Page 11 of The Last Girl


  Piper was not rebellious by nature, but she had become protective of Justine, their bond like sisters, but Piper later realized that she was the only one who really needed that bond. Justine was so indifferent behind all of that charm, her coldness the lone barrier keeping her violent tendencies at bay.

  She showed Piper her art, canvasses featuring striking interpretations of flowers and animals in red, yellow, black, and blue. Piper would visit Justine at the large house she shared with her parents in Holland Hills. Mrs. Kent did not work, but Mr. Kent was an engineer. Mrs. Kent was also a bit fragile, and Justine told Piper that her mother went to therapy twice a week; she had been raped when Justine was six years old. The attacker was never captured.

  Bobby looked across at the fat, sleepy-looking girl. Her eyes were enough to set her apart, and Bobby felt uncomfortable under her gaze, as if she could size him up with one glance.

  Justine face split into a warm grin through the glass. “Glad you could make it.”

  Piper knew to keep their conversation light, with the nurse standing by. “I got your e-mails...”

  Justine rested her hands on the table, her nails long but ill-kept, the ends uneven and ragged. “Have you seen my old friend?”

  Piper shook her head, but understood the cryptic question. “No. I wouldn’t recognize him.”

  “That’s right. You’ve never met him, but he’s the type no one notices, a real chameleon. Like that song. Remember Boy George? You couldn’t tell if he wanted to be male or female. People get confused like that sometimes. Another friend took an art class with me, cutting pictures of women out of magazines and then ripping up the faces with scissors or his fingers. He wanted to reach the skin...”

  “Do you contact him?” Piper asked.

  Justine smirked, shaking her head. “No. But he’s just getting started.”

  Piper came closer, her breath on the glass. “Justine, I’ve missed you. We were best friends once. Are you okay here?”

  Justine did not blink. “I’m fine.”

  “Do you sleep a lot?”

  “Yes. Who is your friend?”

  “This is Bobby.”

  Bobby gulped, then licked his dry lips. “Hello, Justine.”

  “You’re pretty.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you remember his name?” Piper asked.

  “Who?” Justine asked.

  “Your friend, the chameleon.”

  “Oh. It’s not important now.” She pulled her hands away. “I’m getting tired. What’s for dinner, Lauren?”

  The nurse once again placed her hands on Justine’s shoulders. “Fried chicken.”

  “I hope its cooked all the way this time. I suppose I’ll have to eat in the cafeteria with everyone else.” Justine rose from her seat. “Thank you for coming, Piper. Nice to meet you, Bobby.”

  “I’ll come back,” Nurse Lauren said.

  She took Justine out, the door locking. Bobby sighed in relief, and Piper turned to look at him.

  “What?” he asked.

  “She can’t help it.”

  “Look, Rick makes me nervous.” Bobby held up his bandaged fingers. “But she’s the type who could get people to drink poison.”

  Piper turned her head, staring at the door. Nurse Lauren appeared a few minutes later to let them out. She did not speak during the walk down the hall or the ride in the elevator. She let them out the door, not even saying good-night.

  Bobby and Piper were approaching the steps when she covered Bobby’s arm with her hand. “Justine wasn’t always like this. She was my first kiss.”

  “Then you see something I don’t.”

  “She knows who the Ravisher is, she just doesn’t want anyone else knowing.”

  They finished walking to the scooter and Bobby handed her a helmet. “I understand that Justine is schizophrenic, but she seems calm on meds. Why can’t she go home?”

  “I don’t think her parents trust her.”

  “She wouldn’t hurt them, would she?”

  “They might think she could hurt someone else. That’s what she did at Crandall.”

  “She stabbed some boy who was picking on her—”

  “He would try to bully her. She would tell him off, but he started to turn nasty. At the same time, she was getting worse. She was writing these stories, and she would give them to me. The stories were about these boys who were evil aliens and shape-shifters from Pluto who had to hide in a private school because they were being hunted by a group of outlaw bikers who were really fallen angels. These guys could only kill the aliens by sucking the fluid out of their spines.” Bobby’s surpressed chuckle did not stop Piper as she went on. “The fluid could be sold by the bikers to certain Hollywood celebrities to keep them thin and young.”

