CHAPTER SIX
Later that afternoon, I call the Greensboro police. My call’s transferred from cop to cop until I get someone on the line who deals with missing persons. The cop’s female and speaks in a high-pitched voice, sort of like Jason’s homicidal mom in the Friday the 13th movies.
“You need to come into the office,” she squeaks before I can tell her what I’m after.
“But I’m in Midway Beach. That’s hours away.” Inside my bedroom behind a closed door with my retro posters of The Bride of Frankenstein and The Creature from the Black Lagoon, to be exact. Mom’s not home, but I’m not taking any chances that Julian or Suri are listening.
“Midway Beach is out of our jurisdiction, ma’am. I can direct you to another department and transfer your call.”
“No! No! No more transfers.” I’ve got to talk fast. The cops on her force have itchy transfer fingers. “The person I’m calling about isn’t missing anymore. He’s been found.”
There’s a pause at the other end of the line. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m calling about an old case from back in January. A teenage boy by the name of Max Harper.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell.”
It couldn’t be harder to draw a breath if my lungs filled with ice. Frankenstein’s bride seems to be staring at me out of the poster, silently warning me about the danger of getting too close to the wrong guy. “So your department never handled a case involving Max Harper?”
“I didn’t say that. I said I didn’t remember. Can you tell me anything the case?’
“Max was walking home when somebody came up from behind and clocked him.” I repeat the tale Max spun for me. “Two days later, he was found in the same spot where he disappeared.”
“Oh, yeah. How could I forget? His mom was very insistent that we find him.”
The ice coating my lungs starts to thaw. The bride of Frankenstein no longer seems to be shooting warning looks at me. “Then Max was missing?”
“Depends on what you mean by missing. I’ll say this. His mother didn’t know where he was for a couple of days.”
“Do you know where he was?”
“I can’t say any more, ma’am, but there are other ways to get information.”
“Do you mean a P.I.? Because I don’t have the money for that.”
She clears her throat. Even that noise is high-pitched. “I was talking about Google.”
Two minutes after I hang up, I’m on the Internet with my cyber tail between my legs. I’m a product of the digital age. How could I not have thought to research Max’s story online?
Nothing comes up when I type Max Harper into the search engine. I change the first name to Maxwell and search again.
The first result is a newspaper story accompanied by a school photo of Max. At the time the story was published, Max was two days gone. The facts match what I’ve been told with only one new detail. When he disappeared, Max was returning home from canvassing for a longtime North Carolina congresswoman running for Senate.
The name of the congresswoman seems familiar. I call up another browser and do a search for Savannah Shepherd. This time, the screen fills with results, most of them about the congresswoman’s son. I click through to the first story, a news brief.
The teenage son of U.S. Rep. Savannah Shepherd (R-N.C.) is missing and presumed dead after his twenty-foot sailboat was found drifting empty off the coast of Corolla, N.C.
Adam Shepherd, 19, was out on bail awaiting trial on a charge of vehicular homicide. Last fall, the car Shepherd was driving T-boned a pickup truck. Several witnesses said Shepherd was traveling at a high rate of speed and ran a red light. His passenger, Madison Everett, 18, died at the scene.
Madison was the daughter of Edmund Everett, founder of the Ever Fresh grocery store chain. Sources said that Adam Shepherd was despondent over the accident.
Adam Shepherd was staying at his family’s vacation home in Corolla, N.C., when he set sail. Savannah Shepherd said her son left behind a suicide note but declined to reveal the content.
Intriguing. I scroll down to the next result on the page, click through to another newspaper story about the congresswoman’s son and read it through to the end. The last paragraph mentions that after the empty sailboat was found, the Coast Guard conducted a search for Adam Shepherd’s body that lasted several days before it was called off.
But none of this is about Max. I flip back to the other browser.
Max wasn’t exaggerating about his mother. She’s quoted extensively, insisting her son would never take off without telling her and begging the public for information. The only mention of Max’s return is a single paragraph in a news roundup that doesn’t mention where he was for two days.
If it’s like Max said and the police figured he was off on a bender, he ran into the same skepticism as I did.
I’m still puzzling over how our cases are connected when I report to work. I catch a break and run into a co-worker with the new combination lock to the trailer, so there’s no need to track down Roxy. After I dump my backpack, I check the night’s assignment sheet. First up for me are the swings.
Halfway to the ride, I spot Lacey Prescott leaving one of the concession booths. She’s with her mother, Hunter’s aunt. Lacey tears off a generous piece of blue and pink swirled cotton candy and stuffs it into her mouth. I nearly go into second-hand sugar shock.
“Hey, Jade,” Lacey calls through lips stained blue. “Do you know when the Hurricane’s opening?”
