up kitchens.”
“Doesn’t that first one look familiar to you at all?”
“No, should it?”
“Well, I realize you were very young at the time, but that’s the kitchen where the fire department found Emily Gianni, Trina Halston, and you.”
“Oh,” I said. I didn’t really have a glib reply. I mean, I had kind of figured that out, but I was still trying to process it. I totally didn’t remember doing any of that. But then, that whole thing was so jumbled in my mind. We were so scared, panicked—
“It’s interesting, don’t you think, the fact that you seem to be common denominator in these two incidents?”
I shrugged. “I think it doesn’t take much to qualify as interesting with you. But I guess that’s nice for a guy like you who doesn’t get out too much. But then, neither do I,” I added quickly, as though I hadn’t meant anything by it. “What made you think I was there? At the party I mean.”
“Marco. He was kind enough to give me information about who attended, including his recollection about who was inside the house at the time the agents were attacked, and names he’s gathered from others after the fact. Naturally, when your name came up, it stood out for me, since we’re neighbors and I’ve known you and your family for such a long time. I do take a special interest in you, you know. And look, here we are.”
He pulled into his driveway and I hopped out of the car before he’d turned off the engine. I did not want to get trapped in there for one more minute.
“Well, thanks a lot for the ride.”
“My pleasure, Jocelyn. Anytime.”
I threw him a fake smile and started down the driveway.
“And Joss?”
Reluctantly, I turned around.
“Anytime you want to talk, you know. I’m always watching out for you.”
Don’t I know it.
* * *
Dylan
I walked over to Joss’s house feeling tired and sick, and wishing that dealing with Marco as an adversary didn’t make me shake in my boots. If I wanted to be all self-analytical, I guess that’s why I’d stayed friends with him for so long and made myself ignore what a jerk he was growing into. Because as long as I was his friend, I knew I was safe. From him and probably from anyone who’d want to mess with me.
I knew Rob hoped that I could get us out of the bank job, but he was just going to have to deal, like I was. Just like Kat was going to have to work her own stuff out. At least I could tell Joss that everything was taken care of where she was concerned, and that her family was safe, for now.
I walked up to the door and rang the bell. I thought I deserved to entertain a fantasy, as I stood there waiting, about her throwing herself into my arms in gratitude. But I was feeling too much like a beat-down loser to really get into it.
And because that’s just how things were going, it wasn’t Joss who answered, but her dad, and he did not look happy to see me.
“What do you want?”
“Uh, hi, Mr. Marshall. I…just dropped by…to talk to Joss. Is…she around?”
“She’s not seeing anyone.”
“Oh. Um, is she ok?” She was probably really upset when she left us. I thought it was clear that I was going to report back to her on what Marco and I talked about, but maybe she didn’t mention that to her dad and locked herself in her room or something.
“She’s fine. But she’s not having any visitors.”
“Oh. Ok. Well, maybe you could just tell her I stopped by and that I’ll call her later?”
“No phone calls. My daughter doesn’t need you or any of your friends getting her into trouble.”
“Did she tell you that?”
“I’m telling you that!”
“Yes sir.” Damn, take my head off, too. “Mr. Marshall, what happened at that party, that wasn’t our fault. I mean, sure, there were some Talents there who got out of hand, but I think if you’d been there, you’d have to agree that they were—”
“Maxwell, I have zero interest in your analysis of last weekend’s events. I know what happened and whose fault it was. And Jocelyn is clear that it’s in her best interests not to have anything to do with the likes of you or any of that crowd. So you need to go and take your interest elsewhere. Are we clear, son?”
“Crystal. Sir.”
“That’s fine then.”
Then he shut the door in my face.
I could feel him watching me as I shuffled back to the sidewalk and down the street. I really wanted to talk to Joss. I told myself that it was because I didn’t want her to keep worrying about Marco demanding money or—anything else. I wasn’t even going to think about what else he’d said to her because it still made my blood boil. Her dad was probably really stressing her out, since the party, and there was the whole thing with Jill that she was crazy upset over—with good reason. I could tell her tomorrow, but I just didn’t think she should have to lose anymore sleep over Marco.
Plus, yeah, I just wanted to see her. That’s why I didn’t just call. And now, with what her dad said, I guess I kinda wanted to see if the fact that she was “clear” about her best interests meant that she actually agreed with him.
I walked up someone’s driveway, between where their chimney stuck out from their house and where their giant SUV was parked, a place that afforded me as much cover as anywhere else I was going to find, and disappeared. Then I walked back to Joss’s.
I had no idea where her room was in the house, or even if she would be in it. But there were a couple of good trees in the yard that looked sturdy and the little house had a wrap-around porch that meant most of the bedrooms would have windows over a gently sloped roof. Let’s just say I had snuck into places that were more complicated than that.
I moved carefully, trying not to shake the tree any more than the wind would, trying to keep my footsteps light on the porch roof, testing my steps before I took them, looking for loose shingles. Because let’s face it, slipping, bouncing off the roof, and falling to my doom was not the stealthy way to go.
When I found Joss’s room, I wasn’t surprised to find it pretty Spartan, and more neat because there just wasn’t much to make a mess with, than neat with military precision. Joss was lying on her stomach, with her head on her crossed arms, and her face was turned away from me. I wondered if she was sleeping, but my toes were falling asleep from squatting down at the window, so I tapped on it.
She immediately bolted up in bed and I could see that she’d been crying. In a moment of panic, I thought about winking out again, but I didn’t. I just kind of lamely waved at her through the window. She swiped at her face as she ran over, did something with a set of wires on
the sill, and pushed the window up.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Chapter 16
Joss
I honestly don’t know what was worse, the shock of having Dylan crouched on my roof, the terror that my dad would come storming up the stairs at any moment and kill him, or the mortification that Dylan had caught me crying like a girl and looking more hag-like than usual.
“Did you know your dad said no phone calls and no visitors?” He gave me that crooked smile of his that usually made me go completely dumb, but right now was just too ridiculous. Did everyone in this town just love living on the edge?
I actually grabbed him by the front of his jacket and hauled him into the room. “What if someone sees you up there? What if they tell my dad? What if he comes up here and shoots you? Jesus.”
That seemed to make him think. He cocked his head. “You really think he’d shoot me?”
“I might shoot you. What. Are. You. Doing here?”
“I came to tell you the rest of what happened with Marco. I guess I kinda thought you’d be interested.”
“Well, yeah, I just didn’t think—I’m sorry.” I flopped down on the footlocker at the end of my bed, wiping my face again with a push my hair back gesture that I hoped wasn’t too obvious. “You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.”
“Tree climbing is one of my specialties,” he said, sitting next to me. I wondered if it looked like I left him room to sit there on purpose.
“I’ll bet.”
We were quiet for a moment, and we were alone, so I thought maybe it was best to just get this part over with.
“I’m sorry I hit you.”
“Oh, yeah,” he said, rubbing his cheek. “I forgot about that.”
Boys. “And I’m sorry I accused you of being in on Marco’s blackmail thing, and trying to distract me so he could trick my sister, and whatever other nasty thing I said to you. Clearly, I was wrong.”