Nonsense: Supernatural, Superpowers, Radium Halos (The Senseless Series Book 3) Page 7

  “Only a few weeks ago. I’m working at Moody’s Diner now. Only on the weekends while school is still in session but it’s better than nothing.”

  “That’s cool.” Poor Heidi stuck in a food joint. Our senses should be making us money, not costing us. “I don’t suppose they’re hiring other people at the moment, are they?”

  “I don’t think so.” She laughed. “It stinks, you wouldn’t want to work there. But the bookstore across the street is.”

  I wrinkled my nose. Books and I didn’t get along. “I’ll keep looking.”

  “I didn’t realize you’ve been looking for a job,” Heidi said.

  “I have to get one if I ever want to go to college,” I said as I watched her check the oven. “But I haven’t gotten that serious about applying yet.” I had applied to a few places before the mine incident and a couple after that. But after Rylee died… the thought of working and college seemed trivial. I cleared my throat. I knew better than to think of her. Whenever I did I stopped thinking straight. In fact, I just stopped thinking. Period. Problem was, it was impossible not to. I still didn’t want to accept the fact she was gone. “What type of cookies did you say these were?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “Chocolate chip peanut butter. It looked interesting.”

  “I like peanut butter cups, so I’m sure I’ll like these.”

  “Great!” Heidi smiled. “Thanks again for being my guinea pig. I’d eat them myself, but…”

  “You’d traumatize yourself if they were bad.” I smirked. “I understand. That’s why I no longer smell milk to see if it’s still drinkable.”

  Heidi chuckled and kept mixing. I watched as she worked, and appreciated the fact that she wasn’t trying to talk to me about Rylee or how well I was grieving or any bullshit like that. All my father was preoccupied with was how I was going to move on from Rylee. Hell, even Brent reeked of concern for my well-being. Did they all think I was supposed to move on from Rylee just like that? Why couldn’t I grieve for her at my own pace? Why was it so bad that I wanted to see the son of a bitch who killed her face punishment for what he had done?

  Heidi was like a breath of fresh air. She smelled mostly of lilacs and discomfort, which was her usual smell. I was pretty sure being around other people made her nervous, especially one on one with them. Since figuring that out I had made a small effort not to be as, well, myself, around her, but I could still smell the slightly bitter scent of anxiety.

  She put the cookies in the oven and then started to clean up. The smells of baking ingredients became the smell of Dawn dish detergent. I helped her wipe down the table and put the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. The cookies had to cook for at least fifteen minutes. What were we going to do during that time?

  Heidi seemed to have a plan. “I don’t know about you, but I’m definitely ready for a taste of normalcy. We have Netflix hooked up to the TV. Want to watch something while we wait?”

  I hesitated. Normalcy did sound nice. In fact, it sounded fantastic. But I knew it would only be temporary. And if we watched something, then I would end up spending a lot longer here than I planned to, which meant I wouldn’t be able to search the mine for clues. “I don’t know,” I hesitated. “I really do have to take off after the cookies come out.”

  “Okay.” Heidi tried to hide her disappointment but I could sense it. “We’ll stop the movie when the cookies are done and we can finish the movie whenever. Or not. I don’t care. It beats just sitting here and doing nothing, right?” Her anxiety increased. Probably the thought of fifteen minutes of conversation made her want to pass out.

  I reluctantly nodded. “Okay,” I said. “What do you want to watch?”

  She smiled at me and the sweet smell of relief filled my nostrils. “We’ll find something,” she said.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Zoe

  Kieran led both of us into the sparse but oddly clean motel room. After years of growing up in his father’s filth, I doubted he would ever live even slightly messy again. “Come on,” he said by way of greeting. “Before someone sees you.”

  I looked around the room. On the bed was an open suitcase with files and notebooks strewn about. Near it was a beat-up old laptop open to a page on a freelancing website. “So that’s how you make your money now,” I said, going over to it.

  Kieran nodded. “It’s the least conspicuous.”

