“Kind of a bizarre coincidence.”

  “What is? Look, I’m working here, Aidan, so if you have something to say just spit it out instead of creeping around and acting like you’re working for the CIA.”

  “I just recognized the daughter is all.” His eyes locked on hers and there was no whisper accompanying what he said, which told her his thoughts and his words were one with each other: perfect truth.

  She said, “So? Call the number on the flyer then. ’Cause I don’t know why you’re announcing to me that you recognize some little kid in the paper.”

  “That’s the coincidence.”

  “What is?”

  “It’s the same girl you were looking at on the Internet. You remember that, right? The one you were looking at for your art class?” He made air quotes when he said the last two words. He watched her with that smirk on his face.

  The smirk replaced her fear with fury. She said, “Coincidences happen, okay? Just like the coincidence of you flinging around a burning piece of wood just before a shack catches fire and kills someone inside. Got it?”

  His expression altered and along with it came he died and I was pissed but that doesn’t mean I meant bad because . . . which was startling in its clarity. But what was more startling was what accompanied it: less than five seconds of vision of an infant in a facing-backward car seat and a hand giving that infant a bottle. Then the vision was gone and she and Aidan were staring at each other. They held the stare for another five seconds till he turned on his heel and left the library.

  Becca remained, but she was frightened. Who was this kid? she wondered. What was he really capable of? And what did it mean that she didn’t even have to touch him in order to have a vision?

  • • •

  BECCA NEEDED TO talk with someone about Aidan’s continual intrusion into her life. Seth seemed like a godsend. When Becca arrived back at Ralph Darrow’s place, she saw that Seth’s VW was in the parking area. When she saw him crossing the lawn in front of his grandfather’s house, she called out his name.

  He was coming from the direction of the forest, Gus bounding along at his side. Gus heard her call and gave a happy yelp. He began to charge toward her in greeting, and he didn’t stop when Seth shouted his name. Becca found a stick quickly because she knew the Lab was likely to knock her off her feet with his ecstatic hello. When he got close, she cried, “Gus! Go get it!” and threw the thing high into the hillside that she was descending. Gus followed his nature, which was to follow the stick. Becca continued down to Seth.

  “Don’t tell Grand,” Seth said as Becca joined him. “I swear, Beck. I think he’s retarded.”

  Becca knew he didn’t mean his grandfather. “He just gets excited. Watch. He’ll bring the stick back.”

  They waited and Gus proved her correct although, she saw, it was an entirely different stick. When he returned to them with this prize proudly dangling from his jaws, she giggled and added, “More or less.” And then to Seth, “Whatcha up to?”

  He jerked his head in the direction of the woods. “Just saying hey to Parker,” he told her. “He wasn’t there, though.”

  Something in his voice told Becca more was going on than a simple hello. His whisper of telling Hayley but that would be so lame because she’d think I’m hoping . . . filled in the blanks. Still, she said, “Oh yeah?” in a way that told Seth he needed to ’fess up.

  Seth wrested the stick from Gus and threw it back toward the hillside. He said, “Oh yeah,” and matched her tone. He added as if to clue her in on the obvious, “Me and the guys’re thinking of asking him to join Triple Threat.”

  “Can he do that?”

  “What d’you mean?”

  “Doesn’t he have to go back to Canada?” She admitted to herself that she’d been thinking of Parker’s return to Canada ever since she’d learned he came from Nelson. For if he went home, maybe he could search for Laurel and somehow put Becca in touch with her mom.

  Seth waited for the dog’s return. Gus was snuffling around the bushes on the hillside. Seth called his name impatiently. He finally said to Becca, “Yeah. I guess so.” He shot her a glance. “Okay. I was checking up on him,” he admitted.

  “In the tree house?”

  “That and other stuff.” Because if that guy meant fires when he said watch out no way do I want Hayley near him.

  Beyond her pleasure at the absolute distinctness of the whisper, Becca knew that Seth might well have discovered something important. She asked him about this.