  “The outlaw bikers would be Blue Diamonds, right?”

  Piper nodded. “She smuggled a knife into school and stabbed that boy, Devon Post, in the back. He was getting something out of his locker and she sneaked up on him. I never liked Devon; he had a big mouth, but his kidney was damaged when she stabbed him. Around this time, I had asked her if she believed what she was writing. She didn’t answer me, but she was starting to drift away. The day before, we were in Math class, and the teacher, Mr. Olsen, called her up to the board to solve a problem. He was one of the teachers who thought Justine was a discipline case, but he was wrong. While she had her back to everyone, she bit into her finger and solved the math problem with her blood on the board. Mr. Olsen thought it was red ink until she went back to her desk and he saw her sucking her finger. He sent her to the principal’s office.”

  “Did her parents just ignore it?” Bobby asked.

  “At first. I think they were afraid.”

  “What were they like?”

  “Her dad was a quiet guy, always at work. Her mom took a lot of naps. Pills and wine. Lived in Holland Hills. They had a cook and a housekeeper.”

  “Did I ever tell you that Rick spent some time here, a few years ago?”

  “No,” Piper said.

  “He tried to kill himself again. We were renting a house then, and he holed himself up in the garage with the car running. The paramedics saved his life and his doctor sent him here. He didn’t stay long. Mom couldn’t afford it, so they just put him on some new meds.”

  “Is he still in jail?”

  “Yes. And he can stay there.” Bobby put on his helmet, Piper doing the same. “Princess, maybe you should tell the police what Justine told us.”

  “But I would have to explain why I was here, to them and to Mom. Besides, Justine is no stranger to the police, they might think she’s just talking crazy.”

  “What about that Boy George remark? Is the Ravisher confused about his gender?”

  Piper, her helmet on, mounted the scooter behind Bobby. “Would that have something to do with cutting up photos of womens’ faces out of magazines?”

  “You know who we should tell,” Bobby said.

  “I’ll call Sonya when we get back.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The first thing Sonya noticed about Kristen Beck was that she was eating her lunch alone.

  “Piper went to cheerleading camp with her,” Bobby said. “She’s okay, but she doesn’t talk to lower classmen. Actually, she barely talks to seniors. Her boyfriend goes to the community college...”

  “Cheerleaders don’t usually keep to themselves,” Sonya said. “Unless...”

  “She’s not a cheerleader anymore.”

  Kristen kept her bandaged face down as she ate her sandwich, taking fast bites over her stitched lower lip. She wanted out of there, getting her first day back at school finished.

  The table across from her was fully inhabited, including Kaitlyn and her boyfriend. Some of these seniors shot glances Kristen’s way, but did not approach her.

  Sonya waited until Kristen rose from her seat to take her tray back to the kitchen. Sonya chose
to follow her, curious stares coming from Piper and the other girls sitting with Jess.

  Kristen discarded her tray to find Sonya standing behind her. She gave Sonya a hard look, knowing her face from the Blue and White. “What?”

  “My name is Sonya. Sonya Neslund.”

  Kristen pulled a lock of dark hair away from her face, and Sonya noticed that her eyes were red and swollen. “I know.”

  “I just want to talk.”

  “I talked to the police. Told them everything. He cut up my face, took my watch. That’s it.”

  “Has he e-mailed you?”

  “No, but the old guy keeps asking, too.”

  “Who?”

  “Garza? Garcia? The cop. He took pictures of my cuts before the stitches. Asked me about the guy, the knife, what he said. To be honest, I’m tired of talking about it—”

  “You won’t be the last girl.”

  Kristen crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t care.”

