25. Margo
Chapter 25
Margo
L enora finds me in the hallway.
On the floor.
She falls to her knees beside me, grabbing at my shoulders. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
I point toward my room with a shaky hand. The door has swung almost all the way closed, leaving just a crack visible. It’s all I can focus on, although I’d rather close my eyes. Scrub them out and forget I ever came back here.
Home . Someone clearly disagrees.
She stands and forces my door open farther, her hand flying to her mouth.
Robert makes it to the top of the stairs then, coming toward me.
“Robert,” Lenora gasps.
He helps me to my feet, and I follow him closer.
My room is a wreck.
Destroyed.
My mattress is off the box spring, ripped to shreds. Bits of foam and feathers from the sliced pillows coat the floor. The box spring is splintered, one leg completely demolished. And my bookshelf… Every book has been thrown off the case, some pages torn out, crumpled.
But the worst part is the red paint, resembling a murder scene. It’s splashed across the walls, the floor, the books. My desk. The window.
And on the wall, a message.
Pretty bird, broken wings. Oh, what a glorious fall .
He takes my hand. “Len, call the detective. Let’s just close this off…”
He tugs me out of the room.
I gasp for air.
Pretty bird.
Where have I heard that before? Who’s called me that?
“Detective Masters, this is Lenora Bryan…” Her voice fades as she goes down the stairs.
“Is this related to who took you?” Robert asks.
That would make sense. We’ve been digging into my stalker.
Is this a warning?
Unknown calling me out for…
I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
“Let’s go downstairs,” he suggests, guiding me away.
I stop short at one of the framed photos. There’s a faint spot of red on the glass, like whoever painted the message in my room came out here and took their sweet time leaving.
Robert doesn’t notice my distraction.
“I’m going to the bathroom.” I quickly withdraw. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”
He nods. “Take your time.”
I duck into the bathroom until I hear him talking to Lenora. Then I back into the hallway and lift the photo from the wall.
Isabella hid a note behind one of these. It could be irrelevant, but…
This particular photo is one of the new ones. It’s Caleb, Eli, Riley, and me from the masquerade ball. One of the few where we weren’t wearing our masks.
The red spot—a fingerprint, I realize upon closer inspection—is right over my face.
Erasing me completely.
Pretty bird, broken wings. Oh, what a glorious fall .
I tighten my grip on it.
How dare they come in here and threaten me? After everything?—
I shake my head, knowing that line of thinking is foolish. They won’t just stop . Unknown won’t stop until they get what they want.
And… what is it that they want, exactly? To run me out of town. To stay away. And more specifically, to stay away from Caleb.
Why?
Because I might ruin his focus at hockey or turn him on a different path for his future? Because I might capture his attention, unlike Unknown?
“Margo?” Lenora calls. “The detective is here.”
I race into the hall and rehang the picture. If he notices, he notices. If he doesn’t, well…
“Ms. Wolfe,” Detective Masters greets me.
I shake his hand. He makes me nervous, even though I’ve done nothing wrong. Maybe it’s the fact that he arrested Caleb without any real cause, then seemed to forget about any other leads. No more follow up.
“Did you find anything from the car that hit Robert and me?” I ask.
His stare is criticizing. “No.”
“Have you even been trying to find it?”
“I’m not at liberty to say,” the detective answers. “Your room was vandalized? Would you mind showing me?”
I take a deep breath and point to my door. “See for yourself.”
Robert wraps his arm around me. “We’d rather not…”
“Understandable, sir.” Masters puts on a pair of gloves, then gingerly opens the door. He sucks in a breath. “That sure is something.”
We wait in the hall as he takes a closer look. Lenora chews on her lower lip, more stressed out than I’ve ever seen her.
“I locked the door every time I left,” she said. “I just don’t understand it. We have an alarm!”
The detective reappears. “What’s your alarm hooked up to?”
“The first-floor doors and windows,” she says. “We only set it when we’re gone. Maybe that’s foolish, but?—”
“There’s some scuffing on the outer edge of the windowsill,” he interrupts. “The vandal probably went in and out the window. Is anything else missing?”
“I’ll check our room.” Lenora slips past us, down the hall.
I try not to panic. Caleb came in and out of there so many times… if the detective finds even his fingerprint out there, he’ll automatically assume it was him.
“Why would someone do this?” Robert asks. “Target Margo?”
Masters eyes me. “You piss anyone off?”
“Just a stalker,” I say, half joking. And then I realize what I just admitted… I had told the detective about Unknown when I was in the hospital. But, according to him, they couldn’t do anything unless they knew who it was. The messages weren’t threatening enough to warrant the phone company to release the blocked number either.
I never told Robert, though.
“Excuse me?”
