25. Chapter 25
Chapter 25
Dylan
A t six-forty-seven, I pulled into our driveway. I should have been home thirty-minutes ago, but some idiot had to ask Pete about his time in the Olympics right as he was about to end our workout. Of course, he couldn’t resist the chance to relive his glory days with all of us stuck listening.
Dad’s BMW wasn’t in his parking spot—a good sign. I didn’t need him showing up and cornering Elise, telling her that her dad was a killer again. Seriously, what kind of a guy insisted on telling someone their parent was a murderer weeks after that parent had just been found dead?
I didn’t even wait for the water to warm up before jumping into the shower. Elise would be here in less than ten minutes, and we did not need my body-odor sitting like a wet-dog between us while we looked for clues about her dad’s death.
“Hey, what’s the hurry?” Mom asked when I reached the top of the stairs and ran a hand through my drenched hair.
“I have a friend coming over tonight, remember?”
Mom’s eyes widened for a second before she pasted on a casual smile and returned to grating carrots. “That’s right; I’d forgotten.
I glanced at the door, checking for any human-shaped shadows on the stained glass before taking a seat on the edge of the couch. “You’re still sure Dad’s going to be gone for the rest of the night?”
Why were my palms sweating? I rubbed them on my jeans before standing to check my hair in the mirror.
“He’s trying to build up his clientele, so he’s working five nights this week, tonight included.” Mom gave me a knowing smile. “I thought you said this Sudbury girl was just a friend.”
“Trust me, there is nothing going on between us. She’s made that very clear.”
“Uh huh.” Mom winked. “Well, just in case, what does this non-girlfriend like to eat?”
“I have no idea. I think she’s kind of a health nut. Every time someone offers her something sugary, she takes it but doesn’t eat it.”
The doorbell rang, and I took one last look in the hall mirror before rushing to the entry.
“I’ll get it.”
Before I could react, Claire sped past me and grabbed the door handle. She flashed me an evil grin, then twisted the knob.
“You must be Dylan’s new girlfriend,” she said, holding the door open just enough for her head to peek through.
When I tried to wrench the handle out of her grasp, she kicked me in the shin.
“Claire,” Mom called. “Leave Dylan and his friend alone and come give me a hand in the kitchen.”
Groaning, she leaned far enough away that I was able to squeeze myself in front of her. Elise stood on the doorstep. Her face was bright red, and she clutched her bag to her chest.
“Sorry about that. Little sisters are the worst. I don’t blame you if you don’t want to come in, but I did check, and my dad’s supposed to be gone all night, so all you have to worry about is whether Claire has rabies or not. The jury’s still out on that one.”
Something flicked the back of my ear, and I threw an elbow into what must have been Claire’s stomach.
“Ow. Mom, Dylan elbowed me really hard.”
“Why don’t you come here and tell me all about it?”
Once the brat left stomping down the hall, I swung the door wide. “Welcome to Chateau de Harper.”
Elise’s smile was nervous, but she stepped inside.
“Hey, what happened to your arm?” I asked, pointing to the deep gash.
“Oh, sorry; I forgot to put on a new bandage. I cut myself cleaning up some broken glass a few days ago. It’s not a big deal.”
If it wasn’t a big deal, then why was she trying to keep it hidden under her bag?
“Here, let’s go downstairs, and I can show you what I found before my sister comes back?”
“Let me take off my shoes first.” She hurried to untie her laces.
“You don’t have to do that.”
Laying one shoe beside the other on the tile floor, Elise shook her head. “Your parents might live here, but I know very well whose house this is, and I know better than to walk around inside it with my shoes on.”
She had a good point. Grannie liked to keep things so clean that everything looked brand new, and that was saying something considering she still had her original shag carpet.
After leading Elise down the stairs. I stopped in front of a door and held a finger to my lips. She quirked an eyebrow but said nothing. Judging by the sound of Mom and Claire’s muffled voices combined with the clank of pans and whir of the electric mixer, they were busy baking something in the kitchen, which meant Operation K was a go.
Silently, I turned the doorknob and inched open the door. When no sirens went off, I flipped the light switch and motioned for Elise to follow me inside. We were in.