  He told her about a phone call he’d made to the bass player in BC Django 21 and what he’d learned from him. He said, “And don’t tell me it was dumb to call because no way am I letting Hayley get involved with some pyro who’s gonna mess with her mind. She could end up following him to Canada and wrecking her life.”

  Becca knew he was lying to himself, at least in part. Seth wasn’t over Hayley no matter what he said. But she also knew there was nothing she could do about this since she’d take the same steps to protect Derric if she had to.

  She said, “I get it. Just . . . Why were you checking up on him in the woods?”

  “Perfect place for him to torch if that’s what he’s into. Or to hide his gear. Or . . . I don’t know. I just needed to see. ’Cause if he’s hiding who he really is, it could mean anything.”

  The whole idea of hiding gave Becca the opening to talk to Seth about Aidan Martin. She told him her concerns. She kept the information to feeling stalked, to becoming scared, and to worrying about his interest in Hannah Armstrong. She said, “He’s really strange, Seth. He’s always there and he’s always watching and he keeps turning up . . .”

  “Maybe he’s hot for you.”

  “That’s not it.”

  “Bet he never turns up when Derric’s there. Does he?”

  “No, but—”

  “Rest my case, then. Look, some dudes don’t have a clue how to approach a girl. They’re thinking how hot she is and they want to know her and they’re total klutzes.”

  “That’s not what’s going on. He’s more like one of those kids who shoots up a high school.”

  Seth took this in, gazing down at his sandals. “You think that, you got to tell someone.”

  “I’m telling you.”

  “You know what I mean. You got to talk to . . . the principal? Or Derric’s dad. He c’n check the kid out.”

  That was the last thing she needed: putting Aidan Martin and his growing suspicions about her anywhere near the undersheriff of Island County. She said, “Anyone I ask is gonna want to know what he’s said, what he’s done, and what I’ve seen. Stuff like that. And what do I say? ‘He just creeps me out’? I can’t do that. All he’s doing is turning up when I don’t want him to. And I got to keep him from even thinking about calling that number on the Laurel Armstrong flyer and telling someone that this girl called Becca King must know something about the missing lady because she was looking at her on the Internet way before those flyers ever went up all around town.”

  Seth thought about this and finally said, “If he’s holding something over you, then we need to get something to hold over him. He’s not gonna say word one about you and Hannah Armstrong and her mom if he knows we know something serious about him. You think there’s something serious out there?”

  Becca considered Aidan: his actions, his words, his whispers, and her vision. She said, “Yeah. I think there is.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Becca knew her options were limited when it came to finding out something about Aidan Martin. There wasn’t word one about him via the Internet, so she wondered if there was something about his daily performance in school that she could hold over him: cheating on a test, plagiarizing a paper, bullying some kid, breaking some rule, whatever. But she didn’t know a soul who had a class with him, and he kept to himself whenever there was a chance to mingle wi
th other kids.

  She talked this over with Jenn McDaniels. They were in the girls’ restroom. Jenn was sneaking a cigarette. Becca had followed her in and she stood before her with her arms crossed, shaking her head. Jenn said, “I know. I’m quitting, like . . . sometime.”

  Becca said, “You’re the one who wants to make the All Island girls soccer team, not me. So when exactly are tryouts?”

  “Not till April. I’m good. I’m giving up next month.” And when Jenn checked out Becca’s expression, she said, “Okay. Next week. I’m quitting next week. Make you happy?” And when Becca didn’t answer, “Okay. Tomorrow.” Becca shook her head and Jenn sputtered in outrage and strode to one of the stalls and threw her cigarette in the toilet. “Happy now?” she demanded. “You’re supposed to be my best friend, not my mom.”

  “I don’t know enough Bible to be your mom.”

  “Well, you’re following me just like her, let me tell you. I didn’t even hear you come in.” Jenn rustled in her backpack and brought out a small plastic bottle of the mouthwash.

  Becca wanted to point out that mouthwash didn’t do much to kill the odor that clung to her clothes, but she had bigger fish to fry, so she said, “I wanted to talk to you.”

  “’Bout what?” Jenn gargled, spit, and then examined herself in the mirror, which was a real rarity for Jenn. She was the least vain girl that Becca had ever met.