  I saw a muscle in Brent’s jaw tighten and heard his heart rate increase. He stopped himself from saying whatever it was that he wanted to say.

  “How do you keep the cops from finding out?” I asked, quickly directing the conversation away from Brent starting a fight.

  “My freelancer name and the name for my profile account are both Jamie Frasier.” Kieran shrugged and tried to smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. “If anyone bigger than the Elliot Lake police department was looking for me, then it probably wouldn’t fly, but I haven’t been caught yet.”

  Brent moved some of the files on the bed to the floor and sat down. “What’s all this?” He pointed to the papers. “Are these police files?”

  “Yeah.” Kieran nodded. “I broke in and made some copies of them. The only person there at night is a deputy who falls asleep around eleven. They don’t even use security cameras in the evidence department.”

  “You seriously stole police property?” I shook my head and sighed. “Kieran, do you want to get caught? That was stupid of you.”

  “I needed the information.” He shrugged. “I needed to know what the police know. Not just to protect myself, but so I can figure out who killed Rylee.” He hesitated and glanced quickly at Brent, who again opened his mouth and then shut it tightly, his side muscle twitching again by his jaw. “They got a detailed look at the crime scene, I didn’t.”

  I glared at him. “That was still stupid, not to mention wrong.”

  “What else was he going to do, Zoe?” Brent picked up one of the files. “If he’s not guilty, it’s a smart move. Someone needs to solve this case.” He flipped through the file in his hand. “What do they say?”

  “That she was killed in a hit and run. Forensics determined the car was blue. There are photos.” He swallowed hard. “Don’t look at them.”

  Brent quickly shut the file and dropped it like it burned his fingers. I knew why, he could see through the manila folder with his hands.

  Kieran cleared his throat. “They found blue paint chips and marked it down that it may be a Toyota Camry. An earlier model, like from the late nineties. There were marks in the snow from the tires that makes them sure it was deliberate. They believe—sorry, they theorize—the car accelerated but it’s hard to confirm because of the snow falling that night. Rylee was,” Kieran’s voice lowered, “hit head on and thrown into the air. The report says the cops are still looking for it but, its whereabouts are unknown. That’s all in that file.” Kieran pointed to the file at Brent’s feet. “According to another file, they are possibly ruling me out as a suspect for her death. I don’t own a Camry and they have no reason to believe I had a motive. But I’m not out of the woods. Because I ran and nobody came forward as my alibi, I’m still a possible suspect they would like to call in for questioning. However, it’s in my father’s case I’m the main suspect.”

  “That’s this file, I’m guessing,” I said, picking it up. I opened it and quickly covered the picture with my hand. I didn’t need to see a dead body mutilated by a rock and then nature. I quickly scanned the police report. I already knew Kieran was guilty on this one and it seemed like the police knew it as well. However, there was no motive listed, nor was there any information on the physical abuse. Without that information, they would find Kieran guilty for murder for sure. “Kieran—”

  “I know,” he said. “I’ll turn myself in as soon as we find Rylee’s killer.”

  “How are we even going to catch a killer?” Brent asked. “We can’t just waltz up to the police station with a person bound and gagged in our trunk and say ‘we stole police fil
es and found this person guilty’. That’s not how it works.”

  “That’s what this is for.” Kieran unzipped a side pocket of a suitcase and pulled out a small tape recorder. “I picked this up at Goodwill. It works, has fresh batteries and a cassette. We can get a confession.”

  Brent scoffed. “That still doesn’t explain how we’re going to get it to the police, or help in any way.”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Kieran argued. “First, we need to find out who it is.” He pulled a map out from under the bed and spread it out on the comforter, showing Elliot Lake. “This is what I’ve figured out so far.”

  It was a shot of the day of Rylee’s death, more or less. Tacks pierced the map with different labels, showing us, my father, and Rylee. I saw myself at home, as well as Brent, Seth, and Heidi at their respective homes. Kieran was pegged up at the mine and Rylee’s tack was where her body had been found. There was a red arrow pointing up the street. Direction of vehicle? written in red ink right beside it.