Honestly, I’d only stepped into this room a handful of times in my whole life. It was like stepping into the Batcave, only it wasn’t nearly as cool, and I bet the Batcave didn’t have a shoe organizer filled with heels for The Dark Knight’s shoe obsession.
“Why are you acting so weird, and whose room is this?” Elise hissed.
I eased the door closed before answering. “This is my mom and dad’s room. It was my dad’s before he moved out, and now that we can’t afford another mortgage, it’s his again.”
“And why are we here?”
“That’s why.” I pointed to a corner piled with boxes.
“After my aunt died, my dad basically hoarded all her stuff. If there’s anything to find about her death, it’s in one of these boxes.”
“And we’re going to raid them without his permission? Exactly how sure are you that he’s not coming home anytime soon?”
“I’m sure. Dad needs more clients. He’s not going to ditch a potential one and risk ticking them off just to come here.”
Rubbing my hands together, I took in the room. Everything needed to be put back exactly where it had been if I wanted to live to see my next birthday.
“Your dad must be a big Lakers fan.” Elise pointed to the life-sized poster of Magic Johnson that covered one wall.
“You have no idea. I think he knows more of the Lakers’ stats than he knows about his own kids. He forgot about Claire’s birthday this year and his anniversary the year before that.”
“Yikes, I’m sorry. Why do you think he’s like that?”
I looked at the basketball my dad kept in a glass case on his nightstand. The ball was signed by five of the players who’d played on the 1988 NBA championship team and had cost a fortune. That ball would never give him grandkids, yet he would rather spend time polishing its case than getting to know Claire and I.
Why was that?
“You know my grandpa Frank isn’t his biological dad, right?”
Elise nodded.
“Well, from everything I’ve heard, Dad’s biological father was a total jerk. He treated Grandma like trash and would even beat her sometimes. When my dad and Aunt Kelly got older, he started to hit them too. Dad tried to protect Kelly, which only made Mark more mad. One night, the guy came home drunk and lit into Kelly. Dad stepped in and got the tar beaten out of him. He was literally vomiting blood afterward. That’s when Grandma decided to leave him. She was a single mom until my dad was sixteen, when she met Frank who’s been awesome.”
“Oh wow,” Elise murmured. “I had no idea.”
“I guess he still carries a lot of baggage from that time. Kinda makes sense why he went all nuts over Kelly’s death and why he’s still hoarding her stuff.” I walked to the nearest box labeled “Kelly” and carefully lifted it. “Let’s get this to my room where we can look through it.”
Elise opened the door, then followed me down the dark hallway to my bedroom. We removed the stuff from the box, careful to lay everything in order on the floor so we could put it back just as it was. All we found were some ratty stuffed animals, a few books, and a bunch of school papers.
The next box held some medals, a uniform that smelled like twenty-years' worth of sweat and mold, old socks, a stack of pictures, and Kelly’s high school yearbooks. Going into the hallway for box number three, I caught the scent of freshly baked carrot-muffins. Would Elise be willing to eat one if she knew there were veggies in them?
When we opened the next box, she and I found stacks of paper. We divided them into two piles and got to work sorting through them. Judging by the amount of mundane notes, anyone could have guessed that Kelly lived in the days before text messaging. She’d also been through a lot of crushes.
“If I read one more word about Bryan Decker or Tate Collins and their cute behinds, I’m going to barf,” I moaned.
Chuckling Elise lifted a page and said, “I think I might have found something. There are a few letters here from my dad to Kelly. They’re um kind of…Well, I guess I just always thought my mom was the first person he fell in love with. I think I might have been wrong.”
“Want me to read them instead, and you can tackle the Bryan and Tate pile?” I held out a hand.
“Yes please.”
We exchanged stacks, and I gave her a devious grin.
“What are you smiling for?”
“You just let me help you.”
Of course, she rolled her eyes.
“Hey, why did you shoot me down the other night when I invited you into my concert?” I blurted before I could chicken out.
“I was in the middle of a run. Besides, I had Bessey, and I doubt the health club allows dogs.” Elise scanned her letters to avoid looking at me.
“Uh-uh.” I reached to cover the words. “I think it was more than that. Besides, the club was closed. I could’ve let you in through the side gate, and no-one would have cared.”
