Aftermath(77)

“Then we wait for him to leave and go check.”

Not what I was going to suggest, and he knows it, saying, “We’re waiting, Skye. If he moves Tiffany, we’ll hear it. Otherwise, there is absolutely no advantage to jumping him. Remember what happened the last time?” He nods at my arm.

He has a point. A very good one. It’s just…

“Yes,” he says. “My plan is very boring. Safe and boring.”

“We need to place Chris at the scene,” I say.

“I’m sure his fingerprints will do that.”

“He’ll wear gloves. He did last night.”

“Skye, do not try to make this more exciting.”

“I’m not —”

“Yep, totally are.” He puts an arm around my waist and leans in as if to kiss me, and then stops. “Speaking of bad ideas…”

“Seems like a good one to me. Definitely more exciting than just standing around.”

“But we’re standing around to listen for him. Which means we can’t get distracted by kissing.”

“I hate it when you make sense.”

“Only when it interferes with your grand adventures.” He brushes his lips across mine, and then moves to the fence. He grabs the edge, hoists himself up and hangs there, peering over. A few moments later, he hops back down and says, “How about a compromise? We won’t confront Chris, but considering all the trouble we’ve had convincing people, it’d be wise to get a photo of him near that van.”

“Can you get that from here?”

“No, which is where you get your excitement. There’s another fence right behind the van. That’ll get us closer and give a better angle.”

When we reach the fence, though, we see a problem – it’s even higher, with wire along the top.

“If we go to the end and peek around, we’ll be perfectly lined up for a photo,” I say.

“Also perfectly lined up for Chris to see us.”

“I’ll keep my flash off. Just a quick peek and a snap.”

“Yeah, and if that doesn’t work, you’ll creep closer and closer until you’re right in front of him. We’ll figure out something else.”

We head along the fence. At the end, I see a car between us and the van. Jesse whispers a plan.

We creep to the car, and then I sneak along the back with my camera ready. Jesse heads around the front, where he’ll toss pebbles, drawing Chris’s attention while I get the picture.

It’d be a great plan… if Chris was anywhere to be seen.

When I get around the car, there’s no sign of him. I catch an unexpected smell, though. One I recognize.

That’s when I see Chris. He’s sitting on the back bumper of the van, his phone in one hand, thumb zipping across the screen. In the other hand… well, that’s where the smell comes from.

I take another two steps. My foot comes down, and I see something beneath it, but it’s too late. I’m stepping on a crushed soda can. My foot catches the edge, sending it clinking away. Chris jumps up, dropping the joint, his sneaker coming down to put it out as he sees me.

“Skye?”

There’s a clatter behind him. Running footfalls. Then a dark shape launches at Chris’s back, knocking him down. His phone thumps to the ground.

“Jesse?” he says.

Jesse flips Chris over and pats him down.

“What the hell?” Chris says, looking confused.

Jesse empties Chris’s pockets. Keys and a wallet.

“No knife,” Jesse grunts as he double-checks.

“Knife?” Chris says, his voice rising.

I open the back door of the panel van. I know I’m not going to see Tiffany in there. Instead, I find exactly what I now expect – a small bag of weed, with rolling papers and a lighter. And a can of Axe body spray.

“I’d offer you guys some,” Chris says. “But I get the feeling that’s really not what you’re here for.”

“It isn’t,” I say. “I hate Axe.”

He gives a strained chuckle. “It’s cover-up. My mom wouldn’t appreciate me coming home smelling like weed.”

“I suspect she can still figure it out.”

“Yeah, probably. I don’t smoke much. Just… I had a rough night at work. But, again, I’m sure I’m not lying on the ground because you guys disapprove of my choice of stress relief. Any chance I can get up?”

“When you tell us where we’ll find Tiffany,” Jesse says.

“Tiffany Gold?”

“She’s missing.”

“What?”

Chris’s shock looks genuine.

“You know I’ve been having trouble at school, right?” I say. “Someone harassing me and then framing me for it.”

His eyes widen more. “Are you saying that was Tiffany? And now she’s taken off?”

“No, but I think her disappearance is connected to what’s happening to me. That whoever is harassing me might have taken her.”

“Kidnapped her?”

“So you know nothing about that?”

“How could I…?” His gaze travels from me to Jesse. “Wait, you’re not accusing me —”