Dead Girls Don't Lie (27 page)

I put my hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. “I’m sorry—”

“Forget it, it’s too late.” He gestures at me with his gun. “If you find anything like that again, bring it to me, not the police, and not your novio.” He spits out the word “novio” like it tastes bad on his tongue. He turns away, shoving the gun back into his shirt.

“Where are you going?” I step in front of him.

“There’s something I have to do.”

“Eduardo, wait.” I put my hand on his shoulder, afraid of where he’s going.

He pulls away. “If I find what I’m looking for, you’ll be the first to know.”

Chapter 29

After he leaves I’m not sure what I should do. Follow him? Call the police and tell them about the gun? I don’t know what the right thing is anymore. I keep getting deeper into this, and I’m not any closer to finding out the truth.

I turn over my phone, bracing myself to see what Rachel saw. The picture is just a drawing of a generic person, with red markings indicating wounds, a lot of wounds. I scan that first, examining the marks drawn on his chest, but I don’t see anything that looks like it could be a number. I read the report, picking out words like multiple lacerations, punctured aorta, and extensive bleeding. It all sounds so clinical and sterile, not like it was talking about a real person, not someone who died right here in this house.

I read through it again. I don’t understand a lot of the words and terminology, but I don’t read anything that indicates that Manny might have had a number carved on him anywhere. The report mentions other scars, “scar tissue on
right shoulder and left thigh, consistent with previous lacerations,” but nothing about a scar on his chest at all. The picture I saw in the darkroom must not have been him.

I close the file, defeated. I feel like I’ve hit another dead end, and I’m running out of time. If I don’t find out who killed Manny and Rachel before Eduardo does, he’ll do something stupid and someone else is going to get hurt. I’m not sure what to do about him. Every time I think I’ve figured him out, something sets him off, he gets mad, and he runs.

I turn toward the stairs that stopped me before. The thought of going up there now is almost as terrifying as it was that night, but it’s the only place left for me to look.

The stairs creak under my weight, and my feet leave prints in the dust. It doesn’t look like Eduardo has ventured up here at all. At the top of the stairs is a long hall. There are two closed doors on my right. Light is streaming in through an open doorway at the end of the hall. I head there.

The room is empty except for a shattered mirror on one side of the room and bits of broken glass all over the floor. The floor is covered with a layer of dust, but in the far corner there are brown streaks on the wall and on the floor. This is where Manny died. I stand in the doorway and imagine Rachel coming up the stairs, thinking she was going to meet him here, instead finding him cut and bleeding. She must have gone to him, tried to help, and gotten covered in his blood. When she realized he was dead, she ran away, cutting her foot on pieces of glass.

I look around me at the walls covered in graffiti and imagine the scene she walked into. I would have been terrified too,
terrified enough not to tell anyone, not the police, and not even my best friend.

I walk over to the Cempoalli symbols painted on the wall and study them, thinking about what Eduardo found downstairs. There aren’t any that are reversed, but there are a couple of places that look like someone started to paint something and then covered over it, like he made a mistake.

I walk to the window. Half the glass is missing and another tattered black curtain hangs beside it. I look out across the yard. From here, I can see Rachel’s front porch and her covered bedroom window. Someone standing where I am now could have seen everything that happened at Rachel’s house. If the curtains were open, he could see into her bedroom.

I lean forward and something catches my attention. Wedged into a crack in the windowsill is something yellow. I slip my fingers around it and work it out. I hold it up to the light and realize that it’s a film canister, like the one Skyler used the other night.

There’s one word written on the side in red pen.

“Cuts.”

Chapter 30

“Hey, Jaycee, what are you doing here?” Eric smiles as he leans out of the window to his sheriff’s truck.

“Heading home from Araceli’s house,” I say casually.

He opens the door. “I’m not technically supposed to be giving anyone a ride in this car, but it’s raining and it occurred to me that I never got the chance to talk to you about where you were the night your friend was murdered. We could call it ‘official police business’ and then I could give you a ride home.”

“That’s okay …,” I start.

