Page 3 of The Amateurs


  She kept an eye out for an Asian girl in green. Everyone was either streaming toward the stairs or greeting people who’d gotten off Seneca’s train. She opened her text thread. I’m here, she wrote to Maddy. Where are you?

  Passengers hurried to find their rides, and the Maddy possibilities dwindled one by one. Seneca looked at her phone; Maddy hadn’t responded. After a few minutes, Seneca was the only one left on the platform except for a tall, handsome boy with wavy brown hair, a chiseled jaw, and a T-shirt that said University of Oregon. Huh. Maddy had told Seneca she’d just received a scholarship to the University of Oregon for track and field. Maybe this guy was also going there and somehow knew her.

  She drifted into the parking lot, wondering if she’d gotten off at the wrong stop. ‘Excuse me?’ University of Oregon had followed her. ‘Are you Seneca?’

  ‘Yeah …’

  He grinned and stuck out his hand. ‘Hey! It’s Maddy!’

  Seneca stared at his outstretched palm, then at him. In fact, it was kind of hard not to look at him. He had piercing green eyes that could be described as smoldering and a cleft in his chin. He wore a soft-looking olive jacket over his tee that brought out the green in his eyes. His white-and-orange New Balances were a little scuffed, marring his perfect appearance – as if he’d carefully calculated how to look approachable yet adorable. She found herself playing the game she and Maddy – online Maddy, clearly not this person – had made up, giving him a candy identity that best matched his looks. He was one of those Cadbury delectables she’d bought on a trip to England with her dad last year. The best chocolate ever, but you could buy it at the corner store.

  She felt herself blush and wrenched her gaze away. ‘Wait, you’re who?’

  ‘Maddy.’ He pointed to himself with a goofy smile. ‘From Case Not Closed.’

  ‘You’re MBM0815?’ she sputtered.

  He cocked his head quizzically. ‘Yeah …’ Then he looked down at the donut box she was carrying. ‘Nice. You’re going to help me eat these, right?’

  Seneca had no idea what to say. She couldn’t imagine eating a donut in front of this guy; she’d be way too self-conscious.

  ‘Who names a guy Madison?’ she finally said.

  ‘My real name’s Maddox.’ He leaned back. ‘Did you think … Holy shit. You thought I was Madison Wright, the girl? She’s my sister.’ He rolled his eyes knowingly. ‘Did she contact you on Facebook? She is so all over that.’

  Seneca’s head felt stuffed with shaving cream – unusual, for her. She hated feeling off balance, and usually came into every situation having done her research and knowing exactly who and what was in store for her. ‘Um, no, I knew you were you. I just got your names confused.’

  It just didn’t make sense. Online, Maddy had professed a love for Antiques Roadshow. He’d told her he sometimes felt out of place among the rich kids at his school. Yet here he was, standing tall and relaxed and confident, fingers hooked in the belt loops of his expensive-looking jeans. The smile on his face was one of a guy who knew he was attractive and well liked. Even worse: Seneca had confessed in Gchat that she’d never had sex, that she still wore a retainer at night, that she spent more time at the university library than the bar – or, for that matter, in class. She’d told Maddy about her troubles in school. She’d even regaled Maddy with stories about Chad, her ex-sort-of-boyfriend, including one where he’d totally ignored her while watching football during what was supposed to be a romantic dinner in Philly. This person, this Maddy, looked like someone who’d tune her out for football, too.

  And good Lord. She’d been the one to suggest coming to Dexby. What if he thought she was looking for a hook-up?

  Then, with an effort, she shrugged away her insecurities. So he was a guy. So he was delicious to look at. So he was a weirdly cool track dude. Who cared? She knew why she was really here.

  ‘So what do you say?’ Maddy had that self-assured, easy grin again. ‘Wanna motor?’

  He reached for her suitcase, but Seneca’s hand shot forward. ‘I’ve got it.’

  She started to walk. When she finally looked up, Maddy was loping next to her. Even his walk was sexy and athletic. ‘Hey – it’s cool. It’s me. You know me.’ His eyes crinkled when he smiled.

  Seneca adjusted her suitcase in her hand. No, I don’t, she wished she could say. ‘For the record?’ she called instead over her shoulder. ‘Maddy is a girl’s name. You should probably stick with Maddox.’