  “Because of the side of the road she was on, it makes more sense the vehicle came up behind her. You were talking to her on the phone, Zoe,” he said, looking at me. “You told the police that she showed no sign of seeing a car come at her. If that’s correct, then there’s no way a car could have been coming in the opposite direction. It would have been driving on the wrong side of the road or it would have left skid marks from suddenly turning that way. Where the car came from and where it went later is still a mystery, but it would have to have been ditched quickly after that because it was banged up.”

  “What makes you think it was banged up?” I asked.

  “Shards from headlights and pieces of paint were found on Rylee’s body and on the tree nearby,” Brent said, turning a page in the police file he had opened again. “That’s how they have a good idea on the make and model of the car. Kieran’s right. There’s no way the killer would have been able to drive that car for very long afterwards. Not without being noticed.”

  “My theory is that he dumped it in the nearby woods somewhere.” Kieran drew a line with his finger from the scene of Rylee’s death, around a corner and down a back road to the woods surrounding Elliot Lake. “The cops haven’t put this together. If we find that car, we have a crime scene that not even the police have been able to touch.”

  “The killer could’ve gone back to get rid of it after the buzz died down,” Brent said. “What’s the chance it’s still there?”

  “Snow. Bad weather. Cold. It’s really difficult to hide a car,” Kieran said. “They couldn’t have gotten it fixed. Elliot Lake has limited resources, but one of the methods they used listed in the report is sending out notices to all auto-repair places in Elliot Lake and the surrounding towns. In the back is a copy of the notice they sent out. It clearly says that if they don’t report a blue Toyota Camry coming in for these repairs, then they’ll be charged with obstruction of justice. The killer and the car is still at large, so it’s pretty safe to say it wasn’t repaired and it’s probably rusting in the woods somewhere.” He hesitated. “My gut tells me it’s in the woods.”

  Brent raised his eyebrows. “I don’t suppose you’ve checked out the woods, have you?”

  Kieran shook his head. “I’ve looked a bit but I don’t know the woods that well. I could easily get lost at night and there are too many people around during the day. That why I need help from the two of you.”

  Brent nodded. “So you think the car will help us find the killer?”

  “It’s a start,” Kieran said. “Can you guys find this area all right?” He pointed on the map to the woods he believed the car was in.

  “Yeah.” Brent had stood up when Kieran put the map on the bed, he shivered and shoved his hands into his pockets. “We go hiking in these woods all the time. We don’t even need a map to get there.”

  “Good,” Kieran said. “The less of a paper trail there is between you and me, the better. I don’t want the two of you to get in trouble on my account.”

  “Aren’t we already risking getting in trouble just by being here?” Brent glanced at me, then back at Kieran.

  Kieran fixed him with a hard stare. “I told you, I wouldn’t have gotten the two of you involved in the first place if I had a choice. I swear.”

  Too much testosterone. One of these lions was going to roar and try to pick a fight. I stepped between them. “We’ll be careful when we look for the car, okay?”

  They both finally nodded. I glanced at my watch. “It’s time for us to go. I’ll let you know if we find something.”

  “Thank you, Zoe.” Kieran held my gaze before slowly turning to Brent. “You too, Brent. I mean it.”

  Brent nodded at him.

  “Keep her safe.”

  “You know I will.”

  I shook my head. I was still in the bloody room and could hear them loud and clear. “See you.” I turned and opened the motel room door, too embarrassed to hug or kiss him in front of Brent. It felt wrong after Brent had admitted he had feelings for me. Brent followed me out.

  We waited until we were back out into the car with the doors closed and engine running before talking.

  “We can’t do this tonight,” I said. “It’s nearly dark and it’s too late and my mom’s going to be ticked if I get home past curfew. She’s basically waiting at the door for me when I’m at her place.”

