Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
MADELINE
Luke takes a step back as he asks the question. It’s one I don’t have an answer for, but I know I can’t leave it be.
“Maybe we call the cops?” Grant suggests, picking up a baseball off Luke’s desk and tossing it into the air.
“No,” both Luke and I say at the same time. I’m guessing for different reasons.
“I don’t want the cops sniffing around Madeline,” Luke says.
“You really think they’d believe she killed her because she snuck into her office one time?
” Georgia asks. I’m sure Georgia is on team “tell the police,” but we’re past that point, aren’t we?
If that were the case, then wouldn’t we have done it last night?
They will grill us as to why we didn’t. That’s drama I don’t need because it might affect my sister.
I’m already entangled in a murder, even though I’ve only been at school for a few days. I’m also an outsider. They would pin that shit on me for sure. I can’t get one of those fancy lawyers either.
“I don’t want to,” I tell Georgia, and she gives a small nod, letting me know she’s okay with what I choose.
“But you also can’t leave it alone, can you?” Luke drops down into an oversized chair by the window, though it’s not so oversized for him. He pulls out and clicks away on his phone, reading disinterestedly now.
“You don’t have to help,” I blurt out way too defensively. I don’t want him to help me. I also don’t need him to. Liar.
“You think I’m going to let you two run around playing detective?” Luke nods between Georgia and me. “It’s not happening.”
“You want to bet?”
“Buttercup, this isn’t one you want to challenge me on.
” He drops his phone into his lap, leaning forward and putting his elbow on his knees.
His eyes lock on to mine, that laid-back, I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude I can’t stand slipping away.
Is it an act? Why do I kind of want it to be?
I’m losing it. I want him to back down, and when he does, I’m annoyed.
I lick my suddenly dry lips at his intensity. Does he want to do this or not?
“You don’t even care.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He tosses my own words right back at me. Why does it burn, and why do I care? Stay focused, Madeline, I remind myself. I can’t let a boy distract me or get in my head. There are bigger issues at hand here. Someone is dead.
“It doesn’t matter, but you want to help.” I don’t get it, but then again, when it comes to Luke, I don’t understand many things, and that’s not all on him, if I’m honest with myself. Which I really don’t want to be.
“Use whatever phrasing you need to come to terms with it.” I open and then close my mouth.
I’m normally quick with my retorts, but this one caught me off guard, as Luke always does.
Right when I think I’m getting my footing with him or the upper hand, he manages to shift in a direction I wouldn’t have predicted. It’s annoying and intriguing.
“Fine.” I shrug my shoulders. “You can help.”
He smirks, letting me know he already knew that.
“Wait, so you guys want to try and figure out what is going on?” Georgia’s expression is skeptical. “Like who did it? I just want to be clear here because that’s kind of crazy.”
“We could do nothing,” Grant offers.
“That’s not going to work for me.” I can’t not tell the cops and pretend I didn’t see a dead woman. That’s not who I am even if I wanted to be. It will drive me crazy while simultaneously eating at me.
“I know,” Georgia says in understanding. The world is a terrible place because of the people that choose to look away, and I won’t be one of those people. It already bothers me that I might have looked away far more than I should have when it came to my father’s depression and drinking.
“Then what’s your plan, Kate Warne?” Luke asks me.
“I like that more than Buttercup.” Georgia smiles. Guess these two are all chummy now. That should make me happy. I told Luke not to be a dick to her, but damn.
“Kate Warne?” Grant asks what I myself was wondering too.
“She was the first female detective. She actually saved Abraham Lincoln’s life,” Georgia tells us.
“He was assassinated.” I state the obvious because that much I know.
“He was, but she saved him the first time. Four years prior to his death.”
“By Booth in the theater with a gun?”
“You got it,” Georgia laughs. I find it very intriguing that Luke knows all about Kate Warne. I’m starting to think there is a whole lot more to Luke. Great, he’s smart too.
“So?” Luke asks again.
“Be careful putting me in charge.”
“Thought you already were.”
“And you’ll go along?” I ask him, knowing I do want his help.
“If I don’t go, you don’t go,” he states in a tone I haven’t heard from him before.
“Excuse me?” What the hell does that mean?
“Time is ticking. Aren’t the first forty-eight hours the most important during an investigation?”
