Bitter Falls (Stillhouse Lake #4)(53)

I want to argue Lanny’s innocence, but fact is, I wasn’t there. Gwen and I entered this particular story after most of it happened, and though I believe the kid, I can’t know what happened. He’s right. Having one of the Belldenes, of all people, turn themselves in? That’s a pretty strong statement.

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll talk to her.” I make sure not to glance back at Lanny, though I’m tempted. This can all wait until we’re home. In the rearview mirror I can see she’s still lying down, eyes shut. I can hear the tinny rattle of headphones from here. “Any other good news?”

“Well, I booked the pool for tomorrow like we agreed,” he says.

“Javi—okay, first of all, I never said I’d do it . . .”

“You lost the bet, man. You owe me. You put on the gear and get in the water. Hey, if you’d won, you’d have definitely taken me up in one of those prop planes and barrel-rolled me until I puked.”

“I would,” I admit. “But given the circumstances with Lanny . . . maybe I’d better just go for cleaning the toilets. Option B.”

“You ever seen what these toilets look like? I get hill people and truckers in here. None of them have good aim off the range. But sure. Your choice.”

He’s trying hard to lighten the mood, even though the Lanny thing is serious. I appreciate that. “I will personally scrub that porcelain until it shines. You can’t make me a marine no matter how hard you try.”

Javier sounds like he’s suppressing a laugh when he replies. “Okay, okay, I know. Hey, I’ll be kind. I won’t even make you use a toothbrush to clean the place.”

“Better than boot camp.”

He lets a beat go by, and when he comes back, he’s serious. “You take care out there, my friend. And remember: you got people who care.”

“I know,” I tell him. “So do you. In case you were wondering.”

“I’m not the one in trouble. When I am, you’re my first call. Well, second. After Kez.”

“Fair enough.”

We sign off, and despite the worries, I do feel better. We aren’t hunted and alone.

Well, not alone anyway.

The road turns familiar. Norton’s the same sleepy place it always is, and then we’re past it on the road out to the lake. I glance over at the beach at Killing Rock as we pass it; someone’s made an effort to clean it up while we were gone. No debris that I can spot, though there’s a torn flutter of police tape still tied to a tree. It just reminds me that our troubles aren’t over.

And I’m going to have to have a serious conversation with Lanny, as soon as we’re inside.

As we pull to a stop in the driveway, my instincts wake up. I don’t even know why until I fix my gaze on Lanny’s bedroom window.

It’s open about three inches, and a little flutter of sheer curtain is ruffling.

Lanny’s yawning, and she and Connor are already bickering about who’s going to get the shower first when I say, “Quiet.”

I get their instant and baffled attention. “Uh, sorry?” Lanny says. “Did you just tell us to shut up—”

“Why is your window open?”

I’m looking at her in the rearview mirror, and I see the exact second guilt hits her. She knows what I’m talking about, but she says, “I don’t know! Maybe somebody broke in?”

“Without setting the alarm off.”

She doesn’t answer that. I’ve already figured it out: she cut her window out of the alarm system. That’s how she got out the other night, and I should have realized that and fixed it before we left. Dammit. We were too distracted. And too worried about her.

But I can see by her expression that sneaking out isn’t the whole story. I think about Javier’s call, the fact that she was with someone at the party. And I say, “Who’s inside our house, Lanny?”

“I don’t know!”

“Yes, you do,” Connor says. “It’s probably Vee.”

“Shut up, you traitor!” Lanny snaps.

He shrugs. “Your fault,” he replies, and turns to me. “Vee’s been coming to the house.”

“Vee Crockett,” I say. Jesus, Vee is one messed-up kid. I care about her, but . . . there’s no denying how much baggage she carries. She had problems even before her mom’s death, and I can’t imagine that made things better. I don’t want Lanny caught up in her drama. “You didn’t tell your mom about this either?”

She just shakes her head.

Dammit. I’m realizing this explains a lot. “Vee’s the reason you went to the party at Killing Rock.” It was well out of character for Lanny to do that; Vee instigating the whole thing makes perfect sense.

No answer that time, but I’m sure I’m right. I’m not that old. I remember why I sneaked out to parties at that age, and it wasn’t just to hang out with my buddies. It was usually to impress girls.

I keep going. “Lanny, you outright lied to the cops about being alone at the party. And to us. Was she up on that rock with you too?”

“Vee didn’t do anything!”

“Oh? And were you with her the whole time at the party?”

She doesn’t say anything to that, which is an answer in itself. Vee tearing through a party, with Lanny chasing after. It’s incredibly worrying that Lanny’s covering up for her, when it’s Lanny’s ass on the line now.