The ten-year-old who freaked in the funhouse is really asking when the carnival’s wooden roller coaster will be ready for business? “Hey, Lacey. In five or six days, I think. Why? You gonna take a spin?”
“Lacey’s too young for the Hurricane.” Her mother is dressed in the same designer suit she wore this morning at the hospital. “You shouldn’t encourage her.”
It takes all my will to keep smiling. “Hello, Mrs. Prescott. Good to see you again.”
“Again? Have we met?”
And people wonder why I have an insecurity problem.
“I’m Jade Greene, a friend of Hunter’s.”
“Now I remember you!” She points at my cheek, which I assume still carries Adair’s handprint. “The girl who was fighting with Adair.”
“Adair was fighting with me.” Time to change the subject. “How’s Hunter?”
“Coming along nicely.” She digs some cash from her purse and turns to her daughter. “Honey, why don’t you play the ring toss game while I have a chat with Jade?”
Mrs. Prescott wants to talk to me?
“Sure, Mom.” Lacey takes the money and heads for the game. I’m betting she won’t win a prize, not when she’s busy juggling the cotton candy.
Mrs. Prescott steps out of the way of the stream of people deciding whether to blow their money on games, concessions or rides. I’ve got no choice but to join her.
“You’re probably wondering why I’m at the carnival with Lacey while Hunter’s in the hospital,” Mrs. Prescott says.
Actually, I was trying to figure out if she practiced her snotty voice in front of a mirror.
“I didn’t have the heart to tell Lacey no when she asked to come,” she continues. “It is Saturday night. And it’s been hard on her with what’s going on with Hunter. Speaking of Hunter, do you know what’s going on with him?”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, come now, Jade. No need to play the innocent. Adair told me you were eavesdropping on my husband and I.”
“I wasn’t eavesdropping, exactly.” How to phrase this? “I was in the hall and overheard you talking.”
Her features turn even more pinched than usual. “How much did you overhear?”
Opportunities present themselves when you least expect them. No use letting this one pass by. “I know Hunter was poisoned.”
“That information is confidential.” She emphasizes the word. “Who let you on the floor this morning, anyway? Only family can visit Hunter.”
May
be she won’t notice if I don’t give her a direct answer. “Adair’s not family.”
“No, but Hunter and Adair are very close. Getting back to what we were discussing—”
“So they’re back together, Hunter and Adair?”
The question seems to throw her. “Did they break up?”
“A few days ago. Adair was angry with him.” Someone needs to put a bug in her ear about Adair. Who better than the girl Adair bitch-slapped? “Have the police questioned her?”
“Why would the police question her?”
Time to try out my acting skills, although I don’t have half the talent of her nephew. Hunter blew everybody away senior year when he played the lead in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. I cover my mouth and make my eyes go wide. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, tell me.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing.” To make myself sound more authentic, I suck in a breath through my teeth before continuing. “It’s just that I ran into Hunter last night at the carnival.”
“What does that have to do with Adair?’
“He was on his way to the concession stand to talk to her. It’s just that, well, if he ordered anything...” I let the words hang.
Her eyes narrow and her brow creases. “Wait a minute. Is your last name Greene?”
“Yeah.” Her question brings up one of my own. “Is yours Prescott? Your maiden name, I mean.”
“Prescott’s my married name.” Her statement proves Hunter lied to me and Max about why he was going by the Prescott last name. I have no clue why he isn’t using his real last name, but Max might. “Hunter’s mentioned you, by the way.”
The way she says it, I can tell Hunter hasn’t said anything good. “Is that right?”
“Did Hunter tell you I’m a psychiatrist?”
My throat gets so tight, all I can do is nod.
She digs in her purse, pulls out a business card and hands it to me. “In case you need it.”
That’s her exit line. My tongue feels thick and useless as she walks away. It’s not like she’ll believe me if I call after her insisting I’m sane, anyway. Adair probably told her the fight at the hospital was my fault. As though I’m in danger of erupting at the slightest provocation.
“Jade! Jade!” My brother Julian holds a stuffed teddy bear almost as big as he is. He leaves his friend Tommy, who’s a couple grades ahead of him in school, in the ticket booth line and waddles toward me. “Look what I won!”
The bear is the top prize at the carnival. The games are so stacked against the players that in my three summer I’ve seen maybe two leave the carnival. “Wow! How’d you do that?”
“The color wheel! I won three times in a row!” Julian’s a typical twelve-year-old who likes sports and video games. The giant teddy bear doesn’t seem like his thing. “Do you think Mom will like it?”
Now I get it. If I wasn’t so down on Mom, I’d think it was sweet that Julian wanted to please her. “Sure. What was your strategy? Did you pick your favorite colors?”