“Yes,” Georgia answers for me. Not that I knew the answer. “Solving the case is cut in half if you don’t get a lead in time.”
“Then we should get cracking.” Luke stands. “Where to, Buttercup?” I think for a moment, not sure.
“When you’re not sure what to do next, you go back to the beginning.”
“The boathouse.” Luke confirms what I’m saying.
“What are you hoping to find at the boathouse?” Georgia asks.
“It’s the only thing we have to go on really. We see if we missed anything yesterday. Take a more thorough look around.”
“I could search online too about her. Social media and things.”
“That’s a good idea. It will clue us in to who she hung out with and the places she went to often.
” Georgia nods in agreement, and I know her mind is going full throttle in a million different directions now that’s she’s all in with me on this.
“Can we go to the boathouse, or will that be an issue?”
“I mean, Caleb’s place is a party house for the most part, but a bunch of the team went to Devil’s Lake tonight.” Luke says.
“Why aren’t you two at Devil’s Lake?” I ask, more curiously than I should.
“I have to babysit Luke,” Grant quips, making me snort a laugh. No one else finds this funny.
“Wait, are you really babysitting him?”
“Get paid twenty an hour.”
“Now I know you’re lying,” Georgia says. “Twenty an hour wouldn’t be enough.”
“Ahh!” I laugh hard not just because it’s funny but also because she said it in front of a group. Get it, Georgia, putting herself out there more. It’s showing.
Georgia’s face flushes; I’m sure she’s surprised at the words that came out of her mouth.
“I gave you my Banana Kicks.” Luke puts his hand over his heart, pretending to be wounded. A tentative smile forms on Georgia’s lips.
Is he teasing and lightening the mood for her because of me, or am I now reading into everything?
“I mean, she’s not wrong.” Grant’s comment causes Georgia to flush again, but this time for different reasons. I’ll need to investigate that later too.
“Who’s driving?” I ask.
“I can,” Grant offers.
“You’re coming?” Georgia asks him.
“I’m a team player.” Grant stands too.
“We should take two vehicles,” Luke says, standing up from the chair. “Less suspicious if we’re not all rolling up in one car.”
“More cars, more attention?” I counter.
“We go in couples. That way it appears like we’re on dates.” I’m not convinced, but I’ll go with it. Luke knows this area and how people operate around here better than I do.
“So Madeline and I can go together,” Georgia starts to say, her eyes flicking over to me.
“No,” Luke cuts in. “You and Grant take his truck. Madeline rides with me.”
Georgia raises an eyebrow, looking between us. “Because?”
“Because if anyone sees us, Madeline and I need to look like we’re doing something other than investigating a murder.” Luke grabs his keys from his desk, not bothering to elaborate.
“And what exactly are you two going to look like you’re doing?” Grant asks, though the smirk on his face suggests he already knows.
Luke doesn’t answer. He just looks at me, waiting to see if I’ll argue.
I don’t. The logic is sound, even if his motives aren’t entirely clear, and I’m pretty sure Georgia was more worried about being paired with Luke.
“Fine. But we’re not actually—”
“We’re a couple,” Luke says, cutting me off. “If we’re seen walking toward the boathouse together, it needs to look like we’re sneaking off to be alone. Not sneaking off to be nosy.”
My face heats. “That’s your plan? Fake a make-out session as cover?”
“It’s not a plan. It’s a contingency.” He heads for the door, expecting me to follow. “Unless you’ve got a better idea for why we’d be heading to a secluded boathouse at night on someone else’s property.”
I don’t. And the fact that he’s thought this through, that he’s already considered how to sell our presence there, makes me wonder what else he’s calculated in that head of his.
We ride in silence for the first few minutes. Luke drives a black SUV that smells like leather and something faintly metallic, maybe his cologne or the gym bag I spot in the back seat. The radio plays low, some alternative rock station that neither of us reaches to change.
“Your sister,” he says finally, not taking his eyes off the road. “The one you’re worried about. The cops would use her against you?”
I tense. “I don’t want to talk about my sister.” I don’t know him or trust him well enough to go there.
“You brought her up.”
“I said it might affect her. That’s not the same as inviting questions.”
He glances at me, just a quick flick of his eyes before they’re back on the winding road. “Fair enough.”
