I looked at the scrawls on her notepad. “Uh . . . okay.” I had no idea how she’d figured that out so quickly. I’d always known Sarah was smart. It was part of what made her so amazing and her thing with Trip so confounding. I watched her toying with the numbers again, her brow furrowed.
She looked up. “What?”
“Uh . . .” I floundered.
“You’re still in awe of my skills?” She smirked.
“Actually, yes.”
Sarah held my eyes for a second. “Are you thinking what I am?”
Unless she was thinking how unbelievably hot she was, no. “What?”
She cast her eyes quickly over to our classmates and teacher, all busy with their work. “We should use this.” She gestured at the paper.
“Use wha—” I stopped, my jaw literally hanging open. “You don’t mean at Nat’s . . .”
I almost told Sarah no way, but I was finding myself sucked into the whodunit along with all the Buford High gossipmongers, the developments with Galen turning it into a real puzzle. If the receipt at Morris Headley’s had been forged, did it mean someone was trying to frame Galen? Or had he just been smart enough to fake his own signature when he’d pawned it, as unlikely as that seemed?
I nodded. “Okay. Let’s run it by the others.”
***
It didn’t go so well.
“No way,” Natalie said immediately. “You can’t be serious.”
I looked at Sarah, wondering if we’d made a terrible error in judgment.
“Nat,” she said calmly. “The cops are getting nowhere. Things keep going around and around. Why shouldn’t we look into it a little?”
“I . . . just . . .” She shook her head, tears in her eyes. “No.”
Sarah watched her for a second, then nodded. “Okay,” she said, soothing. “You’re right.” She put an arm around Nat. “I’m sorry. We were just trying to help.”
“I think we should still get together, though,” Trip said. “We can do it at my house and just talk through what we know. There’s a lot going on here, and I’ll bet you any money we’re hearing more than the cops are.”
“Not that they’d have a clue what to do with it anyway,” Tannis said.
“We’ll do it Saturday night. Okay?”
It was a typical Trip suggestion that wasn’t so much a suggestion as a command. I could see that Natalie wanted to say no, had had enough of all of this, but instead she asked, “Do you mind if I bring John?”
“John Peters?” Trip asked.
“Duh! Who else?” Tannis rolled her eyes. “He’s Nat’s new boyfriend, dummy.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
Trip raised his eyebrows. “Why do you want him to come?”
“He might be able to help.”
Trip thought about it for a second. “Yeah, okay. As long as you think he’s not going to be pissed that we’re, like, messing in ‘police business.’”
***
After Natalie and Tannis left, Trip turned to me and Sarah. “Listen,” he said. “What you suggested to Nat earlier?”
I nodded, anticipating a rebuke.
“I think it’s a great idea. Probably stupid to mention to Nat,” he added. “I mean, do you really think she wants to go back to the living room and measure her dad’s blood?”
“No.”
“But you should do it.”
“Behind her back?”
“It’s for her own good,” Trip said. “You still have the keys?”
I did, having locked up when Trip loaded the car the last time we’d been there. I’d found them in my coat pocket later but when I tried to return them to Nat at school, she’d told me to “throw them in the sewer.”
“You can’t take Tannis, obviously,” Trip continued. “She’ll just puke her guts out again. I wouldn’t even tell her, just in case she decides to tell Nat. I can come, but it’ll have to be after practice, which gets pretty late. It’s not like I can contribute much anyhow. Let’s face it. This is a job for nerds . . . like you two.” He smiled broadly.
Sarah stuck her tongue out at him, and he tried to grab it. She shrieked and jumped away, laughing.
I watched them, thinking, Is this for real?
Is Trip really flirting with his girlfriend, who I have the hots for—and who I made out with just yesterday—and then sending me off alone with her for hours on end?
I guess he figured there was no chance she’d be into a nerd like me.
But I knew that was just a lame-ass excuse to make myself feel better. The proverbial devil on my shoulder. The reality was that Trip trusted me. He’d never in a million years think I was the kind of guy who’d make a play for his girlfriend.
And I was an ass**le for having betrayed that. It wouldn’t happen again.
“What do you think?” I asked Sarah directly, vowing to get myself in line, stop thinking about her. I hoped she’d make it easy and back out.
But of course, she didn’t. “I already told you I think we should do it,” she said. “If you’re game, Riley, I’m in.”
CHAPTER 22
WE PARKED ABOUT A HALF mile up the road from the Clearys’. It wasn’t much of a hiding spot, but it seemed better than leaving my car in front like a neon sign, just in case Natalie drove by. Or Tannis or the cops. Or the killer.
Sarah and I walked back downhill to the trailer. Our breath came fast as we picked our way carefully through the front yard.
I dug my hand into my jeans for the ring of keys and then propped the screen door with my hip as I fit the key into the lock, my stomach feeling sour. I looked over my shoulder at Sarah. “You ready?”
She nodded, looking as jittery as I felt.
I opened the door, and a stale, tangy odor wafted toward me, tickling the back of my throat. Neither of us moved for a few seconds. Maybe she was having the same second thoughts I was, but if I questioned it, I had a feeling we’d wind up bolting for the car, so I stepped inside. Sarah followed, pushing the door gently closed behind her.
We stood there staring at the walls, splashed with dark droplets.
“It’s just math. Right, Riley?” Sarah’s voice sounded high and quavery.
“Right.” I let my bag slide to the floor, then knelt beside it. Focus, I thought, willing myself to breathe deeply, which might have been a mistake. There was an undercurrent of something rancid. Rotting food, probably. No one had taken out the trash here or cleaned the dishes. The power was probably shut off, with things moldering in the fridge.