  CHAPTER 4

  Maddox Wright opened the hatch to his Jeep, his car keys hanging from a long lanyard that read Dexby Varsity Track. ‘Good train ride?’ he asked Seneca, placing the book and the box of Krispy Kremes next to her bag and sliding into the driver’s seat.

  ‘Fine,’ Seneca said coldly. She hesitated outside the passenger door like she wasn’t sure about getting in. Maddox wondered what her deal was. Had she thought he was going to be a girl? Come on: his posts screamed dude, didn’t they? Okay, so maybe Maddy swung either way as a name, and maybe he’d been a little more confessional with Seneca than he was with kids around here. It was easier to say what he was thinking, sometimes, when it was late at night and he knew the person he confided in wouldn’t be mocking him in school the next day. But there was no reason for her to be shocked or to be acting so reluctant now. He kind of wanted to tell her that most girls at his school would be pretty freaking psyched to be hanging out with him, but that sounded so arrogant, even in his head.

  The thing was, Seneca really didn’t seem like any of the girls at school. He peeked at her out of the corner of his eye, taking in her appearance, so different from what he’d expected. Her cheeks were pink, her skin was coppery, and her hair was a pretty almost-black and bunched into a wild, sproingy ponytail. She wore fringed denim shorts, a plaid shirt that looked like it could belong to someone’s grandpa, and badass motorcycle boots that showed off her long legs. Totally not what he’d expected.

  The Internet was weird like that. During all the time they’d talked online – first on the boards, then Gchatting, and then exchanging long emails about cases, and other stuff, too – he’d pictured her … differently. Mousier, maybe, with bad skin and dark-framed glasses and a less-rocking body. Someone he wouldn’t be attracted to. Someone he wouldn’t automatically picture in a bikini.

  There was a loud rapping on the car. Carson Peters and Archer McFadden, two friends from Maddox’s team, appeared. ‘Yo, man, you doing the Achilles 5K tomorrow?’ Archer boomed after Maddox rolled the window down. ‘You’ll totally nab first. And I hear Tara’s doing it, too.’ He punched his arm.

  ‘I know you could chase that hot booty all day,’ Carson teased.

  ‘I’m too busy chasing your mom’s,’ Maddox quipped, but then he caught Seneca’s sour expression out of the corner of his eye. ‘Nah, I got things to do,’ he said in a lower voice. Archer and Carson noticed Seneca, too, and gave Maddox sly, questioning grins. ‘This is my buddy Seneca,’ Maddox told them. ‘We met at track camp.’

  ‘What up,’ Archer and Carson said, looking her up and down. Seneca politely nodded at both of them, and a weird, awkward silence followed. Maddox gunned his engine. ‘We’re heading out,’ he told his teammates. Archer gave him a creepy grin. Carson was still staring at Seneca’s boobs.

  At the turn to the road, Maddox glanced at Seneca. ‘Sorry about that. But they’re good guys once you get to know them.’

  Seneca’s face was pinched. She set her jaw and mumbled something under her breath.

  ‘So anyway,’ Maddox said, pretending not to notice, ‘here we are in Dexby. You know you want a tour.’

  ‘Actually, I want to head over to the Kellys’,’ Seneca said in a prissy voice.

  Maddox frowned. ‘As in Aerin Kelly?’

  She looked at him like he was crazy. ‘Who else?’

  ‘I was thinking we could check out some spots Helena frequented first, like Connecticut Pizza and the ski slope, maybe even Windemere Prep. And then I have this list of her friend
s we should talk to. Her old best friend, Becky, owns this restaurant that makes awesome chili fries. And she knew this girl Kelsey who works for the Rangers now, and then we were going to meet up with –’

  ‘But Aerin wrote us an SOS on the boards,’ Seneca interrupted.

  ‘We don’t actually know it was from her. And anyway, Helena’s friends might have more insider knowledge than her little kid sister, don’t you think?’

  ‘Her little kid sister was the last one to see her alive.’ Seneca stuck her tongue into her cheek. ‘I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that more important than chili fries?’

  ‘That’s not what I …’ Maddox hadn’t meant to sound like a tool. Seneca was right about Aerin … but he didn’t want her to be right. ‘Okay,’ he surrendered, moving into the right lane toward Aerin’s house as if it was totally normal. ‘I guess we can do that.’

