When

  I set the menu down. Donny had me and he knew it. “Stubby and I went to the Poplar game against Jupiter last Friday night. We sat on Jupiter’s side, and Stubby pointed out this new cheerleader on their squad, Payton Wyly, that he had a crush on. We were near enough to her so that I could read her deathdate.”

  He went a little pale. “Is she dead?”

  I nodded. “Wednesday.”

  “Son of a bitch,” he hissed, closing his own menu and shaking his head. “Please tell me you kept that to yourself.”

  I took a sip of water but had a hard time swallowing.

  “Madelyn?” Donny said sternly. “Please tell me you didn’t share that with anyone.”

  I took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “I told Stubby.”

  Donny blinked. “And?”

  “See, Stubs really did have a huge crush on this girl, so he was really upset—”

  Donny buried his face in his hands. “Jesus,” he mumbled. “What’d he do?”

  I took another sip of water. My hands were shaking like Ma’s. “It’s what we did, Donny.”

  Donny parted his fingers and looked at me with one eye. “What did the two of you do, Maddie?”

  “We sent her a birthday card.”

  The hands fell away and revealed his slack jaw. “You sent her a birthday card? Why the hell would you do that?”

  “Payton’s birthday was Wednesday, the same day as her deathdate. We wanted to warn her, but we didn’t know how, and I’d promised you that I wasn’t going to tell anybody their deathdate, but we couldn’t just let her die without warning her, Donny!” My voice had risen, and my eyes misted. I was starting to get overcome by what’d happened.

  Donny laid a hand on my arm and said, “Hey, sweet girl, take a breath. Tell me what happened and we’ll figure it out, okay?”

  I wiped my eyes and tried to calm myself, feeling embarrassed because we were in a public place and I was sure I’d called attention to us. When I felt calmer, I told him what we’d done. “We took the card to Starbucks, and Stubby wrote out a message. He broke his arm last Sunday, so it disguised his writing pretty good. Anyway, we pretended to be Payton’s secret admirer, and we told her that we were someone who sometimes had visions of things before they happened. We said that we’d had a vision of her getting hurt in an accident, and we wanted her to be really careful when she drove her new car—we overheard Payton at the football game telling the other cheerleaders that she was getting a new car for her birthday.”

  Donny nodded, but his expression was grave. “Okay, so is that all you said in the card?”

  “No. We also said that she needed to be careful on her birthday because the stars suggested it wasn’t a safe day for her.”

  Donny closed his eyes as if that was the worst thing we could’ve written. Finally he said, “Okay…is that it?”

  “Yeah, mostly. Stubby mailed the card, but we both were careful to handle it using our sleeves. I don’t think either one of us ever touched it with our fingers.”

  “The card went out on what day?”

  “Monday. We mailed it from the Jupiter post office so it’d get there by Tuesday.”

  “What return address did you use?”

  “We didn’t. We kept it blank.”

  Donny sighed and shook his head. “Kiddo…” he said, and I knew he thought it was bad.

  “I’m sorry, Donny!” I told him. “We only wanted to try and save her. We didn’t think it’d turn out like it did with Tevon.”

  Donny reached out again and squeezed my hand. “Well, kiddo,” he said, “the feds haven’t come around your house holding the card in an evidence bag, so I guess that’s a good thing. They would’ve gone through everything in Payton’s room by now, so if it was there and could be traced back to you, they’d have done that by now. Maybe she got it Tuesday, thought it was a joke, and threw it out.”

  I nodded. I sincerely hoped that’s exactly what’d happened.

  “So until this becomes an issue, you don’t tell anyone about this card, capisce?”

  “Okay.”

  “If the feds haul us in and ask us about it, though, you’ll have to tell them the truth.”

  I looked down at the table, dreading that thought. “I know.”

  “Hopefully, it won’t come to that. In the meantime, do me another favor,” he said.

  “What?”

  “The next time you see the deathdate of anybody who’s about to die, you call me first before you send them a card or a gift basket or anything else you can think of to get around my direct order.”

  It was clear that Donny was trying to make light in order to cheer me up, so I attempted a smile and held up three fingers. “Yes, sir. Scout’s honor.”