She still didn’t look up. This was pushing it; she was going to tell me to step off. Maybe even say she hated me. Fine then, I just needed to know.
“Wow, Bryan Decker must have had a really great backside.” Elise gave a nervous laugh.
How was she still reading with my hand blocking the words?
I let the silence stretch further, though it was hard not to notice the smell of her pale-yellow hair beneath my nose, fruity and flowery at the same time. Her ponytail looked so soft that it would probably feel like silk in my fingers.
“I don’t know, Dylan. People just aren’t safe to me. I don’t like to do something when it feels like there’s a risk of getting hurt."
What did that mean?
When she didn’t say anything else, or even move, I scooted back to my spot. “Okay, Elise, you win. One date.”
Now, she looked at me.
“I will stop pushing you to open up after you give me one date.”
“I'm not sure. To be honest, I’ve never been on a date before. What if it’s awkward and awful and then coaching together becomes awkward and awful?"
This girl was amazingly good at avoiding eye-contact when sensitive subjects came up.
“Come on, it would be epic. Plus, it would get me to stop bugging you.”
She snorted.
“What, you don’t think I can leave you alone?”
“Did you forget we coach together twice a day, plus I got roped into helping you with your English?”
“Fair, but I could be aloof.”
Another snort.
“Well, I guess you’re just going to have to give me a chance then and see for yourself.”
No response. Time to stop pushing before I totally overwhelmed her.
Inhaling, I turned to Dave’s letters to Kelly. How could I imagine him as anything other than a middle-aged coach and Elise’s Dad? Reading his and Kelly’s love notes to each other made me want to crawl out of my skin.
This letter was… gross. Did guys regularly spew that kind of mushy garbage at girls? I’d had a girlfriend for a little while back in Arizona, but I’d never talked to her like that.
Next came a note that was probably from when they’d just started dating. Dave asked how Kelly was doing and if he could come over and see her sometime, check to see if she was alright. Nothing too personal beside that he missed having her around, and “the gang” wasn’t the same without her.
“Hey, I think I found something,” I said after skimming the next letter.
When Elise joined me, I pointed to the center of the page.
Kelly, I’m really worried about you. The chest pains you’ve been having aren’t normal. The fact that you’re having them during and right after workouts makes me wonder if the drugs are affecting your heart, especially when you exercise.
This is dangerous. I’ve been doing some research, and I have decided to stop taking them. When Coach gives the needle to me, I’m just pretending to use it, then squirting out the stuff in the sink and trashing the syringe. You could do the same thing. I know Carter’s been pushing you super hard to keep taking the EPO, but he’s just using you.
Carter doesn’t care what happens to any of us, he only cares about how we make him look. That’s why he tells you to ignore it and that it’s not a big deal when your chest hurts. He’s not a doctor; he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.
Babe, you’re the most important thing in the world to me. I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you. Please stop using before you get really hurt.
Love,
Dave
“So Carter did know the drugs were hurting Kelly,” Elise said. “He tried to make it sound like Kelly was using more of them than he wanted her to, but this makes it seem like the opposite.”
“The guy’s a slug,” I said. “If we need to go back to talk to him, can we hit his mutt with a tranquilizer dart before going in?”
She laughed. “Definitely, but before we drive all the way back to LA, I think we should talk to Pete. “He was there and was probably using the drugs too. I’ve been wondering what he has to say about all of this.”
"Good idea. We have another race on our home course tomorrow. You could pop in to cheer, maybe even jump into the girl’s race and show them what’s up. Then, we can have a little chat.”
“Not happening. They would probably pull me off the field if I tried.”
“True, but I really want to see the look on Sophie’s face after you kick her butt.”
“She does deserve to have her trash handed to her, but that’s not why I run. Besides, what’s it with you and kicking everyone’s butts?”
“What can I say; I come to win. What I want to know is why you run then.” I turned to watch her fully.
“Honestly, I’m still figuring that out. I do love it, but there’s something more there…Wait a minute, I thought you were supposed to stop pushing me to open up.”
I wagged my finger. “Date first.”
“We’ll see,” she hedged.
I was tempted to try for more of a commitment, but I decided to let it go. Elise was definitely warming up to me. That would have to be enough, at least for now.