  He gritted his teeth as he checked his rearview mirror. Shit, shit, shit. He’d hoped to avoid the whole Aerin Kelly thing for as long as possible.

  The car was silent, so Maddox decided to give Seneca a mini tour as they drove. ‘That turnoff leads to a park where a couple of people saw a Sasquatch. You ever go on a Sasquatch hunt? People are crazy about them around here. It leads to some sick parties.’

  No response. He pulled onto a long boulevard bordered by a huge complex called the Dexby Recreational Center. ‘Here’s where I practice with Catherine.’

  A long pause. Seneca fiddled with the flap on her purse. ‘Who’s Catherine?’ she finally said, as if he’d forced the question out of her.

  ‘My running coach.’

  Seneca gave him a strange look. ‘You need someone to show you how to run?’

  He shrugged. ‘Catherine got me to drop six seconds off my 800. That’s insane. It’s how I got the scholarship to Oregon.’ He glanced at Seneca, assuming she’d find this impressive, too, but her gaze was out the window.

  They passed Windemere-Carruthers Prep School, which Aerin Kelly and a bunch of kids Maddox knew attended – he went to Dexby Public. Windemere had a pristine green lawn, and its main building was an eighteenth-century brick compound that gleamed in the sunlight. Next was the Dexby Police Station, a modern marvel of stone and glass. Then came the flagship Scoops of Dexby with its ice-cream-cone-shaped sign whirling by the road. Seneca blinked solemnly at every landmark that passed. Maddox wracked his brain for a joke he could tell, but the only good jokes he knew were dirty.

  The houses morphed into block-long monstrosities he knew well. Years ago, Maddox used to sit in the backseat of his mother’s car, imagining the insides of these places. The fortresslike one on the corner contained a room full of action figures. The stone-and-brick twenty-bedroom estate on the hill had an indoor pool with a waterslide. But that was ancient history.

  Seneca turned to him. ‘What was this place like after Helena vanished?’

  He widened his eyes. ‘Insane. News vans clogged every street. They camped here, overran the town. They interviewed everybody. Really got in your face about stuff.’

  The Kellys’ house was at the end of a cul-de-sac, a classical structure of stone and archways with an expansive backyard against thick, lush woods. It was all so familiar that Maddox could have drawn it from memory. He turned off the engine and sat back. Well, they were here. He just had to spit it out.

  He cleared his throat and looked at Seneca. ‘So listen. Aerin Kelly … knows me.’

  Seneca rolled her eyes. ‘Did you date her?’

  Maddox was momentarily disarmed. ‘N-no. About ten years ago, my mom worked for her family.’ He shrugged nonchalantly. ‘She was sort of a nanny.’

  Now Seneca was the one who seemed off-kilter. ‘For how long?’

  ‘Oh, three years or so.’ He tried to keep his tone light and easy. ‘I was too young to stay by myself, and I wasn’t into after-school sports yet, so sometimes I tagged along.’ He coughed into his fist. ‘My dad … left … when I was four. I don’t know if I mentioned that. It’s no biggie. And now mom’s remarried. She doesn’t work anymore.’

  Seneca’s mouth wobbled. ‘Did you not tell me before because you were embarrassed?’

  ‘What?’ Maddox waved his hand quickly. ‘Nah. I probably just forgot.’ He hoped she couldn’t tell he was lying.

  Seneca’s eyes darted back and forth. ‘Well, okay,’ she said after a beat. ‘Did you hang out with Helena at all?’

  Maddox flicked the lanyard attached to his keys. ‘Not really. She was nice, though, when she was around. One of those people you didn’t want to see hurt, you know? I guess that’s why I’ve always been interested in the case. She didn’t deserve what she got.’

  Seneca blinked, seemingly taking all this in. Her fingers curled on the door handle, but then she turned back and looked him over in a way that Maddox couldn’t quite figure out – was she checking him out, or was she trying to read his mind? Finally, she blurted, ‘I don’t mean to stereotype, but do your friends know you’re into … crime solving?’

  Maddox blinked hard. ‘My friends from school?’

  She shrugged. ‘Yeah. Your track buddies. Those guys in the parking lot.’