  But Donny looked taken aback.

  “What?” I asked.

  It was his turn to smile sadly. “Nothing,” he said. “It’s just that your dad used to do that. Three fingers and Scout’s honor. It was funny because he got kicked out of the Scouts when he was twelve for being dishonest.”

  I laughed, surprised by the lightness between us again at the mention of my dad. “I never knew that.”

  Donny sighed and his gaze dropped to the table again. “I miss him, Maddie.”

  And just like that all the humor left me. That happened a lot with the memory of my dad. It could make me laugh and cry at the same time.

  “Donny?” I asked after a bit, still worrying about the possibility of being accused of Payton’s death.

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you think I’ll be okay?”

  It was Donny’s turn to push a smile onto his face as he held up three fingers. “Sure, kiddo,” he said. “Scout’s honor.”

  I didn’t have it in me to ask Donny if he’d been kicked out of the Scouts, too.

  PAYTON WYLY’S BODY WAS DISCOVERED early the next morning. I found out when Donny called me after breakfast and said he was headed our way again. The feds were asking us to come back in for another meet and greet, and I felt a terrible foreboding.

  Ma had been at work at the Drug Mart until late the night before, and was still in bed by the time Donny arrived, so we left her to sleep and headed to downtown Grand Haven. The bureau offices were again buzzing with activity, and this time when we came through the doors we found Faraday waiting for us. He walked us back to a room with a two-way mirror on the wall, and an overhead fluorescent bulb that gave our skin a sickly hue.

  Donny and I sat down and Faraday asked us if we wanted anything to drink. I’d brought my own bottled water this time, and Donny declined, but Faraday left us anyway, saying that he was going for some coffee.

  We waited patiently for him, but after twenty minutes it was clear that he was leaving us to sweat. Donny got up to pace and he even went to the door, but he found it locked, and that seemed to infuriate him. After two hours the door opened, and in walked Faraday. He had a records storage box with him and he set it on the table in front of us. My heart was pounding. I knew that whatever was in that box was bad.

  “Have a seat,” he said to Donny and me.

  Donny started in on him right away. “Is my niece under arrest?” he barked, pointing to the door. “Because we came down here, Faraday, on our own good faith, and you locked us up in here without charging her, which is illegal.”

  Faraday cocked his head, and he wore a mocking sort of smile that I knew only angered Donny more. “Was the door locked? Huh. Sorry about that. Sometimes the door sticks, like at your sister-in-law’s house, and it can be a real pain to open.”

  Donny’s fists clenched, and I could tell he wanted to storm right out of there, but Faraday calmly lifted the lid of the box and peered inside like he had a secret treasure he couldn’t wait to show us.

  Donny looked at me, raising an eyebrow. I shook my head slightly. I had no idea what was in the box. With a sigh, my uncle took his seat and crossed his arms. He’d put up with this little charade only as long as it took for Faraday to deal his hand, then I knew he’d
demand to leave.

  Faraday sat down, but kept the contents of the box hidden from us. “As you may have heard,” he began, “we found Payton Wyly’s body early this morning down by the Waliki River about a half mile from where Tevon Tibbolt’s remains were discovered.” My mouth went dry. I knew that much, but it was still hard to hear. He then reached into the box and pulled out an evidence bag. Inside was what looked like a torn-up image of a kitten with its paw raised. It’d been taped back together a bit haphazardly, but I recognized it immediately as the card we’d sent to Payton. Donny scowled. My efforts to save Payton had just come back to haunt me.

  “Know what this is?” Faraday asked me.

  I didn’t even have to look at Donny to see if I should answer. He’d already told me at the restaurant the day before. “Yes,” I said. “It’s a card that Stubs and I sent to Payton Wyly.”

  Faraday’s brow shot up. He seemed surprised by my answer.

  I knew I had to tell him why we’d sent it, so I began with the football game, pointing out that I’d seen both him and Wallace there, and while we were in the stands I’d seen Payton’s deathdate. “It was coming so soon that I freaked out when I saw it,” I explained. “I left the stands, and Stubby came after me, so I told him what I’d seen. He wanted to go back then and there and warn her, but with you guys in the bleachers and all the stuff that happened after I read for Mrs. Tibbolt, I didn’t think that was such a good idea.”

