"I've never spent much time here," he explained.
"It's fine." I wasn't sure why he felt he had to explain it to me. I didn't care what it was or looked like. "Have you heard from Wright?"
"Nope. You?"
I sat down on the bed. "Nope."
"Please, make yourself at home," he said playfully, teasing me. "He does that on purpose, I think."
"Not contacting us?"
He plopped down on the bed, making me bounce. "Yeah. We all think he would be on our case twenty-four-seven so he's not. Whatever we expect, he does the opposite."
"Ah, to mess with us. He doesn't seem like a proper detective."
"I dunno," he shrugged, "I'd probably be cocky and arrogant if I was a detective." I snorted, and he rolled his eyes. Only if he was a detective? "Moving on! What fun activities do you have for us now? Digging up graves? Sifting through sewers?"
"Why don't you suggest something if you don't like what I'm doing."
"We could talk to Tilly's dad. You know, maybe something he says will tell us more, rather than looking at rubbish." He reached over, stroking the back of my hand with his thumb. It felt really nice and I hated that he was able to make me feel something good when I should be falling apart.
"I found blood, didn't I?"
"Probably from a half-dead animal, but whatever."
"We'll see. Wright is going to have it tested."
"I'll never understand why he's wasting his time with that. I thought he would laugh in our faces and tell us to leave."
"He knows I'm right."
"Either that or the blood will be from one of your friends and you would have dropped them right in it."
My world stopped spinning. What if it was? Would that mean they'd done it? No, it couldn't be. "It won't be theirs."
"Whatever you say. My money's on Kyle though."
I gulped. Did he know about the affair? "Why Kyle?"
"He has that dark eyes thing going on. They look mysterious with a hint of serial killer."
I laughed. "'Mysterious with a hint of killer'? Brown eyes don't make you a murderer."
"It's not the colour, just the way they look."
I shook my head. He was no longer making sense. "So... Lawrence's?"
"I'm assuming that's goldilocks' dad?"
"Yes, and how do you know Tilly was blonde?"
"I can sniff blondes out. It's a gift."
"You're a pig!"
He laughed, standing up as I did. "I do know you all, you know. Well, I know of you." Right, he had seen us from the car as his parents had done the child swap. "How far away does Lawrence live?"
"Five minutes. We all live close."
"I hate small villages."
"There's nothing wrong with this village."
"Sure, if you don't mind a bit of murder every now and then," he muttered.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed his words to the back of my mind. I was grateful that he was helping me as no one else seemed bothered, but his little comments annoyed me. He made jokes to make everyone think he didn't care about anything. I had a feeling he was trying to convince himself, too. If he said it enough he would believe it.
"And where you're from is so much better?"
"Towns are better. Fact. Here, everyone knows your business, and they all look at you, wondering what you're up to. In towns, people have lives, in villages people's lives are other people's lives."
"Okay then." Wow. We reached the bottom of the stairs and I frowned, concerned. "Blake, is she really okay?"
Eloise sat in the same position still, motionless. I wished we had met somewhere else. I understood why Blake didn't like it at home anymore. Usually, I was good with grieving people. I could do or say something to try to help but not with Eloise. She gave nothing for me to work with. Crying I could handle. Angry I could handle. An emotionless statue I drew a blank.
"Has your mum eaten anything? Maybe we should make her a sandwich before we leave?" I said as we stopped outside the lounge door.
"She won't eat it even if you make something, never does."
"What about you?"
"I'm a big boy, Mackenzie, I can look after myself."
He walked to the front door, and I followed.
"You don't cook."
"I can if I want to. I can even use a washing machine."
"Wow, never knew guys like you existed. My dad still has to ask what setting it goes on if he's forced to do it."
Blake smirked. "He knows. If he pisses you off by asking every time, you won't make him do it. I would have done the same but just being me and Dad at home..."
"I've never met your dad."
He unlocked the car and opened his door. "We're not quite there yet." Rolling my eyes, I got in the passenger side. We weren't together and right now that was the last thing on my mind but we were something. "So what's this Lawrence like?"