We’re quiet again until Caleb’s house comes into view, but Luke turns before we get to it. “We’ll come in from the lake side. His family doesn’t own the lake; they just have a dock on it.” Luke answers my unspoken question.
Luke pulls in beside it and kills the engine. “Remember. Couple.”
“I remember.” I unbuckle my seat belt, my heart already beating faster. Not from the prospect of touching him, I tell myself. From the danger. The dead body we found. The killer who might still be nearby.
Grant and Georgia are supposed to lag behind, waiting for word from us. We didn’t want to all show up at the same time.
We walk toward the boathouse side by side, close enough that our shoulders brush. I’m only so close because I’m playing a part. Luke’s hand finds the small of my back, casual and proprietary, and I force myself not to flinch. He’s selling it.
The door to the boathouse is slightly ajar.
Luke stills, his hand pressing more firmly against my spine.
His head cocks to the side, his face growing serious.
Then I hear it too. Footsteps inside, the creak of wood.
Someone is in there. Without a word, Luke pulls me against him.
His other hand cups my face, tilting my chin up, and then his mouth is on mine.
It’s not gentle. It’s not the exploratory first kiss of two people feeling each other out.
It screams of an intimate couple with passion.
It’s hard and demanding, the kind of kiss that says we’re busy, keep walking to anyone who might see.
It’s perfect. I mean for the situation we’re in.
Not because I like it or anything. I’m also just playing a part here.
I should push him away. I should remember why we’re here, what we’re hiding from.
Instead, I kiss him back, loving the warm heat of his body, the solid wall of his chest against mine. His hand slides into my hair, tangling, angling my head where he wants it so he can deepen the kiss more, taking full control. I shouldn’t enjoy that, but it’s oddly freeing.
I grip his shirt, pulling him closer, and I can feel him smile against my mouth, pleased and predatory. The footsteps inside the boathouse pause. Whoever is in there has definitely noticed us at this point. The door creaks open wider.
Luke doesn’t stop kissing me, his tongue tracing my lower lip, and I make a sound I don’t mean to make. This is acting. This is a cover. This is—
“Damn, I guess Luke wins the bet for banging the new girl.” Lana’s voice cuts through like ice water.
Luke breaks the kiss slowly, like he resents the interruption, his hand still in my hair as he turns to face her.
“Didn’t realize the boathouse had a bouncer.”
Lana stands in the doorway, arms crossed, her expression caught between disgust and something sharper. Suspicion.
Wait, what did she say? Win for banging the new girl? I’ll cut his fucking dick off. Then he’ll be dead in the boathouse too.
“What are you two doing here?” Lana lets out an annoyed huff. I want to know why she’s here.
“Same thing you are, apparently,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “Except there is no bet on who will fuck you because they all already did.”
Lana’s eyes narrow. She doesn’t believe us. Or she doesn’t want to. “That’s romantic. Enjoying everyone’s sloppy seconds of Luke.” I hate that her words are getting to me. I want to throat-punch her and Luke.
Luke’s hand tightens in my hair, a warning. Don’t engage. Don’t give her anything.
But Lana’s already stepping forward, her gaze sweeping the area behind us, looking for something. Looking for Grant and Georgia, maybe. Or looking for whatever she came here to find.
“You should go,” she says, and it’s not a suggestion. “This isn’t a place for sloppy hookups.”
“And it’s a place for whatever you’re doing?” I shoot back.
“This is my town, new girl. My school. I know every corner of it. Every secret.” Her eyes linger on Luke. “You two should be more careful about where you choose to... couple up. Some secrets bite back.”
Lana pushes past us, her shoulder knocking mine hard enough to sting, and disappears into the darkness, going back up toward Caleb’s house.
Luke doesn’t let go of me immediately. His hand stays in my hair, his body still pressed close, and I can feel his heart beating fast against my chest. Or maybe that’s mine.
“She knows something,” I whisper.
“She knows everything,” Luke murmurs back. “That’s the problem.”
He finally steps back, putting space between us, and the night air feels cold where he was warm. “Come on. Let’s see what she was looking for.”
Luke takes my hand, leading me inside the boathouse, where I want to find answers, except now all the answers I want center around Luke and Lana.