Chapter 37
Thirty-Seven
I stare at Easton, waiting for the punch line. Because that’s all this is, right? He’s joking. Easton was the one who came
to me and admitted that he’d thought I was dead.
Nate.
He told me he’d thought Nate was dead.
Because he gave up on him and blamed himself.
“This isn’t funny,” I say.
JT points to me but doesn’t look over. “Yeah, I’m with Nate.”
“I’m telling you,” Easton says, his voice calm and collected. “That’s not Nate. It’s some other kid who is pretending to be
him. And I think it’s time he tells us why.”
“Sure,” JT says. “Go ahead, Nate, tell him why you’re not you.” JT clearly doesn’t believe Easton either.
“I don’t know what he’s talking about.” I’m still trying to figure out where this is coming from. Easton has to have some
weird ulterior motive here. There’s no way he killed Nate; he was ten years old when Nate disappeared.
Easton heads back to the cliff edge and looks out to the water below.
“Fine,” he says. “I guess I’ll tell my side of the story first.”
He’s so calm and it’s really starting to scare me. It’s a warm night but I feel cold. My legs are shaking.
This can’t be true. He’s got to be lying, trying to get me to crack because he has a hunch I’m not Nate.
“What about the onions?” I ask.
JT groans. “I’m so fucking confused.”
Easton isn’t, though. He looks over at me like he can’t believe how stupid I am. “The onions? I made that up. And Mom is such a desperate fucking loser she pretended to remember. I mean, sure, Nate probably hated onions,
but they’re vegetables. What kid likes vegetables?”
“I like veggies,” JT says.
“You’re starting to believe me now, aren’t you?” Easton asks me, ignoring JT.
I shake my head. “Listen, I know you’re pissed off at me, but I don’t get why you would—”
“I am,” Easton says. His voice is low and calm.
“I worked so fucking hard to plan out what would happen if they ever found Nate’s body, but then you came along to ruin it.
And now you and that talentless nobody next door are trying to dig around.
I heard you the other night. Not everything needs to be about the investigation.
Now tell me. Which investigation would that be? ”
I don’t know what to say because this is worse than being caught for pretending to be Nate. Easton finding out I’ve been investigating
his family is a whole other horrific twist.
I still don’t fully believe him, though.
This is just him taking out his frustration on me, it has to be.
Easton was a kid when Nate disappeared. He knows people think his family was involved in Nate’s disappearance, and now he learns the person he thought was his brother isn’t really his brother and he’s been investigating his family.
“So why wouldn’t you just tell everyone I’m not Nate, then?” I ask.
“Because I’m not trying to get caught. I had someone to blame, I had a plan. If I expose you, the rest of us are under scrutiny. I tried to tell Dad—my dad—to end this the day you came home, but he wouldn’t go for it because he was worried about my mom having another fucking
mental breakdown. But at first even he didn’t fall for your shit.”
The conversation I overheard the first day at the Beaumont house. Easton was trying to get Marcus to do a DNA test on me.
“But now, because you’ve been here for weeks and have been doing your own little investigation, we’ll look complicit if I
tell the cops you’re a fake. Who in their right minds would let a stranger pretending to be their kid into their home? Someone
who doesn’t want to be blamed for that kid’s disappearance, maybe?”
JT’s weed must be giving him some clarity because he’s looking at me as though I’m a puzzle he’s trying to figure out.
“And now,” Easton says, “it will look like we’re the ones who found you and got you to do all this. My mom fought to make
sure you weren’t going to be DNA tested because she was so deluded that she didn’t want the truth to burst her bubble. Or . . .
depending on how the cops see it, she didn’t want the police to prove that you aren’t her son. Why do you think she’d do that?”
Wait. Is he saying Valencia is involved?
Okay, let’s say Easton did kill Nate—he was ten years old. He could have done it by accident and maybe they didn’t want Easton to go to prison so they helped him cover it up.
Shit.
“Wait.” JT holds up his hands in a time-out gesture. “I need everyone to be real for a second. This is a bit, right?”
Easton shakes his head. “It’s not a bit, John Thomas.”
JT finally looks up at Easton. “You killed your brother?” Easton nods. JT sticks a thumb in my direction. “And this guy is
an imposter your parents hired?”
Easton shakes his head. “No. This is an idiot who decided to bust his way into our family, pretending to be Nate. And now
we’re going to find out why.”
JT stands up and shakes his head. “I’m way too high for this.”
“Thought you might be,” Easton says.
I can’t do anything but sit here and tremble. Being exposed is so much worse than I imagined. Probably because I really thought
Easton was a nice big brother.
Is it possible he’s still bluffing?
“So you killed Nate?” JT asks. “Why?”
“Because I wanted to,” Easton says. His voice gives me another chill. And now I don’t think he’s lying. “At first, I was only
curious to see if I could. But once I started, I realized I wanted to.” He turns away from us.
“Dude.” JT’s voice is low and serious. “I lied for you.”
Lied?
“You did,” Easton says. “Thank you for that, by the way. Having an alibi definitely helped take suspicion off me, though to be fair the suspicion was barely there to begin with.” Of course.
Easton wasn’t home because he was at JT’s.
At least, that’s what the articles said.
And JT confirmed Easton’s story because he thought he was being a good friend.
JT shakes his head. “You said you were at the playground and you didn’t want to get in trouble for not watching him.” He’s
finally putting together that he helped his best friend get away with murder. He turns to me and gives me a look I don’t recognize.
Maybe it’s a can you believe this? look, or a we need to run look. And no I can’t, but yes we need to.
I stand up.
And now I can see over JT’s shoulder.
Easton has turned back around to face us. And he’s grinning.
In his left hand, he has the craggy rock he was nudging with his foot.
“Look out!”
But it’s too late.
Easton bashes the rock into the back of JT’s skull before the words even leave my mouth. It lands with a sickening, wet thud
and JT drops to the ground. His eyes roll back and his legs and arms start to spasm as blood pools around his shaking head.
I put my hands over my mouth. I want to scream but I can’t. Thunder rumbles again in the distance, but it’s louder now. I
step back as Easton straddles JT. He smiles up at me as he raises the rock above his head.
He keeps his eyes on me, but when he brings the rock down on JT’s head again he still hits his target.
JT’s skull caves inward and his spasms stop.
Easton stands, tossing the rock over the edge of the cliff. My legs give out and I drop to my knees. My shaking hands are
still covering my mouth like they’re the only thing that’s keeping my screams in. But I can’t speak.
I can’t make a sound.
Easton says something but I don’t hear it. I can’t look away from JT’s body. His eyes are open and blood spills from his nose
and ears. He’s dead. Easton killed him. Which means Easton absolutely killed Nate. He killed Nate, told his parents and the
police he was with JT—who corroborated the story like a good friend because, like me, he never imagined Easton capable of
murder.
Easton steps forward, standing over me. He has a few speckles of blood on his chin and jaw.
“So,” he says, checking his hands for blood before putting them on his hips. “Do you believe me now?”