The Vanishing Stair (Truly Devious #2)(63)

Outside, the mountain morning slapped her in the face in the form of the rain and wet wind. It wasn’t pouring, but it was steady and cold. The sky was colorless, and even the brightness of the trees was dimmed. The day subtracted from life. The rain helped flatten her sticking-up hair and slicked her coat. Stevie marched on away from the art barn. As she approached the Great House and the green, there were a few police cars and vans, but the presence was subdued.

“Hey,” someone said.

Stevie turned to see Maris coming up behind her on the path. She was dressed in a massive shaggy black coat with black tights and red boots, and was huddled under a large umbrella that was black on the top and had a print of a blue sky and clouds underneath. Her red lipstick was the most vivid thing in miles.

Stevie stopped and waited for her, even as the rain intensified. When Maris reached her, she tipped her umbrella at Stevie in an attempt to be helpful, but Stevie only got the edge, which made it worse.

“How are you?” Maris said.

Stevie shrugged.

“Holy shit, this is horrible,” Maris said, producing a vape pen from the depths of her shaggy coat. “I can’t believe . . . well . . . I guess I can.”

That summed up the experience pretty well. You can’t believe until you can. Then it just is.

Stevie didn’t want to walk with Maris, really. They had never exactly bonded. But to be fair, Maris was the only person who seemed genuinely, properly hurt by Hayes’s death. They had not been a couple long (not that they had even been much of a couple), but she had cared about Hayes. Maris had been friendly with Ellie as well; they were both art people. Maris deserved some sympathy.

“I haven’t talked to you much since you got back,” Maris said. “And now . . . I don’t know. Maybe the whole place will close down? But they can’t let that happen, right? Do you know what happened? How she got down there?”

Stevie shook her head.

“I guess she and Hayes tunneled a lot,” Maris went on. “They seemed to have a lot of secrets together. Do you . . . Did you really think Ellie did it? Killed Hayes? I mean, honestly? I thought you were wrong. But now . . .”

That’s how it should have been. Stevie’s idea must have looked farfetched at first, until Ellie ran and hid in a tunnel for so long that she ended up dying in it. But as Stevie turned and looked in the direction of the Great House, which was now a looming bulk on a dark day, her conviction was starting to evaporate. Maybe it was David’s belief in Ellie. Or maybe it was guilt.

Something was crooked in the landscape. She couldn’t see what it was, but the edges did not line up correctly.

Maris was still waiting for an answer.

“I just know about the script,” Stevie said. “That she wrote The End of It All. That she took his computer.”

Maris puffed for a moment and blew out a trail of smoke.

“If she killed Hayes and died down there,” she said, “good.”

That seemed a bit harsh. Actually, that seemed a lot harsh. But there was a solidity to it.

Stevie’s phone started ringing. She pulled it out. The number came up as unknown, which was the first bad sign.

“I’ll see you later,” she said to Maris. Stevie jogged off a few paces toward the portico to answer the call.

“Sorry to call at a time like this,” said a familiar voice. “I understand there was some trouble last night.”

Senator King sounded like he was in a hallway, with people chattering all around him.

“Element Walker was found,” he went on. “By David, if I understand things correctly. Do I?”

“Yes,” Stevie said. She was surprised that she did not shake upon hearing his voice.

“Well,” he said. “I suppose that answers the question of where she went. Very sad, of course. Terrible. The poor girl.”

Edward King sounded about as sad about Ellie being found as someone who had just seen someone else drop half a doughnut on the ground. Stevie waited. David had obviously called his father. Whatever was coming, she could and would deal with it. She could unload all of her anger, all of her confusion, everything. It was time. It would feel good. Everything here would end, but . . .

“How do you think he took this?” Edward King said. “Finding the body. How did he seem? He won’t tell me how he is, so I have to ask someone else.”

This was not the question she was expecting.

“Upset,” she said.

“Well, at least that’s normal. That’s good. He seems to be doing much better. I think you’re having a very good influence on him, whatever you’re doing. I’ll make sure to put in a call to your parents today, make sure whatever comes of this is smoothed out. Really, when you think about it, it means there’s less to be concerned about. All right. We’ll talk soon.”

With that, he was gone.

Well, Edward King didn’t appear to know that Stevie had blurted everything out. Not yet, anyway. Stevie twitched a bit, thought of turning back, and then remembered there was no back to turn to. Home was still a crime scene—or, not a crime scene, but a scene. Off limits. She had promised Janelle and Nate she would meet them, and she needed them right now.

She continued on to the dining hall. The moment she went through the doors, it was clear that everyone knew what had happened the night before. For a start, everyone was there, which was weird on the night after the Halloween party. There was a low, electric chatter. Maris was with a group of people by the fireplace and chairs just inside the door. She wasn’t sitting, though—she was standing on one of the chairs. Squatting, actually. Like a chicken. It was a weird move, like something Ellie would do.