"He was really nice before Tilly died."
"Understandable, I guess."
"He doesn't like Josh so we probably shouldn't mention you're his brother."
He scoffed and pulled out of his driveway. "Is there anyone in this village that actually did like him?"
"Courtney," I replied. "Look, he wasn't all bad and no one actually wanted him to die."
Blake's eyebrow arched. "One person did. We're still assuming it was just one person, right?"
I shrugged. "Can't say I've thought too much about that. All I know is that it's not one of my friends."
"Or more than one of your friends."
I narrowed my eyes. "You know when I first met you I thought you were alright." He was probably the most frustrating person on the earth. Blake turned his head to me and smirked. "Watch the road!"
"Where does this guy live exactly?"
I gave him the address and sat back, holding on and praying for my life. The accelerator was Blake's best friend. He didn't necessarily drive dangerously; he just liked to put his foot down, frequently.
"What are you gonna say to him? We can't exactly knock on his door and be hey, did you murder two teens--"
"I get it," I said, cutting him off. What should we say? After Tilly died I popped around to see how they all were and helped them sort out some of her clothes they were donating to charity, but I hadn't been in months. Perhaps I could use that as an excuse though? "I'll say I'm checking in to make sure they're okay, like I used to. Remember, do not tell them you're related to Josh. I'm serious, Blake."
"Yeah, I got it, but thanks for the child's reminder."
I refused to talk to Blake for the rest of the short journey; we would probably end up bickering, and I needed to stay calm. I was an awful liar and prayed that Lawrence wouldn't see through me straight away.
As Blake pulled up outside the yellow brick bungalow, my heart started to pound against my chest. I might be the only one willing to go out there and look for the real killer, but I was definitely the worst person to do it.
"Ready?" Blake asked.
I gulped and nodded. "Let's just get this over with." I didn't want to think about him being the killer. I had slept in that bungalow hundreds of times and eaten Lawrence's famous cheese and bacon bagels more times than I could count. How could someone I know be a murderer? Murderers were in other people's lives or on TV shows. They shouldn't exist in my world.
I walked along the path slowly with Blake tailing behind. He didn't make any stupid comments or try to hurry me. Tapping on the door lightly, I took a deep breath to try and calm my racing heart.
"Mackenzie, what a surprise," Lawrence said as he opened the door. He frowned. "What brings you here?"
I smiled, going over the reason I rehearsed in my head dozens of times on the way. "I just wanted to come by and see how you're all doing. It's been a while."
"It has." He nodded once and looked at Blake. "And you are?"
Don't say you're Josh's brother, do not say you're Josh's brother. I wasn't sure how Lawrence would react if he knew; he hated Josh more than anyone. Blake he
ld his hand out, and Lawrence shook it. "Everyone calls me Spike." He slung his arm over my shoulder. "I'm Mackenzie's boyfriend."
I am going to kill him. I smiled tightly, gritting my teeth. Spike! Could he have come up with anything more lame? We should have discussed who he'd be in the car but I did not see 'Spike' coming.
"Spike," Lawrence said slowly and looked at me as if it to say what on earth are you doing? "Nice to meet you. Please, come on in."
Lawrence walked ahead, and I took the opportunity while his attention wasn't on us to slap Blake's arm. 'What the hell?' I mouthed, which only made him smile.
"You know your way to the living room. I'll make us some tea," he said over his shoulder. Blake tuned his nose up but didn't ask for coffee instead.
"Okay," I replied, turning right into the lounge. It was exactly the same as before, but they had replaced the wooden framed clock with a more modern metal one. Tilly hated that old clock and said it looked like it belonged in a retirement home. I had a feeling they changed it for her.
Blake and I waited in silence. I played with my fingers, nervously anticipating the conversation we were about to have. Beside me, Blake pressed his leg against mine and then took my hand, forcing me to relax a little.
"Calm down," he whispered.
"What if he did it?"
