Two Can Keep a Secret(64)
The woman glances up from her phone, and her expression immediately settles into a look of deep dislike. “Tickets,” she growls without returning the greeting.
“We don’t have them yet,” Malcolm says. “Can I get two, please?”
Liz looks positively triumphant when she tells him, “We’re not selling them at the door.”
Malcolm pauses in the act of reaching for his wallet. “That’s kind of a flawed system.”
“You’re supposed to buy them ahead of time,” Liz sniffs.
“Hey, guys,” a melodic voice calls behind us. I turn to see Daisy coming out of the gym, looking pretty in a formfitting blue dress and high heels.
“Hi,” I say, relieved to see a friendly face. “You look nice.”
“Gotta dress up for chaperone duty, right, Liz?” Daisy says. Liz smooths the front of her frumpy dress, and I feel a pang of sympathy for her. Daisy flicks her eyes between Malcolm and me. “I’m surprised to see you two here. Mia said you weren’t coming.”
“We changed our minds. But we didn’t know you needed tickets ahead of time,” I add, giving Liz my most ingratiating smile.
Liz crosses her arms over her chest, ready to argue until Daisy puts a placating hand on her arm. “Oh, I’m sure it’s okay now that the dance is more than half over. Right, Liz?” No response, but Daisy presses on. “Principal Slate wouldn’t want to turn anyone away. Not on a night like this, when the school is trying to bring people together. And we need every penny we can get for the reward fund.” She flashes the kind of sweet, winning smile that probably got her elected to student council all four years at Echo Ridge High. Liz continues to glower, but with less certainty. I guess Daisy’s secret relationship with Declan is still under wraps, or Liz would probably be a lot less charitable.
“We’d really appreciate it,” I say. Malcolm, wisely, keeps his mouth shut.
Liz holds out her palm with an annoyed snort. “Fine. Five dollars. Each.”
Malcolm hands over a ten. We walk with Daisy into the gymnasium, which is packed with students and decorated with purple streamers and silver balloons. “Should we look for Mia and Ezra?” Malcolm asks, raising his voice to be heard over the thumping music. I nod and he turns toward the center of the room, but Daisy pulls at my arm before I can follow.
“Can I ask you something?” she shouts.
I hesitate as Malcolm disappears into the crowd without realizing I’m not behind him. “Um, okay,” I say.
Daisy puts her head close to mine so she doesn’t have to yell. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. About Ryan Rodriguez and the bracelet?” I nod. We hadn’t gotten much chance to discuss that on Thursday, once Mia and Daisy’s parents came home and started hyperventilating over Mia’s head injury. She told them she tripped headfirst into the fireplace mantel. “It’s been worrying me. Why do you think he might have given it to Lacey? Do you know something?”
“No,” I admit. I don’t want to catalog all my vague suspicions to Daisy, especially after what she’d said that day: There’s this whole other layer when you’re one of the only minority families in town. Sometimes I forget how … not diverse Echo Ridge is. But when I look around at the crowded gym, I remember. And it feels less harmless to toss speculation around about someone whose last name is Rodriguez.
Besides, even though I crossed Daisy off my suspect list after getting to know her better, I still think Declan is sketchy. Malcolm might not talk to him much, but I’m sure Daisy does.
“It’s just because he knew her,” I say instead.
Daisy’s brow creases. “But … it’s not like they were friends.”
“He was so devastated when she died, though.”
She straightens up in surprise, her pretty eyes wide. “Says who?”
“My mother.” Daisy still looks confused, so I add, “She saw him at the funeral. When he got hysterical and had to be carried out?”
“Ryan Rodriguez did?” Daisy’s tone is incredulous, and she shakes her head decisively. “That didn’t happen.”
“Maybe you missed it?” I suggest.
“No. Our class was small, we were all on one side of the church. I would’ve noticed.” Daisy’s mouth curves in an indulgent smile. “Your mom was probably being dramatic. Hollywood, right?”
I pause. Daisy’s response is almost exactly what Nana said when I brought it up a couple of weeks ago. That didn’t happen. Then, I thought Nana was being dismissive. But that was before I’d fully experienced how odd Sadie can be when it comes to talking about Echo Ridge. “Yeah, I guess,” I say slowly.
I don’t think Daisy has any reason to lie about Lacey’s funeral. But does Sadie?
“Sorry, I separated you from your date, didn’t I?” Daisy says as we spy Malcolm emerging from a crowd in the middle of the room. “I better circulate and make myself useful. Have fun.” She waves and heads for the sidelines, pirouetting to avoid a couple of theater kids starting a dramatic waltz as the music slows down.
“What happened to you?” Malcolm asks when he reaches me. He looks more disheveled than he did when he left, like someone who found himself at the edge of a mosh pit but didn’t go all in: jacket unbuttoned, tie loosened, hair mussed.