“No, I...” He points toward the ticket booth, losing his train of thought. Another of his friends has joined Tommy in line. “Look, it’s Brandon! I’m gonna show him big teddy!”
Julian walks awkwardly away, one arm wrapped around the stuffed bear’s thick neck.
“Later,” I call after him, but he’s already done with me. I need to get to the swings and start my shift, anyway. If I don’t hurry, I’ll be late and incur the wrath of Roxy. I take a shortcut between the Tilt-a-Wheel and the fresh lemonade stand, darting in front of the Drama Queen Twins, who are giggling rather than watching where they’re going.
The look-alike former cheerleaders stop so suddenly, they almost fall off their wedged sandals.
“Hey, watch it!” the taller, more dramatic one yells. Her name’s either Heather or Ashley. I never can keep the two of them straight.
“Sorry.” I don’t slow down.
“Did you hear the latest about her?” The shorter girl’s voice carries. “She’s trying to steal Hunter from Adair.”
Really? That’s what Maia came up with after our conversation at the dentist’s office? Maia’s supposed to be my friend. I don’t get a little positive spin on the gossip?
My route takes me past the concession stand where Max and Adair work. I’m not up to analyzing whether my subconscious has anything to do with that.
“Hey, Jade,” Max calls from the window.
I pretend not to hear him and speed up. I don’t need another lecture about how I should stay away from Hunter.
“Hey, Jade.” Max’s voice again, behind me and getting closer. “Would you stop, please?’
If I don’t, he’ll keep on following me. I whirl. The wind rustles his dark hair, making him look... touchable. Groan. He’s wearing that ugly orange T-shirt. He shouldn’t look so good. “What?”
“Whoa. What’s with the evil eye? We’re supposed to be working together.”
So he didn’t stop me to belabor that embarrassing cat fight at the hospital. “Sorry. It’s been one of those days.”
“I hear you. But I’m on your side. Have been since Wilder Woods.”
Except that’s not true. Max lied about why he was lurking around Adair’s cabin. He said because I was a stranger. It finally dawns on me what was off about his story: The timetable. By the time we’d met, he’d already been to Midway Beach and heard all about me.
“Why did you pretend not to know who I was in Wilder Woods?” I shoot the question at him, like bullets from a gun.
“Because I didn’t.”
“You knew I’d gone missing.”
“I knew Jade Greene had gone missing. You didn’t exactly introduce yourself. You were too busy threatening to gouge out my eyes with your car keys.”
He’s got a point, but how much do I really know about him? The cops could be right about him having a drug problem. He could be high right now. Except the eyes of people on drugs aren’t so clear and pretty.
Pretty? I hate myself sometimes.
“You’re still on board with helping me figure out this thing, right?’ He takes my hand, and I feel myself weakening.
“Oh, my gawd! Look who she’s hitting on now.” It’s the shorter of the DQ Twins, the one with the loud voice.
I try to slip my hand from Max’s, but he holds tight and pulls me toward him. I open my mouth to protest. He dips his head, shutting out my words with a kiss. His lips are soft and coaxing. I know there’s something I want to tell him, but I can’t dredge it up. Not when his hair smells of the candy apples from the concession stand, both sweet and addictive.
He raises his head and smiles at me. My lips curve upward. A burst of gunfire fills the air, the toy guns with the fake ammunition from the shooting gallery. It jars me into remembering where we are. The DQ Twins are well past us, but both of their heads are swiveled so far over their shoulders they’re in danger of doing a 360. Because demonic possessions would really complete my day.
“What did you do that for?” I’m not doing a very good job of sounding annoyed. “Those girls are almost as bad as Maia. They’ll tell everybody about that kiss.”
“Good.”
“Good?” That gets my temper rolling. “You don’t think there’s enough gossip about me? Not only am I crazy, I’m trying to steal Hunter from Adair.”
“You don’t want that getting around.”
“No joke.”
“Nobody will think you’re after Hunter if you hang out with me.” He still has hold of my hand. “Think of it as a perk of us working together.”
A few days ago, I worried Hunter wouldn’t pay attention to me if he thought I had something going with another guy. That doesn’t seem like such a big deal anymore. I’m much more interested in saving face. If Max can help me do that, why not take him up on it?
“I'm all about the perks,” I say.
“Good.” His grin grows wider. “Let’s meet tomorrow on the beach. One p.m.”
Did
he really intend to treat me like a girlfriend?
“To hang out?” I ask.
“To compare notes.” He brushes a kiss over my lips before I can figure out whether I’m disappointed in his answer. Then he straightens and winks at me. “And to give me an excuse to see you in a bathing suit.”