  Donny leaned forward. “I had also told my niece that she was not to verbalize any deathdate she saw to anyone.”

  I nodded. “Right. But Stubs and I both felt really bad for Payton, and we decided that we had to try something to warn her, so we bought that card and wrote out a message to mail to her. I know the message sounds weird, but we didn’t know what to say to get her to listen to us. We’d overheard her tell her friends that she was getting a new car for her birthday, and we kind of assumed she was going to be in a car accident. Neither one of us thought it would end like…”

  My voice trailed off. It was still hard for me to fathom that Payton had been murdered.

  Faraday was eyeing me with intense scrutiny. I couldn’t tell if he believed me or not. “You didn’t think it would end like what, Maddie? Like this?” And he reached inside his box and pulled out a photograph, slapping it down on the table in front of us.

  I looked away. He’d used this tactic before, and I didn’t want to go through it again. “Jesus!” Donny hissed. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him flip the photo over. “Really, Faraday? My niece is sixteen! Quit trying to shock a reaction out of her by showing her these crime scene photos!”

  Faraday reached out and flipped the picture back over. I didn’t look away fast enough, and I caught a glimpse of Payton’s face, her eyes open, her cheeks swollen and bruised, a gash on her forehead, and a large open wound at her neck. My eyes watered, and I squeezed them shut. I heard Donny’s chair scrape the floor. “Maddie,” he said. “We’re leaving.”

  “Oh, I’d advise against that,” Faraday said. I peeked out at him, and he was leaning back in his chair as if he double-dog dared Donny to leave. “At least not until you hear me out, Fynn.”

  Donny picked up the photo and tossed it at the agent. “You have thirty seconds to tell us what you want, Faraday, and then I’m walking Maddie out of here, and if you even think about flashing another gruesome photo at her, I’ll be on the phone with the DOJ demanding they investigate your tactics before I’m even out of this building.”

  Faraday picked up the photo from the floor where it’d fallen and put it back in the box, but he still seemed really angry, and I could understand, because what’d happened to Payton looked worse than any nightmare I could imagine. But I wasn’t responsible. He had to know that.

  Faraday inhaled deeply, and it seemed like he was trying to rein in his anger. He then looked me square in the eye and tapped the evidence bag with the card and said, “Here’s the thing, Madelyn. We didn’t find this in Payton Wyly’s trash.” My brow furrowed. “We found it in Arnold Schroder’s trash can.”

  My jaw dropped. That made no sense! “See,” Faraday continued, “Agent Wallace and I went over to reconfirm you alibi with Schroder, to check if maybe he wanted to change his story. Your buddy stuck to the facts, but he was so nervous and jumpy that we felt he was hiding something. So, later that night we swung by again and noticed that he’d set out the trash. You don’t need a warrant to go through someone’s trash, did you know that? We picked up yours, too, by the way. You guys need to recycle more.”

  I felt the blood drain from my face. Ma hid her empties in the trash because she didn’t want our neighbors seeing how many liquor bottles were in the recycle bin.

  “So Schroder never mailed the card,” Donny said, the vein at his temple noticeably throbbing. I knew he was furious at the agent for that last comment. “Is that a crime now, Agent Faraday?”

  Faraday seemed to ignore him and went back to fishing around inside his box. I felt myself bracing for what might come next. He retrieved a sheet of paper and set it on the table. I was so tense and on edge that I immediately turned away. “Recognize him?” he asked.

  I didn’t look until I felt Donny’s hand on my arm, and then I focused on the piece of paper now on the table. It was an artist’s sketch of a man’s face, and even though it was a pretty rough sketch, the first person I thought of when I looked at it was Stubby.

  My pounding heart was like a wrecking ball in my chest. I knew that Faraday could tell I saw the similarity, but I smelled a trap, so I shook my head. “No,” I said, but it came out in a whisper.

  “Really?” Faraday said, all shock and awe. “You don’t recognize your own best friend, Maddie?”

