You'll Be the Death of Me(37)

“Boney!” A voice, pitched high and panicky, floods my ear. “Holy shit, man, I never thought I’d be this glad to talk to you. People have been saying you’re dead. What the hell happened over there? Did the guy ever show?”

“Um.” I have no idea what to say next. Ivy mouths something I can’t understand, and I wave her away so I can think. “Um, is this Charlie St. Clair?” I ask.

For a few seconds, all I can hear from the other end is ragged breathing. “Why are you asking me that?” Charlie asks in a more normal tone, and now I recognize him. Even when he’s freaking out, he sounds like the turtle in Finding Nemo.

“Yeah, so, here’s the thing. This isn’t Boney—” I start.

“Shit!” Charlie interrupts with a strangled half scream, and abruptly hangs up.

“Charlie, wait!” I say into the dead phone. Then I lower it, hoping I can somehow get him back, but now that he’s disconnected, Boney’s screen is locked again. “Damn it,” I say, frustration mounting as I fruitlessly swipe at the screen. “He’s gone.”

“Let me see,” Ivy says. I hand her Boney’s phone, and she says, “Mateo, you tried 1-2-3-4 as a passcode, right?” He nods. “Anything else?”

    “No,” Mateo says.

“Maybe his name.” Ivy mutters B-O-N-E-Y as she presses the keypad, then frowns and shakes her head. “No luck. Cal, what did Charlie say?”

I replay our short conversation word for word, as best I can remember. I’m positive that I have at least one part right: Charlie asking, Did the guy ever show? I try to say it neutrally, like it doesn’t mean anything, even while my brain flashes with additional context.

The guy. Not “she.” Not Lara.

I don’t want to push that onto Ivy and Mateo. If I do, they might think I only heard what I wanted to hear—or worse, that I’m lying. But relief is already coursing through me at the thought that Boney wasn’t there to see Lara. She might’ve lied to me about a lot of things, but she didn’t lie about that.

“I thought you said Boney and Charlie weren’t friends,” I say to Ivy.

“They’re not,” she says. “I’m sure of it. Anyway, it sounds like that call was specifically about this morning, doesn’t it? Like Charlie knew Boney was going to be at the studio to meet someone. But it doesn’t seem as though he’s told anyone else, because no one at school is gossiping about it. Plus, both of them had their names circled by Ms. Jamison, so…I think we need to talk to Charlie. He’s the only person who might be able to make sense of all this. Since the third name on the list insists that he can’t.” She shoots Mateo a sideways look. “Unless that’s changed? Have you thought of anything that might be useful?”

“No,” he says.

    Ivy doesn’t press him, and I don’t understand why. It’s not like she let me get away with anything when it came to Lara. I know Ivy had that huge crush on Mateo years ago, but that can’t be the only reason she’s so careful around him.

She picks up her phone and glances between us. “Do either of you have Charlie’s number?”

“No.” Mateo and I say it in unison this time.

“Hmm,” she says. “Maybe my brother does. They hang in the same circles, and used to play some of the same sports before Daniel decided to concentrate on lacrosse.” She swipes at her phone and grimaces. “Oh God, I have so many texts from Daniel. He’s loving the gossip.” She lowers her voice in an imitation of her brother, reading from her screen. “Are you a murderer y/n. Should I tell M&D you might be a murderer y/y. Have you fled the country? So hilarious, Daniel. This is all such a fun joke.”

“You sure you want to talk to him right now?” Mateo asks.

“No,” Ivy says, stabbing at her phone. “But I don’t know anyone else who might have Charlie’s number. I’m not going to tell him anything.”

She’s barely finished texting when her phone rings. “Is it Daniel?” I ask, surprised. “Isn’t he in class now? It’s past lunch, right?”

“Yeah. It must be anarchy over there.” Ivy squeezes her eyes shut briefly. “I hope I don’t regret this.” She accepts the call and presses the phone to her ear. “Hi.”

I scrunch closer to her and hear Daniel ask, “What—and I cannot stress this enough—the fuck is going on with you?”

Ivy rubs her temple. “I can’t get into that right now. Do you happen to know Charlie St. Clair’s number?”

    “Excuse me?” Even though it’s faint, I can hear the outraged sarcasm in Daniel’s voice. “Let me get this straight. You skip school the day Boney Mahoney gets murdered, you match the description of the suspect, you won’t answer anyone’s texts all day—and now you want Charlie St. Clair’s phone number?”

“Yes,” Ivy says. “Do you have it?”

“Are you out of your mind? Tell me what’s going on.”

“So you don’t have it?”

“Maybe I do, but I’m not giving you anything without an explanation,” Daniel says peevishly. Ivy rolls her eyes and mouths He doesn’t have it as her brother’s voice takes on a warning tone. “Anyway, that guy’s trouble. Stay away from him.”