CHAPTER ELEVEN
Mario’s Pizzeria has a prime location directly on the boardwalk. The interior, though, isn’t worth raving about. Only one table has an ocean view. The others are arranged in a single row that stretches about eight deep to the back of the store. Opposite the tables is the counter, behind which Shep Arnett, a rising senior at Midway Beach High who looks bored enough to fall asleep, flips pizza dough.
“This pizza is awesome.” Max holds up a slice of half-eaten pie. He ordered it New York style, the correct way. “Asking you out to lunch, definitely the right move.”
His blue eyes are sparkling, a vivid contrast to his black hair. I might have a good view after all, not that I’d admit that out loud.
“You could have just asked where to go for good pizza.’
“And miss out on your company? Where’s the fun in that?” He holds my gaze, the smile on his lips matching the one in his eyes. He always gives me his complete attention, like nobody else in the vicinity matters.
“Are you trying to distract me?”
“Now why would I do that?” Before I can answer, he indicates the uneaten slice of pizza on my plate. “Aren’t you gonna eat that?”
He takes another bite of pizza and chews enthusiastically. The tangy scent of tomato sauce drifts up from my plate. My stomach growls.
“You’re doing it again,” I accuse.
He finishes chewing and swallows. “Doing what again?”
“Distracting me.”
“Because I like the way you look when you wear your hair down?” He reaches across the table with his left hand and slides a piece of my hair between his thumb and index finger. “It’s very pretty.”
My hair isn’t even close to pretty. In some lights it looks red, and it’s so hard to keep out of my face that I usually wear it back. I lean back so his hand drops away. “You know I’m only here because I want to find out why you’re so interested in the Black Widow.”
He frowns. “I thought it was because you were hot for me.”
“In your dreams.”
“Oh, you have a starring role.” He does this quivering thing with his eyebrows.
I’m rolling my eyes when the door swings open and Hunter Prescott walks into the restaurant. “Oh, damn.”
The teasing light goes out of Max’s eyes. “Something wrong?”
“No, nothing.”
The concern’s still there. “It must be something.”
“Hunter Prescott just walked in.”
Max is sitting with his back to the door. Ninety-nine people out of a hundred would turn around and take a look for themselves. Max keeps his attention riveted on me. “So?”
So now that Hunter’s without a girlfriend, I don’t want him to think I have a boyfriend.
“Oh, I get it,” Max says, although I don’t know how he could possibly get anything at all from my silence. “This Hunter guy’s my competition.”
He finally turns to take a look at Hunter, and I hear his breath catch. For once, it’s not me claiming his rapt attention. “What did you say Hunter’s last name is?”
“Prescott. Why? Do you know him?”
He turns back to me, his expression blank. “Never seen him before.”
Over Max’s shoulder, Hunter spots me and lifts a hand. He looks perfect, as usual. Lean and muscular with dark sunglasses tucked into the neckline of a sleeveless T-shirt that calls attention to the muscular definition in his arms. I wave back and think that’ll be the end of it.
“Hey, Jade,” he calls, arrowing straight for us. My heartbeat gets faster with every step nearer he takes. “I heard you found the Black Widow dead on the beach.”
That explains what he’s doing at the table.
“We both found her.” Max’s hand is wrapped around his Coke. He doesn’t offer to shake Hunter’s hand. “I’m Max Harper.”
“Oh, yeah. I heard about you. The new guy at the carnival.” Hunter points to his chest. “Hunter Prescott. I work at the arcade.”
“Join us,” Max offers.
My mouth actually drops open.
“Sure.” Hunter indicates the counter where you can buy pizza by the slice. “Let me order something from Shep first. Then I want to hear all about the Widow.”
Max leans back in his seat, hyperfocused on me once again. “You’re surprised I invited the competition to eat with us. I can see it all over your face.”
I can’t speak until I clear the disbelief from my throat. “You’re not competing with Hunter. If you were, you’d so lose.”
“Ouch.” He covers his heart. “And here I thought I was winning points for believing you weren’t on that ski trip with Roxy.”
It’s as though he knows Hunter lost interest in me when I had my crisis. Either somebody’s feeding Max information about me or he’s a mind reader. With all the other weird shit going on, I can’t discount anything.
“You’d win more points if you level with me,” I say.
Hunter’s return interrupts whatever Max might have said. Two giant pizza slices with pepperoni almost slide off Hunter’s plate as he sits down next to me. His arm brushes mine, and I barely resist leaning into the contact.
“What’s the deal?” Hunter asks. “How’d you happen to find the Widow?”
“Jade and I wanted to be alone so we left the party to take a walk on the beach,” Max says, which is totally misleading.
Hunter looks back and forth between Max and me as though he expects our mouths to meet over the table for an open-mouthed kiss.
“Then we found the corpse,” Max continues. “Not a lot to the story.”
If, that is, you leave out Max’s contention that Constance Hightower’s body was moved after she died.
“I heard she killed herself,” Hunter says.
“That would explain why she wasn’t moving,” Max says.
“What did she look like?” The way Hunter chomps down on his pizza reminds me of the kids who stuff their faces with popcorn at the movie theater while they wait to be entertained.
“She looked...” Max pauses and leans forward, giving his next word more weight. “...dead.”
Hunter doesn’t smile. “You’re a smart-ass, aren’t you?”
“You been checking out my ass?” Max asks. “With Jade sitting right here?”
The testosterone is so thick in the air it might soon have a sharper scent than the tomato-rich pizza. Considering these two just met, I’m not sure what’s going on. What we need is a neutral subject.
“Max came to Midway Beach to work at the carnival.” That sounds non-inflammatory enough. “He’s from upstate.”
“How long have you lived here, Hunter?” Max asks.
Hunter takes his time chewing before he answers. “A couple years.”
“Did you move here with your folks?”
“I’m staying with my aunt and uncle until August.” That must be when he’ll leave for New York City and drama school, possibly for good. My heart contracts. The silence stretches for a moment before Hunter adds, “Martha and George Prescott.”
“Is George your dad’s brother?”
“No. Martha’s my mom’s sister.”
“Really?” Max sounds like that’s the most interesting thing he’s heard all day. “You go by your uncle’s last name?”
Hunter picks up his bottled water and drains half of it. “It’s a coincidence. Both sisters married guys named Prescott.”
Max leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Interesting.”
It takes Hunter about two more minutes to scarf down his pizza while I ramble on about nothing in particular. Neither Max nor Hunter does more than grunt a time or two in bare acknowledgement of my blather.
As soon as Hunter’s finished eating, he leaps to his feet. “See you around, Jade.”
Hunter doesn’t say a word to Max.
“What was that all about?” I ask the instant Hunter’s gone. “What was the deal with those questions about his last name?”
“They were
just questions.”
No matter how many different ways I ask, Max won’t elaborate. By the time he drives me home, I’ve stopped trying. We cover the distance in silence with the wind blowing through the open windows of his truck. He pulls into the driveway. I yank open the door, get out and slam it behind me.
“Hey, Jade.” His voice stops me before I reach the sidewalk, but I don’t turn. “Hunter Prescott is trouble.”
I whirl to find him leaning partially out the window. “How would you know? Do you have some sort of secret history with him?”
The problem with that theory is Hunter showed no sign of a previous acquaintance with Max. Then again, Hunter is a skilled actor.
“I know lots of guys like him,” Max says through the open window. “Do yourself a favor and stay away from him, okay?”
I let out a surprised laugh. “I’m supposed to listen to you?”
“Yeah, you are.”
“Why’s that?”
He puts the car in reverse before he calls out an answer. “Because I might be the only one in town who doesn’t think you’re crazy.”