  “About Aidan Martin,” Becca told her. “He keeps turning up whenever I’m alone.”

  “Like at Mr. Darrow’s, you mean?”

  “Not yet, but he’s been there with his grandmother so he knows I live there. So far, he’s just shown up sort of coincidentally. When I’m in the library here, when I’m in South Whidbey Commons, when I’m in Langley library . . . He sneaks up on me and watches what I’m doing. And he says stuff.”

  “Like what?”

  Becca needed to be creative but not entirely untruthful. “So far, it’s how he says my name and the way he kind of looks me over and I’ve started thinking . . . Like, what do we really know about this kid? He could be like those creeps who kidnap elementary school kids. We need to find out about him, Jenn. But I looked online and there’s nothing. So I’m wondering . . . What’s he doing here, anyway? Him and his sister. Why’re they living here and not where they used to live, especially since their parents aren’t even with them?”

  Jenn leaned against the lavatory sink. She said, “We need to look at his records. There might be something in them.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like where he came from. Like a warning from another school or something. Like a sign of trouble he got into somewhere.”

  “So how’re we supposed to look at his records?”

  “You and me? We can’t,” Jenn told her. “But I know someone who can.”

  • • •

  THEY ACCOSTED SQUAT Cooper as he came out of his AP Tech class. Jenn linked her arm with his and said, “Just the man we’re looking for: my passionate lover since kindergarten.”

  Squat looked from Jenn to Becca and brushed his rusty hair off his forehead. “Why do I think this means trouble?”

  Jenn said, “Come with us, my handsome friend.”

  Squat said, “Now I know it means trouble,” but he allowed himself to be led off to the chemistry lab, where they all ducked inside. He said, “I got a class to get to,” but he acquiesced. “What?” he said when Jenn had him backed into a corner. “If this is about senior prom, you sure as hell are planning in advance.”

  “Har har,” Jenn said. “Like I want to put on a dress for anyone? Not hardly. This is about looking into Aidan Martin’s school records. He’s giving Becca grief and we think he’s a nutcase.”

  “So tell the dean.” And to Becca, “He stupid enough to be bullying you or something? One word to Derric and the guy’s lights are out.”

  “We’ll get to that,” Jenn intervened. “But first we want to know what we’re dealing with. All we know, the kid could be coming to school with a weapon. A switchblade, a gun, a bomb. It’s not like we’ve got a security system or guards checking everyone’s backpack. We want to know who this kid really is and his records’re going to tell us. Now, in the old days, someone’d just pull the fire alarm and when everyone scrammed out of the school, that someone’d sneak into the office and look at Aidan Martin’s records while dramatic music was playing and a clock was ticking. Nowadays, we just need someone to hack into the school computer, and I know just the guy who can do it.”

  Squat held up his hands. “No way, Jenn. I’m already in enough trouble after Maxwelton. I lost my computer privileges and even if I still had them, d’you know how much trouble I’d be in if I got caught hacking into the school district’s system . . . even if it could be hacked into, which I pretty much doubt?”

  “Seems to me,” Jenn said, “if someone c’n hack into the Pentagon, someone can sure as hell hack into South Whidbey School District.”

  “Maybe so, but it ain’t gonna be me,” Squat told her. And then he said to Becca, “Just tell Derric.”

  “What?” Jenn clasped her hands beneath her chin, “Like ‘Oh Derric, I’m so scared. Puhleez help me.’ That what you have in mind? Come on, Squat, help us out here.”

  “Can’t do it,” he said. He looked regretful as he turned to Becca. “Sorry,” he told her.

  • • •

  JENN WAS NOT a girl who was easily defeated. She said to Becca portentously, “It ain’t over till it’s over,” and they went off to their next classes: Becca to Geometry and Jenn to Biology. Becca thought that Jenn meant she was going to strong-arm Squat in some fashion, but within half an hour, she learned what Jenn intended. The fire alarm went off.

