The Body Finder Page 11

  But for now, at least, he wasn’t the person she was searching for.

  Violet had to look away first, closing her eyes until he’d passed her by completely.

  “Was that who you sensed?” Jay asked.

  Violet could only nod, waiting until the queasiness, and the lingering flavor of the boy’s particular brand of evil, faded away.

  Jay didn’t ask her if she was ready to go or not; he just put his arm around her. There was nothing gentle or reassuring about the contact, it was meant more to guide than to comfort her, as he led her out of the mall to the car.

  They drove home without speaking—Jay was too angry, and Violet too exhausted from her brush with malevolence. She was still reeling from the intensity of the sensations she’d experienced from the hate-filled boy.

  She knew she couldn’t do that again, just go randomly looking for a killer in their midst. It had been too hard on her today. She was used to trying to buffer herself from those kinds of feelings; she had practiced building up walls to shield herself from experiencing that kind of intensity. Especially when she wasn’t even sure exactly what she was looking for. She didn’t think she could take much more of that.

  If she was going to try again, she was going to need a better game plan, she decided. And this time it was going to require some serious preparation.

  CHAPTER 12

  THE ATMOSPHERE AT SCHOOL WAS MUCH MORE somber than it had been after the previous disappearances. Violet suspected that it was because Hailey McDonald was not a casual acquaintance met in passing at a party or social event. To the vast majority of the student body, Hailey McDonald was someone they knew.

  Hailey was the sister of a fellow student, and her family was well known by many of the kids at White River High. Her absence in the community was almost palpable, and it was being taken much more personally than the deaths of the other girls had been.

  The other thing that was obvious at school on Monday morning was the conspicuous increase in security. And it wasn’t just the unarmed school security guards that patrolled the campus maintaining order; there was now also a visible police presence, with at least two uniformed officers standing guard around the hallways outside of the classrooms.

  One of the officers carried several imprints on him, which Violet just assumed were occupational hazards. Fortunately, none of them were particularly offensive to her, and she could easily ignore them whenever he was nearby.

  The grief counselors were back as well, which struck Violet as a little premature, since there was no evidence—not yet, at least—suggesting that Hailey McDonald wouldn’t be found and brought home unharmed.

  The counselors made themselves available to those students who felt the need to unburden their fears and frustrations in a safe environment. But many of the kids at school also found them to be a convenient excuse to ditch class, since passes to see the counselors were being handed out like candy.

  Violet had opted to keep her concerns to herself rather than visiting the counselors. And since Jay still wasn’t speaking to her, she really had no one to confide in.

  He had dropped her off on Sunday evening, after their disastrous day at the mall, and had waited in the driveway just long enough to make sure she’d gotten safely inside. When Violet tried to call him later that night, he hadn’t even bothered answering the phone, and he didn’t respond to her e-mails. She didn’t press the matter. She knew he was mad, and just needed some time to get over it.

  Her parents, however, surprised her when she’d arrived home by giving her a brand-new cell phone of her own.

  Violet had been begging them for a phone since she was fourteen years old, citing the names of all the other kids her age who had already gotten one. Her parents had always refused, ignoring her Christmas and birthday requests for the phone and stating that there was no “good reason” for her to have one.

  Apparently they’d changed their minds.

  Violet should have been ecstatic with the cell phone, but somehow it didn’t hold the same appeal it once had. Now it felt more like a necessary tool for survival than the new toy she’d always hoped for. She’d shoved it away in her purse…right next to her can of pepper spray.

  She made her way through her class schedule on Monday, trying to ignore the fact that Jay, who sat next to her in several of her classes, was still giving her the silent treatment. He sat impassively, staring forward and doing a good job of at least pretending to pay attention to the teachers, in an effort to avoid mistakenly making eye contact with Violet. She knew he was still furious with her.

  She really didn’t mind that he was so upset since she felt as though she deserved it, at least to some extent. She’d acted like an idiot yesterday, she realized, recalling that she’d basically planned to confront a killer in a public restroom at the mall. So instead of letting it get to her, she pretended not to notice his intentional slights.

  But something else happened Monday that caught Violet off guard.

  After PE, her first-period class, she was surprised to find Grady waiting for her outside of the locker rooms. He walked with Violet to her second-period class. They made casual small talk, which was easy with Grady since they’d been friends for so long. And she liked that he didn’t seem to be pushing her, despite the fact that they were still planning to go to the dance together, to be anything more than that. Violet actually found herself enjoying his company and was glad that he’d decided to walk with her.

  Jay didn’t look up as he passed them on his way into class, but Violet was sure that he hadn’t been clenching his fists until he’d spotted her and Grady together.

  Still, considering that they were “just friends,” Violet was even more surprised when Grady was waiting for her, again, after each of her next two classes.

  She’d planned on having lunch at her usual table, with the same friends she and Jay sat with almost every day. Grady usually sat at another table with a bunch of his jock friends, but today it was like he somehow sensed that Violet was going to be alone and he’d decided to tag along with her. Violet didn’t complain.