  Brent nodded. “That’s fine. I have things to do as well. Tomorrow?”

  “Yeah,” I said, pulling out of the motel parking lot. “I wonder how Heidi did with Seth today. Do you think she was able to keep him from going to the mine?”

  “I don’t know.” Brent stared out the window, his mind seemed a million miles away. “I just hope he trusts her a little more than he trusts the rest of us. I’ll even take that.”

  I turned left at a stop sign. “I guess I’d take that, too. Hopefully she can talk him off the ledge.” I glanced at Brent, but he wasn’t listening any longer. He was looking in the rear-view mirror with a furrowed brow. “What’s wrong?”

  “That gray car has been following us since the motel.”

  I looked in the mirror and saw a small gray vehicle a car back. “They probably pulled out at the same time we did. There’s only one way out of this crappy little town.”

  But as we drove, the car didn’t leave us. It kept following us down the road back to Elliot Lake.

  “Pull over,” Brent said suddenly. “Stop the car. Right now!”

  I slammed on the brakes, not even pulling to the side of the road. Brent opened the door before I even realized.

  The car whizzed by.

  I heard Brent’s camera click as he took a picture as the car disappeared in the distance.

  “Did you get it?”

  “Kind of.” He dropped back down into the passenger seat staring at the screen of his phone. “The license plate’s blurry but I’ll be able to recognize it if we see it again.”

  “Me too.” I shivered. If we knew their car, it was pretty easy to figure they’d know mine. “Now what?” I stared ahead at the empty road in front of us. I could still hear the sound of the gray car’s engine as it sped away. I’d never catch it in my little Beetle.

  “Now, to the school to get my car.”

  I nodded. “Sounds good.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Brent

  Mom and Dad were both home by the time I pulled my car into the driveway. I could hear them in their room, talking in hushed voices. I sighed in frustration, annoyed they were trying to hide something, Kieran was trying to hide something, and everyone had freakin’ secrets. I didn’t announce I was home. Instead I walked up quickly and listened, trying to make out what they were saying.

  “What’re you going to tell them, John? How are you going to tell our boys you want a divorce?” his mom hissed.

  I blinked in surprise. I’d never heard my mom ticked, nor did I see divorce a part of the equation. What had his dad done now? I pressed my fingers lightly o
n the door seeing the scene closed off in front of me. My father stood by the window smoking and my mother sat on the bed, her hands gesturing as she spoke.

  “I don’t know, Karen. What’re you going to tell them? That you’ve been screwing your tennis instructor for the past five fucking years?”

  Mom coiled back like she’d been slapped. Her face burned red as she stood. “Maybe I wouldn’t have started the affair if you were ever at home. I’m not your wife, I’m your little trophy! Where’ve you been, John? Do you even know me anymore? Do you even know your sons?”

  Brent swallowed. The words sinking in. My mom’s been having an affair? Was that where she was the other night? Unable to listen or watch anymore, I stalked off to my own room, wanting to slam the door, but closing it quietly instead. My family was being ripped apart and there wasn’t anything I could do to stop it. Maybe Zoe was right about the powers. What was the point of having them when I couldn’t even stop my own life from going to hell?

  #

  The next day I sat with Heidi at lunch. “How did it go?”

  She knew what I was referring to and glanced around the near-empty hallway where we sat eating just to make sure nobody was listening. She shrugged. “I was able to get him to watch a movie with me. We made cookies, too. It was late by the time he went home so I doubt he went to the mine.”

  I grinned. “Nice job.” I punched her lightly on the shoulder. “Way to go, soldier.”

  She smiled. “I think he wants things to go back to normal. It’s just hard without any closure on Rylee’s death.” She leaned her head against the locker. “Her superficial crazy nature drove me bonkers at times but I would do anything to hear her voice again.”

  I nodded. “Me, too.” I stared at the half-eaten sandwich in my hand. “Seth too.”

  “I told him I’d come over to his house today and I was going to bake him something else.”