Aftermath(78)

“I also mentioned that someone’s been trying to get me to dig into the North Hampton shooting. Leaving notes. Dropping off articles and police report pages…”

He goes still. “Oh, hell.” He exhales. “Okay, this looks bad.”

I motion for Jesse to let Chris up. He does, but stays close, ready to put him down again.

“Yes, I put that stuff in your locker,” Chris says.

“The articles and pages.”

“Yes.”

“The note saying There’s more to the story.”

“Yes.”

“The note shoved under the newspaper office door, saying I know what you did.”

“What? No. That wasn’t me. Just the other one. And the pages.” He shakes his head. “This looks so bad.”

“Yeah, it kinda does,” I say.

He looks around. “Can we go grab food and talk? I’m starving.”

I point at the stubbed-out joint. “That’ll do it.”

He chuckles. “No, I didn’t smoke that much. But I was trying to save money by eating when I got home. So I’m starving. I’m not trying to wiggle out of this.” He points to the keys. “We can use my mom’s car. You drive. Just be careful. Please.”

“I don’t have my license,” I say. “Jesse brought his mom’s car. We’ll take that. I just need to call home and let my aunt know I won’t be home before dark.” I wave up at the blackened sky.

“I should tell my mom too,” Chris says.

“Do you have a copy of the pages you gave me?” I ask.

His brow furrows. “Sure, up in our apartment.”

“Jesse? Can you go with Chris and get those while he lets his mom know he’s going out?”

Skye

On the drive, I take Chris’s pages. I flip straight to the police report. I remember the detective slapping the file shut before I could read it, and my stomach has been hosting a butterfly convention ever since Chris handed them to me.

I read the report once. I read it twice. Chris wanted me to see something here that would make me proclaim Luka’s innocence. But I don’t. It’s the opposite, in fact.

The pages are from the statement of the “witness” who told them Luka was involved. The report doesn’t name Harley as the source, but it must be him. He’s the only survivor. As the detective said, under the terms of his plea bargain, the details of his statement were secret, which is why he isn’t named.

What I have are two pages that talk about Luka’s involvement. Two pages clarifying, unequivocally, that my brother was part of the shooting. Isaac came up with the plan, but Luka was on board. He was angry with our dad and upset about our mother, and feeling like no one understood him.

Feeling like no one was paying attention to him.

Joining Isaac’s plan to make them pay attention.

Exactly what Mr. Vaughn and Mae accused me of.

And now, maybe, I know why.

But this doesn’t explain why Chris gave me these pages. Which is what I’m going to ask, obviously. I just want to hear his explanation first.

We go for pizza. I let Chris order, but when he adds bacon, I shake my head. He hesitates. Then his gaze shoots to Jesse, and he says, “Right. Forgot.” Jesse says no, he’s fine picking it off, but I’m glad when Chris amends the order. Making Jesse pick it off isn’t right.

When the server leaves, Chris says, “I was trying to help. Which, obviously, is the polar opposite of what I did. In my defense, I had no idea the other stuff was happening.”

He sips his Coke, and then says, “I never liked the official explanation. Luka as a shooter? He was my reading buddy in first grade. Did you know that?”

I shake my head.

“You and I were in different classes then, and it’s not like you’d remember anyway. I wasn’t having problems with other kids yet. Just trouble reading. Dyslexia.”

“You’re dyslexic?”

He nods. “Diagnosed two years ago, finally. It’s helped me come up with strategies to make school easier, but mostly it just gave me more confidence, knowing I’m not stupid. Anyway, Luka was awesome. He was so patient with me. Years later, if he saw me anywhere, he’d stop to say hi, chat. How does a guy like that decide to go on a shooting spree?”

“It happens. Believe me, I’ve done the research.”

“Maybe, but I couldn’t see it. So I always had doubts. Then, last year, I went out with this girl from Southfield whose mom had worked the case. She’s a detective with the RPD. Somehow the shooting came up – it was the anniversary or whatever – and she mentioned Luka. She overheard her mom once, talking to another detective about how she felt bad about Luka, always thought there was more to it. Not that the other cops covered anything up, but she felt like they missed something. I asked this girl to get me the police report. Which was totally wrong, I know. But I had to see it. And when I did, I knew there was a problem.”

I’m about to say I don’t understand, but he’s still talking.

“I couldn’t act on it,” he says. “If my family discovered I was questioning the shooting? Suggesting one of the shooters wasn’t guilty, when my own cousin died? Maybe I’m a coward, but I couldn’t be the one to raise questions. It’d hurt my aunt and uncle too much. I was trying to figure out a way to do it anonymously. Then you came to RivCol, Skye, and I knew who I had to give those pages to – the person who could use them the most.”