  She carried her lunch tray to the table where Claire and Jules were already sitting. Grady sat down next to Violet…in the spot where Jay normally sat.

  Jay’s absence was glaringly obvious.

  Violet glanced as discreetly as she could around the cafeteria, wondering who Jay had decided to spend his lunch hour with, but he was nowhere to be seen. She was a little irritated with herself for the twinge of disappointment she felt at not seeing him, even from a distance.

  “Hi, Grady,” Violet heard Chelsea say knowingly as she joined the group, squeezing in between Claire and Jules. Violet knew that the tone was meant more for her benefit than for Grady’s.

  “Hey,” Grady said, nodding at the other girls at the table.

  There were a few moments of awkward silence, made even more awkward by Chelsea’s not-so-subtle quizzical glances in Violet’s direction. Chelsea was about as understated as a jackhammer. Ultimately, though, it was Claire who made things worse when she asked where Jay was today.

  Violet really didn’t want to tell them that Jay was mad at her, and it wasn’t like she could explain their fight to them anyway, so she made up some lame excuse about Jay needing to stay after class to get some work done. She had no idea if Jay would corroborate her stupid lie if he was asked, and for now she really didn’t care…as long as it kept anyone else from mentioning his absence from lunch again.

  When Andrew Lauthner, a lunch-table regular and longtime Chelsea admirer, joined them, Grady thankfully turned his attention to the other boy. Since they started talking about cars, a subject about which Violet knew absolutely nothing, she didn’t feel too bad about ignoring their conversation…and the two of them.

  Chelsea flashed Violet another meaningful look, telling her that she wasn’t buying the Jay’s-got-work-to-do story. And Violet played dumb, pretending she hadn’t noticed Chelsea’s perceptive looks.

  When the bell fina
lly rang, Violet was glad that Grady was still too involved in his conversation with Andrew to walk her to her next class. Unfortunately Chelsea’s curiosity hadn’t diminished throughout the meal, and she jumped up to follow Violet out of the cafeteria.

  They walked for almost a full sixty seconds before Chelsea actually said anything, even though Violet knew, without a doubt, that it was coming.

  “I like new-Jay,” Chelsea finally announced, as though she was making a simple observation rather than trying to pry information out of her friend.

  “Shut up.” Violet groaned, unable to completely hide her smile at Chelsea’s absurd comment. Still, she didn’t feel inclined to share her problems with Chelsea.

  “Don’t get me wrong, Vi. I still like old-Jay better; I’m just saying that new-Jay’s not so bad. Plus, at least he had the balls to ask you to the dance. That’s something that old-Jay couldn’t seem to manage.”

  “He’s not new-Jay,” Violet insisted, stopping at her locker to grab her notebook. “Jay’s just pissed off at me right now. He’ll get over it. Besides, I already told you that we’re just friends.”

  “Which one? New-Jay or old-Jay?”

  Violet rolled her eyes as she slammed the metal door shut. “Both.” She turned on her heel and left Chelsea standing alone by the row of lockers. And then she called back over her shoulder. “Besides…there is no new-Jay.”

  It took Violet only a moment to register the fact that Jay was standing right there in the hallway, just a few feet away from her and within earshot of her entire conversation with Chelsea, although she couldn’t be sure how long he’d been standing there. Still, she was mortified that he’d caught her talking about him at all.

  She ignored the blazing look he flashed in her direction as she hurried past him, escaping to her next class…and trying to ignore the fact that he would be sitting right next to her.

  The next two days went by with Jay giving her the silent treatment and Grady paying her extra attention. It was like some bizarre alternate universe, where up meant down and yes meant no.

  Violet didn’t mind Jay avoiding her, because, for the time being, it gave her time to work on the new plan she’d come up with, one that she knew he would never help her with. But the extra attention from Grady was another story altogether. He was starting to get on her nerves, following her around like some hyperactive puppy that was always underfoot. And it always seemed that he was one step ahead of her…reaching her classrooms before she could slip past him and disappear into the crowded hallways, waiting for her at her usual table in the cafeteria, and even meeting her at her car after school so he could have just a few more minutes with her.

  It was starting to become obvious that Grady wasn’t completely interested in being just another one of Violet’s friends. She was sure now that he wanted more, and she blamed Jay’s absence for Grady’s increased bravado in searching her out during school hours. She was afraid that if Jay didn’t start talking to her again soon, Grady might decide that the school day wasn’t enough and start making after-school visits to her house. As it was, he’d started calling her all the time. She wasn’t sure how many messages her voice mail could hold.

  Recently, the very thought of going to the dance with Grady made Violet’s skin itch, as if she might be breaking out in hives—or more likely a bad case of second thoughts.

  In an effort to ignore Grady’s enthusiastic interest, Violet turned her own attention to the details of her new plan. The idea had first occurred to her during the unusually quiet ride home from the mall with Jay. She knew for certain that just wandering through public places in search of echoes was a mistake. There were too many variables involved, too many people who had killed without malice, either by occupation or by sport. She realized then that she was going to have to narrow her search somehow.