Eric’s grin fades. “I insist.” Something about the way he says it reminds me of Evan at Araceli’s today, like maybe I don’t have a choice. He gets out of the car, walks around to the backseat, and opens the door for me. “I’d let you ride up front, but I get in trouble for having young girls in the front seat with me.” His grin is back, but there’s something behind it. I try to shake off the urge to run, because I’m pretty sure he can arrest me for running away. I climb inside. Just before he shuts
the door behind me I see something on his hand, a faded scar that looks like the number 18.

“So,” he says, “where were you the night Rachel was killed?”

I try to stay casual. “You heard what I said at your office. I was at Evan’s party, and then I was with Skyler.”

He looks in the rearview mirror. “About how long were you with Mr. Cross?”

“A couple of hours; then he took me back to Claire’s house and I snuck back in.”

His expression in the rearview mirror looks confused, like something I said didn’t make sense. “What time did Skyler drop you off?”

“One forty-five.”

“Are you sure?” He says it like that’s important.

“Positive.” I know almost the exact time Skyler kissed me because I turned my phone back on as soon as I got back into Claire’s room. I was hoping he’d text me. Instead, I got the text from Rachel.

Sheriff Cross is quiet. I wait for more questions, but they don’t come. Finally he looks back at me in the mirror, his face serious. “The other reason I wanted to give you a ride was to warn you. That kid you went running with yesterday is dangerous.”

“How did you know—”

“It’s my job to keep the people in this town safe. If that means keeping an eye on a known criminal, then that’s what I do.”

“A known criminal? Eduardo?”

Sheriff Cross is nodding. “I don’t know if you are aware of the circumstances that brought him and Manuel Romero here, but they weren’t good. I shouldn’t tell you this, because it’s part of an ongoing investigation, but I think you need to know, for your own protection. They were both part of a very dangerous gang in Los Angeles.” He keeps emphasizing the word “dangerous.” “Our office has been working closely with a gang task force in California, keeping tabs on them. I actually spoke to Manuel several times. He was cooperative, willing to ID members of his gang who were involved in a horrific murder. In exchange, we were giving him protection and immunity.

“But your friend Eduardo didn’t want anything to do with it. He wouldn’t talk to us, and he was pretty upset with Manuel for talking to the police. Said he was betraying his people or something like that.”

It’s all stuff I knew before, except the part about Eduardo not cooperating, but it sounds like him.

“But you didn’t do a very good job of protecting Manny,” I dare to challenge him. “Considering he’s dead.”

Sheriff Cross’s eyebrows knit together in irritation. “We did what we could. We believe that Manuel was killed by someone close to him, someone who he trusted.” He catches my eye in the rearview mirror. “Someone like Eduardo.”

I see a huge gaping flaw in his story. “If Eduardo killed Manny, why would he stay? Why not just go back to his gang in L.A.?”

Sheriff Cross’s nostrils flair, but something like a grin appears again. He delivers his death blow. “Because he hadn’t
finished the job.” He looks up to see the effect that has on me. “I assume you know about the relationship between Manny and Rachel?” I nod. “We think that Manuel told Rachel everything that was going on, everything he knew, everything he saw. That she wrote it down in some kind of journal. Eduardo spent enough time with Rachel to find out what she knew, and then he killed her too.” He’s not even looking at the road now, just at me, emphasizing everything he says with the seriousness in his face. “He made it look like a drive-by shooting, but it wasn’t. The bullet that killed Rachel was fired at close range. She knew whoever killed her, knew him enough to let him in her bedroom, and Eduardo doesn’t have an alibi for the night Rachel died.”

All of that sinks in. What if the sheriff is right? What if Eduardo killed Manny and Rachel, but then again, “Why is he still here?”

Sheriff Cross looks up. “Maybe he thinks there are still loose ends to tie up.”

Everything inside of me drains out. I told Eduardo that I was there the night Manny died. He asked me to help him find Rachel’s journal.

Were the guys I heard talking by the fireplace members of Manny and Eduardo’s gang? Are they trying to find out what I know, what Rachel might have written down? And after they do …

“If you’re so sure it was him, why haven’t you arrested him yet?” My voice comes out small and weak.