  He considered his friends. They looked at him and saw what Seneca must be seeing now: jock, ladies’ man, whatever. It was like his friends had completely wiped from their minds who he used to be, and he didn’t bother reminding them. Why bring up the past?

  Then Seneca shrugged. ‘Forget I asked. You sure you’re ready for this?’

  He squared his shoulders. ‘You bet.’

  They approached the front door. The same painted sign that he remembered read Welcome, Friends. When he pressed the doorbell, the familiar melody gave him a nostalgic twist in his stomach.

  Footsteps sounded. There was fumbling with a chain latch, and then the door swung open. The huge foyer, full of wood beams and folk art and Shaker furniture, was unchanged from when Maddox had last seen it. Maddox only recognized Aerin, however, by her blue eyes. She was tall, with bright white-blonde hair, overly made-up eyes, and very pink lips. She was wearing a shrunken pink T-shirt, shorts that exposed an expanse of thin thigh, and a cross between sandals and boots.

  Maddox tried not to grin like a fool, but it was tough. In the past few years, he’d seen Aerin Kelly from afar – at track meets, at big parties, at the Dexby Fourth of July parade … but not up close. The rumors were true, though: the bratty little girl he’d known had become smoking hot.

  Aerin Kelly eyed them suspiciously. ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘We’re from an online crime-solving coalition,’ Seneca said.

  ‘We’re here to help,’ Maddox said at the same time.

  Seneca flashed her eyes at Maddox, and Maddox gave her a look right back. He turned to Aerin and started over. ‘We read your post on Case Not Closed. About your sister.’

  Aerin’s face had gone pale. ‘Huh? ’

  Maddox frowned. ‘Did you not write that post?’

  Aerin pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. ‘I wrote it, but …’ Her throat caught as she swallowed. ‘Tell me this is a joke. You guys are, like, my age.’

  Seneca straightened. ‘The site has been successful at cracking cold cases nationwide.’

  Aerin ran a hand over her forehead. ‘It was bad enough when I thought the people posting on that freaky site were forty-year-old losers still living with their parents who wanted to play Scooby-Doo. Is this a joke to you? Something you think will look good on a college application?’

  Seneca blinked fast. ‘No! It’s –’

  ‘Do you get off on those morgue videos?’ Aerin’s nostrils flared. ‘You realize it’s illegal to have those up there. Those are real people, you know. With real families.’

  Maddox shrugged. ‘The faces are blacked out. And they can be useful, especially if someone who’s looking at them knows about exit wounds or injuries. Some of the posters are doctors, ex-cops, and –’

  ‘Do the other posters know you guys are just kids?’ Aerin interrupted
. ‘What if I logged on to your site and told everyone you aren’t even out of high school?’

  ‘Actually, I am out of high school,’ Seneca said. ‘So go right ahead. My screen name’s TheMighty.’

  Aerin glowered at her. Then her gaze swung to Maddox, recognition finally flickering in her eyes. ‘I’ve seen you around. What is this, some kind of prank so you can brag to your meathead friends?’

  Maddox burst out laughing. ‘Actually, Aerin, it’s Maddy Wright. Remember?’

  Aerin looked like he’d just smacked her across the face. A long beat passed. ‘My nanny’s son?’ She touched the doorknob. ‘Now I really need you to leave.’

  ‘But –’ Seneca protested.

  ‘Go.’

  Aerin went to close the door, but Maddox shot out his arm and grabbed it. ‘Wait.’ He fumbled for the pen he’d brought. He tore a piece off a random receipt from his pocket and scribbled his phone number and address, tossing it at her. ‘Here’s my number. Call anytime.’ He raised his eyebrows and, as a last-ditch effort, shot her the smile that usually worked on girls.

  That made Aerin frown even deeper. She slammed the door in their faces.

  The Easter wreath on the front door jumped at the impact. ‘Well,’ Seneca said tightly, making a military-style turn back toward the car. ‘That was delightful.’

  Maddox’s skin felt itchy. He climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition. This was why he hadn’t wanted to come here: he was worried this would happen. Aerin had treated him just like she always had when he was her nanny’s awkward, nerdy kid. Even though he’d transformed. Even though she’d acknowledged he’d transformed, that they had friends in common now. He’d hoped, unrealistically, that her attitude toward him would have adjusted accordingly. He hated to be reminded of that time in his life.