I wince. “I’ve just been getting some… unsavory texts.” And phone calls. And I was kidnapped. And I’ve been feeling like I’m being watched all the time .
No big deal.
“What can we do about this?” Robert demands.
“Margo filed a complaint in the hospital,” Masters answers. “So it’s on record. But until something?—”
“Please do not be about to say something worse,” Robert snaps. “And what does your office plan to do about this?”
“We’ll have a cruiser do some drive-bys for the next week, to make sure you all are safe.” Detective Masters glances at me. “Has anything else happened?”
I cross my arms over my chest. What would I admit to, a creepy-crawly feeling occasionally?
“No.”
He nods like he expected that answer. “I’m going to take some photos, have a look outside, and we’ll go from there.”
Lenora reappears.
“Nothing is missing. Not even a hair out of place.” She shudders. “After this is over, we’re redoing that room. New window with many locks. Whatever furniture or paint you want. Anything?—”
“It’s okay,” I whisper.
Masters goes back into my room, and the Bryans and I go downstairs. I perch on a stool at the breakfast bar while Lenora paces the kitchen. And Robert lowers himself onto the couch, groaning under his breath.
This really isn’t fair. Not by a mile.
My phone has been silent. No new messages from Riley or Caleb—nothing from Unknown either.
Detective Masters comes back downstairs. “You don’t have any idea who might’ve done this? Or what the words on the wall meant?”
I shake my head. “I thought it had to be someone from school, since they texted Caleb and warned him that Ian was taking me into the woods. And they were at a party at Ian’s house, too. But lately…”
The car belonging to Tobias, who’s a known associate of the Ashers, is just too coincidental.
“I don’t know,” I finish lamely.
“This is probably enough to find out the number that’s been texting you,” he says. “I’ll take some photos outside, then head back to the station and work on that. I’ll be in touch.”
Lenora nods sharply. “Thank you, Detective.”
We sit in silence for a moment.
Police aren’t the bad guys in this situation. I’ve had my fair share of fear when it comes to cops—especially that one time I ran away—and Detective Masters does have a tendency to look down his nose at me, whether because I’m a foster or a teenager, I don’t know.
Still. Worth a shot.
I get up and rush after him, outside without even a coat on.
He’s under my window in the middle of the lawn. His eyebrows shoot up when he spots me. “Ms. Wolfe?”
“I have a… theory.”
He waves for me to continue.
“How does a public defender rise to partner at a big law firm in two years?”
Detective Masters says nothing.
“When I asked Tobias Hutchins that very question?—”
He holds up his hand. “When did you meet him?”
“Riley and I went to his office in the city. He defended my dad—badly. If you know anything about that trial?—”
“I was a rookie.” He seems to contemplate something. His gaze goes to the cloudy sky. “Let’s go back inside. You’ve intrigued me.”
Hope flares inside my chest. And hope? It’s a dangerous thing. It can lift you up and drop you when you least expect it.
So I shove the hope away and remain cautious. Lenora and Robert both start to ask questions when I walk back in, but they’re silenced by the detective’s reappearance.
Masters follows me into the dining room. My painting of Caleb is on the floor in the corner, but he makes no comment about it.
“Okay,” he says once we’ve sat. “Let’s hear it.”
“You know I lived with my parents in the Asher guest house. My mom and his dad were having an affair, which apparently everyone knew except me and…” I shake my head. “I was upstairs in Caleb’s room one day—before I found out about the affair—and I heard Mrs. Asher talking to someone.”
“Someone. How old were you?”
I wince. “I had just turned ten.”
“Okay, so, we’re dealing with unreliable memory.”
“Yeah… I didn’t know who she was talking to, but I remember the guy was upset about what she was asking him to do. She said she was paying him enough. I mentioned it to Caleb, and he told me it was Tobias. That’s how, when Caleb and I ran into Tobias in the city in October, Tobias knew Caleb.” I pause and suck in a deep breath.
“So you’ve established a relationship between your dad’s lawyer and the Ashers. Go on.”
“Why would he have a car in the city? Does he drive it a lot?”
The detective smiles. “You’re asking the right questions, at least. And I’m going to humor you.” He flips through his notebook. “I talked to Mr. Hutchins myself. He said the car was stored in a garage, and he was planning on a Sunday drive to visit family when he noticed it missing.”
I grunt. “It’s too neat. He reports it missing mere hours before it’s involved in my…”
“Or it’s good timing, and we avoided a lot of hassle because he did notice.”
“You’re supposed to be humoring me.”
He sighs. “Margo, I’ll humor you as far as logic will allow. But reaching for pieces of facts to make them fit your theory is bad detective work.”
Like you did with Caleb? I bite my tongue instead of spitting out that accusation.
“Okay, okay.” I sigh. “You don’t find it fishy that there’s a link from Lydia to Tobias?”