“He’s smart. He won’t let himself get caught doing
something illegal.” Sheriff Cross’s eyes glitter at me in the rearview mirror. “But if you know something that we could get him on, then maybe we could hold on to him until we had more.”

I keep it small. “He’s living in the old house. Trespassing.”

Eric smiles. “That might help, but I’m not sure it’s enough. I know you think he’s your friend, but that’s just how he works. He’s dangerous, Jaycee. He betrayed Rachel and Manuel. We have to get him off the streets before someone else gets hurt. We need your help.”

I take a breath, thinking about the gun, and how Eduardo looked when he left. The words rush out. “He has a gun, one that he stole from someone’s house, I don’t know whose.” I close my eyes, praying that I’ve done the right thing.

“Good girl, Jaycee,” Sheriff Cross says. He opens his door, and I realize that he’s stopped in front of Claire’s house.

“What are we doing here?” I ask.

“I heard your dad’s case was held over again in Spokane. He won’t be coming home tonight. With everything you told me, I don’t think you should be alone.” He comes around and opens the door for me. As I get out, something wedged under the backseat catches my eye, a baseball cap with the words
LAKE RIDGE HIGH STATE CHAMPS
.

The same hat I saw in the light of the fire on the playground.

Chapter 31

“Where have you been, young lady?” Claire smirks at me when she opens the door. “And why did the sheriff drop you off? You trying to add to your Cross collection?”

I push past her without answering. I need to think about what I just did, and what I just heard. I need to—I stop when I see Skyler sitting on the couch.

“Oh, did I forget to mention you have a visitor?” Claire says.

Skyler stands up and crosses the room to me. He looks scared and confused. “Why were you riding in Eric’s cruiser?”

I want to lean into his arms and sob out the whole story, but I can’t in front of Claire. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t answer your phone, so I came looking for you,” Skyler says. “I’m worried about you, Jaycee. I think you should—”

“Don’t say it, don’t—” I’ve been through too much today to listen to one more person tell me I’m doing something stupid. Then I look at his face and realize he has his own issues. His lip is split and puffy and there’s a bruise on his chin. I breathe in, shocked. “What happened to you?”

“Just a dumb fight.” He looks toward Claire, watching us as if she were watching a movie play out in her living room. I realize Skyler probably doesn’t want to talk about it in front of her.

“Here, let me help you get cleaned up.” I walk him into the bathroom, shut the door behind us, and lock it. Then I turn on the sink. “It was your dad, wasn’t it?”

He still won’t look at me. I dampen a washcloth and sponge at the blood on his bottom lip. “And it isn’t the first time.”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head.

I put my arms around him and lean my forehead against his. “Oh, Skyler.” He closes his eyes, and we breathe together. My heart breaks for him. Why didn’t I see it before?

The bathroom door rattles. “Claire,” I yell. “Give us a minute.”

“Jaycee, what’s going on in there?” It’s Claire’s mom.

“Nothing. I just … need some privacy.”

The door rattles again. “Is someone in there with you? Claire, who went into the bathroom with Jaycee?”

I hear voices murmuring outside. I wonder if Claire will cover for me, try to get her mom away from the door or something. It surprises me how little I care. The only thing that matters right now is Skyler. It’s not even that his face looks that bad. It’s his expression. He just looks destroyed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you into trouble,” he says.

I gesture to the door. “I don’t care about any of that. I only care about you.”

He turns away from me, and his lips twist in the kind of grimace that means he’s fighting back tears. “You wouldn’t. Not if you knew who I really am. I’m nothing but a major
screwup. I can’t do anything right—not football, not farming; I can’t even keep you safe.” He slams his fist into the bathroom counter, so hard that it makes me jump back.

“Jaycee, come out of there!” Claire’s mother yells through the door.

I don’t answer her. Instead I wrap my arms around Skyler’s waist and lean my head on his shoulder. “This is not your fault. None of this is your fault. You just have a jerk for a dad. You’re smart and sweet and—”

He twists around and stops me with a kiss. His lips are pressed so hard against mine that I’m sure I’m hurting his mouth. He wraps me in his arms. “I love you, Jaycee. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”