CHAPTER NINETEEN

I wake up in the morning to a text from Ashley saying that my dad decided to take an overtime shift, so Mrs. Lao is coming to “keep an eye on things” while Ashley’s at the café. I don’t have the energy to be annoyed that I’m seventeen and have a babysitter for the day. There’s something ominous lurking under the text, almost as if Ashley’s trying to tell me that I need to be watched.

I don’t bother getting out of bed at all. It feels nice. Maybe I’ll do this every day. The thought of school on Monday, of the homework I meant to do last weekend and never got around to, makes me feel ill. When Mrs. Lao comes over at nine and tries to make me get up, I tell her I have cramps.

“I have licorice root at my house,” she says. “I’ll get it and make you tea.”

“No, thanks,” I say. “You really don’t have to be here. I can watch Lauren.”

“Not leaving girls alone.” Mrs. Lao shakes her head. I don’t have the heart to point out that I’m twice her size. I at least convince her the tea isn’t necessary, but she refuses to leave, so I guess we both lose.

I force myself out of bed. Pop my head into the den. Lauren is curled on her side, Jerome at her feet. He picks up his head to growl at me. I hiss at him to shut up and he freezes, lets out a huff of air, and rests his head back on Lauren’s bare foot. She’s passed out. In the living room, Mrs. Lao has a morning talk show blasting, a perky woman extolling the virtues of a ten-speed blender.

There’s a voice in my ear.

“Kacey?” Mrs. Lao.

A ragged, annoyed sigh of relief slips out of me. She’s behind me, snuck up on me. She looks me up and down. “Jade is here.”

Shit. No doubt here to rip me a new one for ignoring all of her calls and texts. “Where is she?”

“I made her stay outside,” Mrs. Lao says. I brush past her and make my way downstairs and to the mudroom. Pull my boots on. From the window, I see Jade’s dad’s truck idling at the curb, her behind the wheel.

My bones ache with distrust. All I want to do is get rid of Jade as quickly as possible. When she sees me coming down the driveway, she reaches over and opens the passenger door.

I climb in, jaw set. The leather seat is freezing beneath my pajama pants.

Jade still hasn’t done her eyeliner. I wonder if it’s a mourning ritual, and she won’t put it on again until Bailey is home, one way or another. She looks me in the eye with disgust. “Are you trying to get yourself killed or arrested?”

“Why are you here, Jade?” The acid in my voice makes Jade suck in her cheeks.

“What’s your problem?” she asks.

“That detective made me come in again for questioning yesterday. Someone told him that I was supposed to go to the party, but that Bailey ditched me. That I was upset.”

Jade’s eyebrows furrow. “Jesus, Kace. I had to. That guy—he’s relentless. I would have admitted to having a bag of coke in my pocket if it got me out of that room.”

I don’t say anything. I can’t bring myself to tell her that Burke knows we were in the barn Friday night now too.

“Anyway, what does it matter?” Jade asks. “You didn’t have anything to do with this.”

I’m quiet. Jade leans over, forces me to look at her. “Kacey.”

“Burke seems to think I did. Even Cliff freaking Grosso thinks I was involved.”

Jade stares at me. “Why did you even go to his house?”

“I wasn’t thinking. I thought I’d find something. I don’t know.” I’m on the verge of tears. I just want someone to believe that it wasn’t me.

I swallow to clear my throat. “Did you know that Bailey was at Cliff’s house last week?”

Jade sits up straighter. “What?”

“Someone saw her car outside,” I say.

“And how many blue Civics are there in Broken Falls? It could have been someone else.”

“Why are you so desperate to believe that Bailey told you everything she did?”

Jade’s cheeks turn ruddy. “Why are you doing this? She could be dead. Your priorities are a little screwed up right now.”

My knee is jiggling. She’s right, but the nagging voice in my head says Bailey might be dead because of the things she didn’t tell us.

“She didn’t like me,” I finally say.

“And who told you that? Bridget?” Jade plops back in her seat. “That’s ridiculous. Bailey was the one who asked you to hang out.”

To get to my brother.

I let out a frosty breath. “Did you know she was into Andrew?” I ask.

Jade frowns. “Of course I did.”

“How come you guys never said anything?”

“Honestly?” Jade peers at me. “She told me not to.”

“Why? I wasn’t going to blab to him or anything.”

“Don’t sound all insulted.” Jade lowers her mirror to check her eyeliner. Realizes it’s not there. A sigh bubbles between her lips. “She never told anyone how she felt about him. Not even me. I just…figured it out.”

“But why all the secrecy? It’s not like Andrew would be mean about it. Maybe he even liked her back.”

Jade tilts her head to look at me. “Kace, come on. You know he saw her like she was still the kid from his preschool class.”

“I just don’t get why she was so intense about hiding it,” I say.

“Because she was intense about anything that could possibly hurt her,” Jade says. “If she found out for sure that Andrew wasn’t into her, it would destroy her.”

For some reason, I think about the tire tracks by Andrew’s car Sunday morning. The lie about picking up his prescription. A clump of snow falls from a branch overhead and lands on Jade’s windshield, jolting me in my seat.

Jade’s the one to finally speak again. “Did you tell Andrew what we did in the barn?”

“No. Why?”

“Because whoever made that blood streak—Burke says they were smart. It distracted the police for a couple days. Kept the search in Broken Falls when Bailey’s obviously not here.”

My stomach sours. “What are you saying?”

“The cops were asking a lot of questions about him.” Jade looks out the window. “Wanted to know if he and Bailey were close.”

I do a one-eighty in my seat so I’m facing her. “Jade. You can’t possibly think Andrew did this. They weren’t close—he would have no reason to want her dead.”

Jade’s quiet for a beat, then says, “I saw the gas station picture. Bailey was headed this way that night.”

“She could have been headed for the barn.”

“Will you stop with the stupid barn? It was just a distraction, they’re saying. Just like leaving the phone on Cliff’s property so the police would think he was involved.” Jade eyes me. “Kind of sounds like something someone smart would do, doesn’t it?”

Tears sting my eyes. “He’s my brother. You’re not going to convince me he had something to do with this.”

Jade looks at me with pity. “He’s not even your real brother.”

I’m already grasping the door handle. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

I sound pathetic, like a child, and I’m crying like one by the time I’m halfway up the driveway.

“Kacey,” Jade calls out the window. “If you’re covering for him, I’ll never forgive you.”

And then she peels away, and I’m alone.

In the living room, Mrs. Lao has returned to her talk show. I sneak back into the den, past Lauren, still curled up with Jerome.

The family computer is in here. I open the top drawer, saying a silent prayer of thanks for Ashley’s affinity for organization. There is a sheet of paper with passwords for all of the family accounts—online banking, the Netflix subscription. Everything is here.

Why do the police seem to think Andrew knows something? He and Bailey were friends as kids, but they barely talked anymore. And Ellie Knepper wasn’t even interested in Andrew that first day she came to talk to me at the house.

If Burke is interested now, he must have a new reason.

Something like those phone records he was holding Friday.

With shaking hands, I type in the web address for our cell phone provider and input the username and password when prompted. It’s all numbers—a combination of Andrew’s and Lauren’s birthdays.

I click through to Andrew’s number, pulling up his log of recent calls. There aren’t many outgoing ones; Andrew isn’t a big phone talker. He’s a face-to-face person.

I run a finger down the screen, stopping when I see the first three digits of Bailey’s phone number.

Andrew called her twice, at 11:15 p.m., the night she disappeared.