His eyes bore into mine. “I agree, there’s a connection there. But what of it?”
“Why would Lydia Asher have a relationship with my father’s lawyer?”
“Is that your whole theory?”
I raise my eyebrow. “Honestly? Yeah. I have no idea who Unknown is, just that they’re probably my age. Which means they’re someone who knows Lydia and goes to Emery-Rose.”
“Matt Bonner went to Emery-Rose,” Robert says from the doorway.
I jump.
“He transferred, but I suspect he knows quite a few kids at your school. Still friends, even.” Robert frowns. “You mentioned he had some hand helping Caleb with a project, Margo? Sorry, that’s unhelpful.”
Oh my God.
Matt was the one who led us to the diner. To my mother and Lydia Asher. Of course he went to Emery-Rose. It was how he and Caleb became friends.
Which means he probably knows Lydia.
White spots flash in front of my eyes. I blink hard and swallow, trying to get rid of the light-headedness.
“Quite all right,” Masters says. “How are you feeling?”
Robert lets out a small chuckle. “Like someone scraped through my insides with a blade. I’ll be fine in due time.”
“You’re welcome to join us.” The detective motions to a chair. “You knew Matt?”
“Not personally.” Robert lowers himself into the seat next to me. “What are you chatting about? Besides Matt.”
“He has to be working with Lydia,” I insist.
Masters shakes his head. “Where’s the motive? She moved away after the trial and would have no reason to… what, exactly? And the other factor: usually kidnappers call the family with demands. A ransom. That didn’t happen.”
“Because Caleb and Eli found me.”
“A burner phone texted Caleb’s phone with coordinates. That’s how he found you.” Masters pats the table. “I understand that you want to connect Bonner to this, but you’re grasping at straws.”
“Margo has had a crazy few weeks,” Robert says softly.
“You don’t think the person who has been texting me and who kidnapped me—apparently without an actual reason—was the one to do that to my room?” I shoot to my feet, except there’s nowhere to go. “And you don’t believe that Matt Bonner could be that person?”
“I’ll dig around the Ashers, see if I can find anything suspicious, okay?”
“Is this the first time?”
His eyebrows scrunch. “The first time for what?”
“That anyone has ever looked into the Ashers?” I shake my head. “Caleb’s uncle has been beating him since he was a kid. But I guess it’s all too easy for the Asher family to sweep everything under the fucking rug.”
“If that’s true?—”
“ Fuck your truth,” I yell. I storm out and up the stairs, locking myself in the bathroom. I grab my bag on the way, sinking to the floor once I’m alone.
God, I just yelled at a police detective. He was going to help me, but I probably just ruined any chance of that.
I slide my phone out. I stare at it, debating calling Riley.
But wasn’t it me who said Caleb and I needed to work together?
That means relying on him sometimes.
Me
You remember anyone calling me a pretty bird?
Caleb
?? No. Why?
Someone wrote it on my wall. It’s bugging me.
His contact picture fills my screen, showing the incoming video chat request. I wipe at my face, then answer it.
He frowns at me. His phone is held at a low angle that shows off his sharp jawline. “Please tell me I read that wrong.”
“I wish.”
“Have you been crying?” He seems to be home, but now he’s climbing the steps out of the basement.
“Do I look it?” I fixate on the tiny picture of me in the corner, wondering if he sees something I don’t. My eyes do seem a bit puffy, and my face is pale.
“You’re upset. I can tell that much.”
I sigh. “Unknown vandalized my room. Destroyed everything.”
He loses all expression. “You’re joking.”
“Why would I be joking? Lenora called Detective Masters. He was just here.”
The phone drops, and all I can see is the black fabric of his shirt. “Guys.”
When he shifts his phone, he shows me Eli, Liam, and Theo.
“All hands on deck, right?” he says.
“What’s going on?” Liam demands. “You okay, Wolfe?”
“My room got vandalized.” My damn voice wobbles.
A muscle in Caleb’s jaw clenches. “We’ll be there in five minutes. You guys shouldn’t be alone.”
Someone knocks on the bathroom door, and I freeze.
“Margo, it’s Detective Masters. I took some pictures of the room and am heading out. Just wanted to let you know that I’m going to look into what we discussed.”
“Thanks,” I call.
Caleb stares at me. “Can’t wait to hear what you discussed .”
“The police are supposed to be the good guys,” I whisper.
He just shakes his head. They’re outside now, and someone is yelling after them. Theo yells back, but the words are snatched away on the wind.
“We’ll be there soon, okay?”
I nod, and he hangs up.
My head falls back on the door. I don’t know what the hell we’re going to do. What can we do? We’re teenagers. Kids, really.
My eyes fill with tears. The whole situation is hopeless.
See what I said about hope? It can drop you.
Real fast.