  Donny was looking from me to Faraday. He smelled a trap, too. “You have her answer. What’s your point?”

  Faraday pulled out another document. It looked like a handwritten letter. Then he pulled out another and another and another. Donny lifted up the papers and began to read, but I was focused on Faraday, who in turn hadn’t taken his eyes off me. “Those are witness statements,” he said. “From Payton’s fellow cheerleaders. They all give pretty much the same story. They say that last Monday afternoon right after cheerleading practice, Payton was approached by the boy in that sketch and he had a pretty amazing story to tell her. He claimed that he was psychic, that he had visions that often came true, and that he’d seen Payton at a football game and was overcome by a vision of her being killed on her birthday. He didn’t give her his name, but he warned her not to drive her new car, which he said he’d also seen her getting for her birthday.”

  I felt my blood turn to ice. I knew instantly what Stubby had done. He’d taken the card after leaving me at Starbucks, and he’d had second thoughts about sending it, knowing it was likely Payton would think it was a joke. He’d probably decided then and there to ignore all my warnings and headed straight to Jupiter High only a few blocks away.

  And after I’d told him that Payton had been murdered and the feds had come back to question him about my alibi, he’d panicked by tearing up the card and throwing it out in the trash to get rid of the evidence.

  With a sudden horror I knew exactly where the feds were going with this. They thought Stubs had murdered Payton. And since her crime scene photo had resembled Tevon’s, it wasn’t a leap to think they’d try to pin his death on him, too.

  While I was putting all of that together, Faraday reached into his box again and pulled out yet another statement. “Here’s a witness statement from Payton’s coach, who told us that a boy resembling this sketch approached her and claimed to be from the Poplar High newspaper. He was very interested in the new star on the team, Payton Wyly. This was before the football game, Maddie, when you supposedly saw Payton’s deathdate. And we checked with your school’s newspaper—Arnold doesn’t contribute to it, and he never has.”

  “He didn’t do it!” I blurted out, panic-stricken about where this was heading.

  Donn
y’s hand clamped down on my arm, but it was too late.

  “Didn’t do what?” Faraday asked, leaning forward. “Or maybe I should ask, who didn’t do what?”

  I looked at Donny, practically pleading with him to let me talk, to let me explain it to Faraday, but the warning in my uncle’s eyes was clear. I wasn’t to say another word until he gave the okay. “What does any of this have to do with my niece?” Donny demanded.

  Faraday pulled out a picture of Stubby. It was his sophomore yearbook photo. The agent held it up next to the artist’s sketch. “See a resemblance?” he asked.

  Donny kept his eyes on Faraday. “Again, what does this have to do with Maddie?”

  Faraday set the articles down. “It has everything to do with her, counselor. The boy in the sketch is her best friend—this Stubby character. We’ve got him here now, and he says it was all Madelyn’s idea. He says that she came up with a plan to kidnap and kill Tevon Tibbolt, convinced him to do the dirty work, and they both enjoyed it so much that they went looking for another victim: Payton Wyly.”

  My mouth fell open and a noise came out from deep inside me, one that was unbidden and primal. Donny’s hand squeezed my arm again, and I barely managed to stop and get hold of myself.

  “Cut the crap, Faraday,” Donny snapped. “Schroder said no such thing! If he had, you would’ve arrested Maddie by now, but you’ve got nothing but a torn-up birthday card, a crude sketch, and some witness statements that I will tear holes through in court. You have no proof that the guy in the sketch is Schroder, and no proof that he actually harmed Payton Wyly!”

  Faraday seemed unfazed by Donny’s outburst. He rubbed his chin before leaning forward even more, his large frame hanging over most of the table. “You know what else I find interesting?” His question was aimed directly at me. I found myself shaking my head, and I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I didn’t want to hear it, whatever it was, because it was all a lie. “Your best friend’s statement is your only alibi for the day Tevon Tibbolt was kidnapped and murdered. We’ve been looking at the timetable, Madelyn. It seems Tevon may have been abducted later in the day on the twenty-ninth than we thought. We think he was taken anywhere between three and nine P.M. So, I gotta ask you: who’s covering for whom?”