"I don't think he'll admit it, Mackenzie. We'll be alright."
"What if we're not? If he killed them he's capable of doing the same to us."
Gripping my chin, he tilted me so my focus was on him. "There is nothing in this world that is going to hurt you."
I wished we were back in his room because that was seriously sweet and by his own admission he didn't do or say anything heartfelt.
"What's happening to you?" I teased. I meant it as a joke but Blake scowled, thinking about it.
Lawrence came into the room and set a tray of tea and biscuits down on the coffee table. Blake and I sat up straight.
"Thank you," I said. "So, how have you been?"
He sat down on the worn leather sofa opposite us. "Not too bad. Yourself?"
"Not great."
"Right, of course. I'm very sorry to hear about Joshua and Courtney." Are you? "You found them, didn't you?"
"I'm very sorry you saw that, Mackenzie. It must be very hard to live with."
Lawrence said the words, but they didn't seem genuine. I had always got along with Tilly's family; when she died Lawrence barely spoke to me. I knew he would have preferred it to be me instead of Tilly - of course he would - but I didn't think he would hate me for it.
Blake tensed beside me. Not now! "I'm very sorry to hear about your daughter, Lawrence. Mackenzie's told me Tilly was a great person."
"Thank you, Spike. She was a great person, one of the best. My Tilly was going to be a doctor. All she ever wanted was to help people."
I smiled at the bitter sweet memories of her tending to us all whenever something was wrong. She would never get her dream career; the sick were missing out on an incredible doctor. "She would have been great at it. I've lost count of the times she played doctor when someone hurt themselves. You remember when I sprained my wrist a few years ago and she insisted on checking it regularly and changing the bandage."
Lawrence laughed. "She drove you crazy if I remember correctly."
"Yeah, I had to keep stopping what I was doing so she could look. There wasn't even anything to check!" I would have understood if it was a cut she could re-dress, but there was nothing to do. That was Tilly though; even if there was nothing that she could do to help she still tried and made sure.
"Aaron mentioned that too. Do you remember when he had pneumonia last year, and Tilly spent most of the week at his bedside?" Lawrence said, smiling fondly at the memory. "It was a shame they didn't have the chance to make a go of things. He's a good lad and it's clear he's in love with her." It was? Their relationship was so on and off and so rocky you could barely give it the relationship title.
"Yeah, they would have been good together," I said. Now they were more mature maybe they could have been. "Aaron misses her, too."
"Yes, he's here often to be close to her."
I tried to hide the surprise on my face. Aaron came here often? We all visited but not really often anymore. Had I completely underestimated his feelings for Tilly? Why were they so horrible to each other half of the time then? It didn't make sense.
"He still comes a lot? I didn't know that."
"Almost every week. He sits in her room or sometimes we look through pictures. I was surprised at first; Tilly was always crying over him, or ranting at how much of a 'stupid pissing idiot' he was." I could hear her words so clearly. She had used that phrase for Aaron so many times in the past. "It really does mean a lot that he still cares for her so deeply."
How deeply? Deeply enough that it made him hate Courtney for being the unfortunate one behind the wheel of the van and hate Josh for his part? Aaron and vengeful just didn't go. He didn't hurt others over an accident; that wasn't him. That wasn't any of them.
"That's nice. I like that he does that. Tills would too."
Lawrence smiled but his lips barely curled. "She would."
"How long ago was the accident?" Blake asked, putting a little too much emphasis on the word accident.
"Eight months ago," I replied. I couldn't quite believe months had past. It still seemed like yesterday. I could still clearly hear the sound of crunching metal, smashing glass and my friends' screams. The minivan rolled over before coming to an abrupt stop in a ditch. I was in the row of seats in front of them, and if the lorry had hit just a few inches forward I probably would have died, too.
"Eight months and six days," Lawrence corrected. He shook his head. "I will never understand why Giana drank."
I bit my lip. She didn't mean to get drunk. Before losing about a stone, she could drink about five or six drinks and not feel a thing. She only had two beers, and they didn't have a high alcohol volume at all.
