Locust Lane(51)

The house phone rang. She scooped it up immediately—Hannah was still asleep. She’d be going to school late today.

“Ms. Holt?”

“Yes,” she said, letting the mistake stand.

“This is Detective Gates. Is your husband available?”

“Not just now,” Alice said, even though he was currently sitting about fifty feet away. “Can I help you?”

“Could you have him call me as soon as possible?”

“Sure. Can I tell him what this is about?”

There was a pause.

“Thing is, he might not be available for a bit.”

“In that case, you’re going to have to help us out,” Gates said. “We need to speak with Hannah again. As soon as possible.”

“Shall I have her call or…”

“We’d like you to bring her in. Immediately.”

They’d found out about the drugs. That had to be it. In Alice’s youth, the presence of drugs at a gathering like last night’s was a given. But the good folk of Emerson took a darker view of controlled substances. Here, getting caught with them had dire consequences for that holiest of grails—the future.

She headed down the hall, passing Geoff’s quiet office. She thought about him in Oliver’s car and that flickering security footage. There was no need to tell him about this just yet. She pushed Hannah’s door open. She lay sprawled at an acute angle on her bed, looking for all the world like she’d just plummeted to her death from a great height. Her face was buried in the pillow, hidden by a plume of hair. Her sheet was half-wrapped around her, exposing a lightly freckled thigh.

Alice crossed the room. Hannah’s phone was charging on the bedside table. Without really deciding to do it, Alice reached out and touched the ID button. The phone lit up. There were four banners on the locked screen, each a message from Jack. They’d arrived within the last minute. The first read Hannah don’t freak out. The next said Just stick to the story. And then You tell them what E was saying I’m fucked. Finally, ERASE THESE. Alice, her heart pounding, desperate to read more, swiped the third message. She understood her mistake the moment she was faced with the invitation to enter her pass code.

Goddammit. Hannah stirred. Alice put her hand on her shoulder.

“Hannah?” She gently rubbed her shoulder. “Hanns? Sweetie?”

The girl’s eyes slowly opened.

“Time to get up. The police want to talk to you again.”

“Did they say why?” she said, fully awake now.

“No, but I presume they know about the drugs.”

“Shit.”

“Don’t worry about it. There’s nothing they can do at this point. Unless you still have some of them?”

“No.”

“But you’re going to have to tell your father about it.”

“He’ll be pissed.”

“You want me to deal with him?”

“No. Shit. I’ll do it.”

Hannah’s gaze migrated to the phone, as if she sensed there were messages behind its now-dark screen.

“I better get dressed,” she said.

You tell them what E was saying I’m fucked. The words played through Alice’s mind as she went to Geoff’s office. She didn’t bother knocking. His screen was now covered with its usual luminous bioscribbles. He pulled off the headphones and turned to her. His bloodshot eyes shimmied; his parched lips were coated with a fine milky film.

“The cops just called,” Alice said. “They want to talk to Hannah again.”

He didn’t seem surprised by the news. Unhappy, but not surprised.

“It sounded urgent,” she added.

“Okay, I got it,” he said, his words urging her out the door.

She was tempted to hit him with the things she’d witnessed, his meeting with Oliver and the security camera footage and Jack’s texts. But she once again chose silence. She went to the kitchen, where she paced, trying unsuccessfully to fit the pieces together. It was all coming at her too fast. But one thing was clear. This wasn’t about drugs. Not only. This was suburban DEFCON 4. Or 1. Whichever was the worst, this was it.

Geoff soon arrived with Hannah, whose eyes flexed with worry. She would have just read Jack’s messages. Read them and then erased them. As instructed.

“So what’s going on?” Alice asked.

“They just want to clear up a few details.”

“Geoff…”

“Everything’s fine.” He immediately understood how harsh his words must have sounded. “Sorry. We gotta go. We’ll talk when I get back.”

She texted Michel the moment they were gone. MICHEL IT’S ME. I need to see you asap. Something weird’s going on. Like last night’s message, it was delivered but remained unread. And so she was once again cast into the no-man’s-land of waiting for him to contact her. There was nothing to do but pace the house. Time passed. Minutes, and then it was an hour. She was upstairs when there was a knock on the door. Tentative, friendly, unlike yesterday’s doom-laden cop-rap. Celia was all smiles and sweet light when Alice greeted her.

“I thought you’d disappeared into thin air!”

“It’s been a madhouse here,” Alice said.

“Tell me about it. But I bring a little sanity.”