  She already knew she would recognize the imprint left behind by the girl at the lake. She had seen it for herself, and she knew that whoever he was, he would be carrying that radiantly oil-like film around him, the same way the girl in the water had. But that was a visual echo, which meant it would be useful only if Violet found herself face-to-face with the killer. It would be nearly impossible to track from any distance.

  She needed more information. And there was only one way to get it.

  She was going to have to figure out just what echo the other girl, Brooke Johnson, had left behind. And, in turn, had left on the killer.

  For someone like Violet, someone who could sense the energy remnants of murder, a graveyard was a difficult place to go. So far, at least as far as she knew anyway, burying a body seemed to bring a sense of peace, releasing its echo into something less…intense. But her experience was limited, experimental at best, and she’d always been afraid that maybe her theories were wrong.

  So Violet generally tried to avoid places where the chances of encountering echoes would be the greatest—graveyards, hospitals with morgues, funeral homes—on the off chance that she might sense something there that was more than she could bear. Her parents had shielded her from that possibility, even going so far as to leave her at home when they went to her grandmother’s burial. And that had been just three years ago.

  But now, with Hailey McDonald still out there somewhere, Violet felt a sense of responsibility that far outweighed any fear—real or imagined—of her own potential sensory discomforts. She might just be the only person who could find this guy, and she wasn’t about to ignore that possibility.

  If she was going to find out what Brooke’s echo was, she would have to go to the cemetery where Brooke was buried.

  The concept was simple enough, but actually pulling it off was another thing altogether. Her parents practically had her on maximum-security lockdown. She felt like she was doing hard time. And with the absence of Jay as her guardian and protector, they didn’t seem to be inclined to let Violet out of their sight for more than five minutes at a time.

  Jay would have been the perfect accomplice, except for the annoying fact that he refused to speak to her. That, and after her little stunt at the mall, there was no way she was going to convince him to help her again. She was more afraid that if he knew what she was still planning to do, he would try to stop her…even if it meant ratting her out to her parents.

  Violet had gone around and around with ideas of how she could sneak away for an afternoon, discarding each one in turn as she realized that if she got caught in a lie—even one of omission—she would probably never see the light of day again.

  Okay, maybe a little dramatic, but not completely implausible.

  When the answer finally came to her, she felt a little dense for not thinking of it sooner. It was the perfect excuse, and no one, not even her parents, would know the truth. Even her companion would be oblivious to his role in her deceit. It was foolproof.

  She dialed Grady from her brand-new cell phone, the first useful purpose it had served since she’d gotten it.

  He answered his phone on the first ring, his voice enthusiastic. Violet cringed a little. After they exchanged some small talk, she plunged right into her plan.

  She laid out her words carefully, following the script she’d prepared in her head before placing the call.

  “Anyway, I was calling because with everything that’s been going on, I haven’t even had a chance to visit Brooke’s grave yet, and I feel terrible about it,” Violet explained as sincerely as she could.

  “Man, I didn’t even know you guys were friends.”

  “Yeah. We played softball and soccer together when we were younger, and even though we didn’t see each other much, I was still devastated when I heard…you know…” She tried to sound broken up, like she couldn’t finish her sentence. She wished she were one of those girls who could cry on command, just for dramatic effect. “Do you think…would you mind…taking me? So I don’t have to go alone…?” Her voice trailed off, and she waited for his answer.

  She nailed it perfectly, from form to execution. And even with the high deg
ree of difficulty, she had to give herself a perfect 10 for her performance. Jay would have seen right through it, but Grady was clueless.

  “When do you want to go?” he asked.

  “Can you be here in an hour?”

  She probably could have told him to be there in two minutes, and he would have been there in one.

  When Violet hung up, she was surprised that she didn’t feel even the slightest hint of guilt over her deceit, and she wondered if she would have felt differently if it had been Jay she’d lied to.

  The next part of her plan was a little trickier. She had to convince her parents to let her go.

  Her dad was still at work, but her mom was in her studio. Violet wandered across the lawn to the small shed that had been converted into an art studio, and when she pushed the door open she was assaulted by the familiar linen-y scent of canvas and the more vaporous fumes of paint thinner.

  Her mom smiled in greeting as she was cleaning brushes in an old Mason jar filled with the caustic cleaners. “What’s up, Vi?”

  Violet hesitated, and her first real pang of guilt battered at her conscience. But there was no turning back now, she decided, and she forged ahead anyway. “Grady Spencer called and asked if I could go to the cemetery with him.”

  Her mom’s eyebrows rose at the unusual request, and she stopped stirring the brushes, wiping her hands on her paint-smeared smock. She seemed concerned, and Violet knew why. This wasn’t something Violet would normally ask.

  Violet plunged into her rehearsed explanation. “I guess he was friends with the girl that was killed, the one from Bonney Lake. He wants to take flowers to her grave but he doesn’t want to go alone.” She could scarcely believe she’d said that without flinching. “I didn’t think it would be a big deal, especially since he’ll be with me, so I told him I would.” She forced herself to appear as relaxed as she could manage at the moment, while her heart hammered nervously against her rib cage. “It’s okay, isn’t it?”