"She didn't mean to," I whispered. It wasn't Gigi's fault, or Courtney and Josh's. Why were so many people having a hard time understanding that? It was a fucking accident!
"I believe that, but the accident happened as a direct result of Giana's drinking." The way he said Gigi's name gave me chills. It was similar to how hateful Kyle sounded when he told me how much Courtney hurt him.
We were hit by a damn lorry. The driver was irrelevant when you had a massive lorry ramming you up the arse! They never stood a chance, and if Gigi had been driving it still would have been Tilly that died. The man sitting in front of me wasn't who he used to be. He was cold and detached. His eyes were empty and his face showed little emotion or understanding.
It was him. Lawrence was the killer.
The blood drained from my face. I gripped Blake's hand and stood up. "We should go. We have to meet Megan soon." Blake frowned, looking at me as if I had lost it. Maybe I had. "I'll stop by soon, Lawrence."
He shook his head, surprised by our sudden departure. "Okay."
I held Blake's hand in a death grip and pulled him through the house and out of the front door. I could barely breathe properly.
"Him," I whispered. "It was him."
Blake took charge. With one hand on the small of my back, he pushed me forwards, quickly leading me to his truck. "Get in," he said, opening the door for me. It was the only time he had done that for me; I usually had to do the door myself. Only took catching a murderer!
"It's him," I repeated when Blake was safely in the car.
"You don't know that. The way he spoke about Gigi is the way most people talk about Josh. Hating someone doesn't make you a killer, remember? Don't mess this up by charging in when you're all emotional like this," he said wiggling his fingers in my direction. "Mackenzie, do nothing for now."
"What? We can't just do nothing!"
"We don't have a choice. If it's him, there's no evidence. If he's pulled in for questioning and it's him he'll make double sure his tracks are covered. Please, thi
nk about this carefully. Let's at least wait until Wright has the results on that blood back before we go to him with this."
I took a deep breath. He was right; I could screw everything up if I accused him without proof. "Wow, you're making sense."
He smiled. "Why thank you. Now, I'm going to drop you off at Aaron's and check in on my mum. Call me if you need me but don't say anything, okay."
"Yeah, okay. Thanks, Blake."
"Say that again."
I rolled my eyes, looking out of the window and smiling to myself. I had teamed up with a right-for-once idiot!
Blake dropped me off at Aaron's as promised. Aaron and I walked the five minutes to Megan's house. The sun was shining and the air was warm, it was weather that used to automatically put a smile on my face. It didn't today.
"I went to see Lawrence," I said, playing with the hem of my top as we walked, wishing I had worn a sleeveless top. The sun felt as if it was just a mile away and shone directly down in front of my face. My skin prickled with the heat. I didn't like it. The heat only added to the odd feeling I had in the pit of my stomach.
"Yeah," he replied, walking without a halt in his step or a flash of realisation in his all too cool expression. Either Aaron had nothing to hide or he did a wicked poker face. "He okay?"
Shouldn't you already know that? He was playing it down. Did he know that I knew or not? "He's doing alright."
"Showed no murderous signs?"
"No." Not really, just something he'd said and a feeling I'd had that could be nothing. My head was a mess, and I didn't know if what I thought or felt was because I wanted my friends to be innocent so badly. I was starting to question myself, and I didn't trust my instincts one hundred per cent anymore. "He told me you still visit."
He nodded once, his lips thinning into a straight line. "Oh. Well, yeah, I do."
"You really miss her still."
"Yeah. Can we change the subject, please?"
"Sure," I replied. Why? He had never had a problem with talking about Tilly before, unless it was with Josh. Just how much did he miss her and think about her?
Aaron groaned suddenly, looking over his shoulder. "He just pops up. Fuckin' psycho."
I followed where he was looking and saw Wright pull up on the side of the road. He was either tracking us or just driving around until he found us. Aaron and I stopped, knowing he would just follow if we didn't. He obviously had something to say.