  “I think you do, but you’re just too scared—”

  “You know, if you’re not careful, the last girl might be you, then you’ll get to walk around–” she pointed the bandages on her cheeks and forehead–”with everyone knowing how stupid you are.”

  She turned and walked away, leaving the cafeteria. Sonya did not follow her, but encountered several hard stares from Kaitlyn’s table, including Kaitlyn. Sonya felt her cheeks get red, but she scowled back. She did not care what they thought because they were hypocrites; Kristen was unwelcome at their table with her damaged face, but they were willing to come to her defense when she was not around.

  Sonya, however, did not go back to her table. Instead, she scanned each of their faces, wondering if she would find the story on the Blue and White by today, if SkolClik was at that table with the other popular seniors.

  Sonya took her time getting back to Bobby, feeling as if she had fallen into an Old West movie, the cafeteria suddenly a saloon.

  Bobby, who had witnessed the whole scene, remained silent as Sonya collected her backpack to leave. He followed her out, the bell ringing a few miunutes later.

  *****

  Sonya’s mood did not improve when she got off the bus, followed by the Four Js on their bicycles. She looked up to see Trey’s red truck drive past.

  “Hey, Sonya!”

  She turned around to see Kyle standing at the end of his driveway by the mailbox. He waved, and Sonya followed.

  *****

  Sonya slipped into the passenger side of the Camaro.

  “The new brakes didn’t cost as much as I thought,” Kyle said, “so I used my new credit card. Trey helped me, took all day after we got out of work.”

  Sonya squirmed a bit in the bucket seat, the cream vinyl interior sporting only a few cracks, the engine quiet.

  Kyle put the car in drive and they cruised out of the driveway. Soon, he turned on to Farm Road.

  “So,” Kyle said, “you met Shawn...”

  “Shawn?”

  “On Friday night.”

  “Oh, him. Yeah.”

  “That’s what the Blue Diamonds have come down to. Dime bags of weed. Once, there was practically a cartel here.”

  Kyle made a left turn, cruising towards the park.

  “Smooth ride,” Sonya said.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Did your dad...ever tell you things? About the Diamonds?”

  “You mean, their business?”

  Sonya nodded.

  “I was too little. Later, I asked my mom about what he did, but she didn’t want to talk about it.”

  He cruised up to a space in the park, then turned off the car. Sonya looked around, noticing that no one else was present. She raised her hand, resting her fingers on the door handle. “I should be getting back, my dad’s been worried since the attacks...”

  Kyle nodded and started up the car. “Kristen’s brother Tony has been driving around, thinking he can find the guy...”

  “This is going to sound crazy,“ Sonya said, “but do you think the Ravisher could be a Blue Diamond?”

  Kyle shrugged, his wrist on the steering wheel as he drove. “Who knows? If he’s one of the young Diamonds, there’s not very many to consider. Only about six are at the club-house now.”

  “Are you a member?”

  “No. And I don’t want to be. I love those guys, but I have to stay out of jail; Mom and my brothers need me. Besides, I’ve heard they might close their chapter here, taking all of the business back to Florida.”

  “What kind of business? I mean, besides drugs?”

  “Small-time prostitution, which is the only kind in Marine. Donut and Waylon own a strip club, Diamond Girls, downtown.” Kyle turned back on Farm Road. “The old timers will die off, and the young ones will head for Florida, where they can ride their bikes year ‘round.”

  “Why do they have so many friends here?” Sonya asked.

  “Because they’ve been around for over thirty years. And some of them were good guys in their own way, they were able to earn some trust.” Kyle turned right on to Garland. “Especially with drugs. If not weed, then meth. The people around here are working two jobs or more, getting depressed about their debt. Speed is the perfect drug for the wage slave; gives you energy to work forever and forget about the bill collectors. Every other guy I work with smokes meth before he comes into work. They’re obnoxious and paranoid, but they never miss a day.”

  They reached Sonya’s house, and she noticed the truck by the garage.

  “Thanks for the ride,” she said. “Now you can take yourself to work.”

