Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
LUKE
The copier light is bright, each flash bleaching Rebecca’s face, making it appear a little more ghostly. Or maybe I’ve been in this basement for too long, and I’m seeing shit.
Madeline feeds the last clipping into the tray. One that I can’t get out of my head. Local Man Questioned, Released.
I can tell my girl is trying not to flinch each time it flashes, the noises of the machine bouncing off the walls. Yeah, we’re on edge after all the shit we found. I also need to put in a request for the cops to pay us when we’re done doing their jobs.
Between Madeline and Georgia, they’re on a roll. I’ve never seen people be able to read shit so quickly, but they did. When I asked how the hell they were doing it, they both said romance books.
All right. The two of them barely have to talk, but oh, they’re fucking talking without words. That shit was starting to get under my skin. Now I’m jealous of Georgia. It never ends.
I wrap my arm around Madeline, tucking myself into her so I can kiss the top of her head. She tilts her head up to meet my eyes.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me for comforting you.” I kiss her on the mouth this time. The machine stops, and Madeline pulls back, going right back into researcher mode.
I pick up one of the photographs we found of the dead woman.
Rebecca is wearing a Kingmakers hoodie; her smile is crooked, like she already knows how the story ends.
The sad part is it doesn’t feel like her family put much effort into finding out who killed her.
They wanted everything swept under the rug. That’s how it goes in our world, sadly.
Then you have Madeline here. She doesn’t know any of them, and she cares. I have never met someone with a heart so big. You can’t resist her. There is a natural pull to her. I can even see it when she talks to random strangers. They relax and tell her shit.
Georgia paces in front of the microfilm cabinets, flipping through pages. “We can’t take the originals. If anyone notices—”
“They won’t,” Madeline says, clipping out, not wanting anything to slow us down. “We’re borrowing time, not evidence. In my eyes, this is still an open investigation, and what matters is finding a killer so we can at least know who it is.”
Grant leans against the supply shelf, flipping closed a folder he was reading over. “Copies won’t stand up in court.”
“We’re not at court yet,” Madeline reminds him. “We’re at the part where we figure out how deep this goes before it buries anyone else.”
“Or us,” Georgia mutters, still walking back and forth. She’s going to give me motion sickness just watching her.
The copier pops out the final sheet. This thing is as old as the articles we’re copying.
I tilt my head, hearing a light thudding. Steps. I gather the stack, fold it once, then again, small enough to slide inside my jacket. My eyes flick to the stairwell. “Someone’s coming,” I warn, hearing that it’s now two sets of steps. The low hush of voices and laughter carries down the stairs.
We all scatter. I pull Madeline behind a shelf with me, and I see Grant pulling Georgia with him to duck behind filing cabinets. Madeline yanks the copier’s plug; it dies with a mechanical sigh.
Then I hear it loudly. The wet sound of kissing, fabric against concrete.
I peer around the shelf. That’s when I spot Lana pressed against the wall, Caleb’s hands in her hair, his mouth on her neck. She’s giggling, breathless, as he slips his hand under her skirt.
Fuck me. I cover Madeline’s eyes, and she yanks my hand down. She’s glaring at me now, so that works too.
“Mmm.” Lana tilts her head back, eyes closed. “I told you no one comes down here.”
“You’re a bad girl,” Caleb responds, trying to pull off her dress.
We’re trapped—four people hiding while these two assholes go at it.
Lana’s eyes flutter open. She stares at the ceiling, smiling. Then her gaze drifts down and locks on to Madeline’s.
She doesn’t scream. Doesn’t jump. Just holds Madeline’s eyes for a long moment while Caleb keeps kissing her collarbone. Madeline holds her stare as though it’s a contest and she’s determined to be the winner.
“Caleb,” Lana says, light but amused. “We have company.”
He jerks back, confused, until he follows her line of sight. His face goes slack when he sees us—me emerging from behind the shelf, Madeline trying to look casual, and Grant and Georgia stepping out like we’re playing a shitty game of hide-and-seek.
“I can’t get away from you.” Madeline says. Caleb drops his head, shaking it. It appears Lana has dropped the sad crying act.
“What are you even doing down here?” Lana asks with a snarl. Fuck, she really doesn’t like my girl. I think that would be one of those green flags.
“You get promoted from hall monitor to library monitor?” Madeline tosses back at her. Lana rolls her eyes dramatically.
“Research,” Madeline says, full of confidence, not missing a beat. “History project. Is that good enough for you?”
Lana laughs, and it’s sharp in the space, as bad as the copier. “History project. In the restricted archives.” She looks at each of us, her smile never reaching her eyes. “Must be a hell of a primary source.”
“Ice Crew centennial video,” Madeline lies. Damn, she was quick with that. “Coach Murphy wanted archival footage.”
“Coach Murphy’s dead, Madeline.” Lana’s voice drops, soft and dangerous. “Hard to confirm a wish list from the morgue.” She’s not wrong, and I’m sure my smart girlfriend here picked Murphy for that reason.
Lana isn’t dumb either. She’s always plotting what her next move will be. She’ll even play dumb, but don’t get it twisted. If not for Georgia, she could be valedictorian.
Silence stretches. Caleb looks between us, confused, and I’m sure he’s mad at himself for letting Lana lead him by his dick down here, but these two have been randomly fucking for years.
Lana continues to hold Madeline’s gaze, something calculating moving behind those eyes.
After this shit is over, I’m going to need to deal with her next, or I’ll chop her ass up and toss her into the lake too.
Lana is one of the most vengeful people I’ve ever met, and I know she’ll be gunning for Madeline.
“Hope you found what you were looking for,” she says finally, stepping around Caleb, who doesn’t have a clue what the fuck is going on.
His brain only works when he’s on the ice.
“But I’d be careful what you dig up. The past has a way of biting back.
” When she’s finished, they go back up the stairs.
Caleb throws one last look over his shoulder, pleading for me to save him. Lana doesn’t look back.
He made that bed. I’m not helping him out of it.
We wait a beat to make sure they’re gone.
“Why is she so freaking nosy?” Georgia whispers.
“Being queen bee isn’t easy,” Madeline corrects. “You have to keep up on everything.”
I exhale, running a hand through my hair. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t want to talk where others might hear.” Everyone nods in agreement.
We walk fast, moving with purpose, none of us speaking. A silent understanding. Back to Bennett’s. Because now we know... Rebecca Chen was killed by Joey’s father. And almost twenty years later, history is repeating itself.
The question is, who’s pulling the strings this time?