  The fact that this wasn’t a planned event was evident in the expression on the faces of the teachers as everyone vacated the buildings. This was underscored by the arrival of the fire department engines and the fire chief some five minutes later, as well as the scurrying around of Mr. Vansandt, the school principal, along with the dean. It was fifteen minutes before the all clear was given. It was ninety minutes more before Becca saw Jenn McDaniels once again and was given the A-okay sign and a knowing smile as they passed each other on the way to another class.

  Becca could picture exactly what her best friend had done. It had begun with a simple and undeniable female request to visit the lavatory. Instead of the restroom, a dash down the hall to the nearest fire alarm and when the school was vacated, a quick trip to the administration office and the room where the kids’ files were kept. No problem with being missing among the kids from her class who were gathered outside the school. Since she’d gone to the restroom, she wouldn’t be missed, and even if she was, the teacher would assume she’d joined the students assembled elsewhere.

  “Simple is always best, hon,” Becca’s grandmother had said to her many times. She could only hope that her grandma had been right.

  This proved to be the case when she met up with Jenn at their lockers after school. Jenn said to her, “Got the goods,” and Becca felt a real surge of triumph till she saw what the goods actually were. Jenn had scored Aidan Martin’s transcript. That was all. It held only his grades and the name of the school.

  “This is it?” Becca sighed, because she didn’t see how transcripts were going to be helpful.

  “Check out where they’re from,” Jenn told her and pointed out the school.

  It was called Wolf Canyon Academy, a name that indicated it was private. Becca was about to say, “So what? He went to a private school is all,” till she saw the location of the place. It was in Moab, Utah.

  Jenn asked the logical question. “What was he doing there? Hasn’t Isis been going on about Palo Alto, where they’re supposedly from? Seems to me she’s either lying about that for some reason or Aidan got himself shipped off to a private school in another state. And what does that suggest to you?”
>
  “He was in trouble,” Becca said.

  “Bet your ass,” Jenn agreed.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Hayley had been on her way to see Tatiana Primavera. The counselor had sent a call slip for her, and Hayley figured that Tatiana was checking up on her progress on the college application essay. She’d done nothing about creating a new essay, though, and she knew Ms. Primavera was going to be all over her for that. So when the fire alarm went off, she felt she had a reprieve.

  Outside the school in the assembly area, she caught sight of Isis Martin. Isis waved at her frantically in a come-over-here gesture. She was hanging at the very back of the kids, but she didn’t stay there. As the sound of the fire engine’s sirens came closer to the school from Maxwelton Road, she grabbed Hayley’s arm and took off toward a line of recycling dumpsters.

  Hidden from sight, Isis dug around in her shoulder bag. She brought out a pack of Marlboros and used a Bic lighter to fire one up. Hayley raised her eyebrows and Isis said, “The electronic one went dead. Sorry. I know it’s nasty but I need the hit.”

  “Keep it out of sight if you don’t want even more trouble. And just don’t blow the smoke on me.”

  “God, have you always been so good?” Isis inhaled and flicked ash off the end of the cigarette. Truth was, she made it look sexy.

  Hayley said, “I got saved by the fire alarm. Ms. Primavera wanted to—”

  “This is all we need,” Isis cut in.

  “What is?”

  “Another fire.” She chewed on a fingernail and then took another hit. She said, “We’re in so much trouble, Hayley. Nancy called my mom, and of course the last thing Lisa Ann wants is to have to come up here herself for any reason. So she tells Nancy to set up some consequences for us that’ll ‘get our attention.’ So me and Aidan? We end up having a meeting with the owners of that house on the beach who, let me tell you, are not happy to come up from Olympia or Tacoma or who the hell knows where they’re from in order to meet with us. And Grandam along with those guys arrange what me and Aidan’re going to do as penance for invading their property. We’re replanting everything that got trampled by the cops and the firemen and all the kids, not to mention we’re paying for all the plants. We’re cleaning up the trash that’s everywhere along with the vomit, thank you very much. We’re emptying the fire pit and repairing that stupid chaise lounge that someone broke. And—are you ready for this?—someone took a dump in the hot tub and we get to deal with that as well. And we have to wash the windows because they’re all disgusting from the smoke. After that, we might be let out of jail.”