The Boy from the Woods(46)

Wilde hadn’t been back to Florida since.

When the bell trilled, Wilde slipped into a supply closet. Ava stood near the door to the corridor.

Two minutes later, Crash Maynard came in. “You wanted to see me, Miss O’Brien?”

Wilde left the closet door open a crack so he could watch.

Ava said, “Yes, thank you.”

Crash touched a clay sculpture standing by the stool.

“That’s still drying,” Ava warned him.

“I don’t get why you paged me. I haven’t taken an art class since freshman year.”

“This isn’t about art. Why don’t you have a seat?”

“My mom’s waiting for me, so—”

“Do you know where Naomi Pine is?”

Wilde liked that. No reason to play around.

“Me?” Crash said it as though the very notion that he might know was the most shocking and incomprehensible concept ever uttered. “Why would I know?”

“You and Naomi are classmates.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But?”

Crash gave a chuckle that seemed both nervous and cocky at the same time. “We aren’t exactly friends or anything.”

“But you talk.”

“No, we don’t.”

Ava folded her arms. “Why should she tell me that you did?”

“Naomi said that?”

“Yes.”

Crash gave it a second. You could see the wheels turning as an aw-shucks smile spread across his face. “I shouldn’t say this.”

“But?”

“I think Naomi might have a thing for me.”

“And if she did?”

“Well, I mean, if she said we talked”—shrug—“I don’t know, maybe she was trying to show off or something.”

“Show off?”

“Yeah. Or, I don’t know, I’m nice to her and all. So, like, if she says hi to me, I say hi back.”

“Wow,” Ava said. “That is nice.”

The sarcasm went right over his head. “But really we don’t have any serious interaction. You know what I mean?”

“I think I do,” Ava said. “Now tell me about the night Matthew ghosted her or whatever you call it at your house.”

Silence.

“Crash?”

He lifted his phone into view and touched a button. Wilde didn’t like that. “My mom is texting me, Ms. O’Brien.”

“Okay.”

“I have to go.”

“Answer my question first.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. Naomi told me—”

“She told you?”

“Yes—”

“Then there’s no reason to ask me about it,” Crash said, which, Wilde had to admit, was a pretty decent rejoinder. “I’d better leave now, Ms. O’Brien.”

“I want to know—”

Crash spun toward her, getting a little too close. “I don’t know anything about Naomi Pine!” The aw-shucks tone was gone. “Nothing!”

Ava didn’t back away. “You saw her that night.”

“So what if I did? She was on my property.”

“Why did you tell Matthew Crimstein to prank her?”

“Did Matthew tell you that?” He shook his head. “Look, I’m allowed to leave, right? You can’t force me to stay, can you?”

“No, of course not—”

“Then I’m out of here.”

Wilde figured, Why not? He opened the closet door and said, “I can stop you.” He crossed the room and positioned himself so that his back was against the door, literally blocking the teen’s exit. Ava shot him a look and shook her head. The look and headshake both said that this wasn’t the way to handle it.

Crash scowled. “What is this?”

“Tell us where Naomi is,” Wilde said.

His eyes narrowed. “You came to my house the other night. You’re the one who grabbed the gun from my guard.”

Ava shot Wilde another look. He ignored it.

“You’re not in trouble,” Wilde said, which may or may not have been true. “We just need to find Naomi.”

The door behind Wilde suddenly burst open, hitting him in the back and throwing him off balance. Thor surged through the door, lowering his shoulder like a blitzing linebacker. Wilde cursed himself. Of course, the kid would have security. Of course, he’d use his phone to signal he needed help. Stupid of Wilde to be caught off guard.

Now he was in serious trouble.

Thor leapt toward Wilde. No hesitancy. Wilde was still trying to get his bearings.

But it was too late.

Thor wrapped his muscled arms around Wilde, his shoulder in the midsection, and drove Wilde back. Squeezing and lifting Wilde right off the ground, Thor kept his legs going, ready to slam Wilde into the floor.

This was definitely not good.

Thor was mad. Probably upset about being embarrassed when Wilde disarmed him in front of his boss. This was payback.

Wilde debated his next move. There really wasn’t one. He was off his feet, in a bear hug, with milliseconds before he hit the floor. If they were standing or slowed down, he might try to headbutt the big man’s nose. But Thor had lowered his face into Wilde’s chest.