  Kyle grinned. “Trey still owes me a favor. But I’ll be on my own soon.”

  “You’re moving out?”

  “Maybe I’ll get an apartment, but I won’t be far away. The Js would drive Mom crazy without me.”

  “Did your mom and dad expect to have quadruplets?”

  “No. They only wanted one baby after Lily died, but multiple births can happen with fertility drugs.”

  “My Uncle Bill still remembers going to your sister’s funeral.”

  “I was only five years old, I don’t have too many memories about it, just my mom being sad for awhile.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It was crib death. Mom was the one that found her, she blamed herself.”

  “How did your dad take it?”

  “He would drink more, take off. Dad was never a family man, but even he got excited over Mom having quads. He considered it a blessing.”

  “I think it would be.”

  Kyle nodded. “I see your uncle looking through the curtain.”

  “I better go in. Thanks again.”

  *****

  Sonya was not surprised by Aron’s words.

  “Kyle Stone is too old for you.”

  He was at the kitchen table, reading the paper. The expression on his handsome face remained neutral, and he did not make eye contact.

  Sonya could have argued, but she ignored him, taking her backpack upstairs. She pulled out her lap-top and read through her list:

  SkolClik-Blue and White

  FriendsRing

  Creepy e-mail to Jess.

  Jess’s e-mail address and ring

  Rick Chambers-suspect?

  The cuts and the knife

  The Blue Diamonds

  Piper had called Sonya last night, describing her visit with Justine Kent.

  Sonya added:

  Whispering Pines

  Kristen’s watch

  Justine Kent and her e-mails

  Havenrest

  As an afterthought:

  The chameleon-male or female?

  Sonya heard a knock at the attic door. When she opened it, she saw her father standing there.

  “Come down.”

  Sonya, familiar with that tone of voice, joined him in the short hallway.

  “You need to stop taking off as soon as you get home from school,” Aron s
aid. “You tell Bill you’re going to the park, but I didn’t find you there. I don’t know where you’re going, but don’t take advantage of Bill, you hear me?”

  Sonya kept her voice low, but she could feel herself losing her patience. “I would never do that to him—”

  “Sue called me, the same day you told Bill you were going to the park.”

  “Okay. I went to see Aunt Sue. Big deal.”

  “You rode your bicycle by yourself for miles just to visit someone—”

  “I can visit Aunt Sue if I want.”

  “There’s the telephone, Sonya. What did you want from Sue?”

  “I’m sure she told you.”

  “No, she didn’t. I want to hear it from you.”

  “Are you sure, Dad?”

  He ignored her sarcasm. “What do you want? A DNA test?”

  “Maybe. But it’s not like you’d do it.”

  “We’ll talk about this some other time. If you need to go anywhere, wait until I get home—”

  “Where have you been going?”

  “What?”

  “Almost every day I come home, you’re gone. Do you have a job?”

  “I’ve been taking some classes at the unemployment office. Resume writing, computer skills, that sort of thing. I need to do it to get my extension for another six months.”

  Sonya saw the expression on his face, and felt her temper cool. Aron could not hide every emotion, he was too sensitive, in spite of his impatient nature.

  “Have you had any interviews?” she asked.

  “No, not since last week.”

  “Aunt Sue didn’t tell me anything. And if I need to go somewhere, I’ll get a ride, okay?”

  “It’s just until this guy is found.”

  “He won’t get found for awhile, Dad.”

  *****

  Kristen and her older brother Tony, at the wheel of his car, cruised into Whispering Pines.

  “Why here?” Kristen asked.

  Tony’s headlights flashed on each ‘For Sale’ sign as he drove up the main drag from the entrance. Kristen looked over at her good-looking brother; long, dark bangs hanging over his striking blue eyes and long lashes, his features still soft except for the long nose. As a high schooler, he had played football, a knee injury in his senior year taking him out of sports and away from a scholarship. Since graduation two years ago, he had worked at various jobs, including construction and factory work in Marine.