Blood Will Tell (17 page)

Nick wasn't perfect. But he was her friend. The same was true for Ruby. And she was sure the other two would say the same about her.

All this flashed through her mind in a few seconds. She shook her head. “No, I don't believe it. Not Nick.”

“We've got to figure out a way to prove it.” With nearly surgical precision, Ruby cut off a segment of her pastry.

“And how are we supposed to do that? How do you prove a negative?”

As Alexis's question hung in the air, Nick pushed open the door. His eyes were sunken, his shoulders hunched. At the counter, he spoke to the barista so softly that she had to ask him to repeat his order.

He shuffled over to their table. “Sure you guys are okay with sitting with me?” He tried on a smile.

Alexis patted the bench beside her. “Come on. Sit down.”

He did as she ordered, but he didn't slide any closer.

“Why were you walking so oddly?” Ruby demanded.

Alexis tried to kick her under the table but only connected with the center post. Nick didn't need to be nitpicked when he was clearly falling apart.

He leaned back and looked at his feet. “Remember how they sent me home in shower shoes? The cops took some of my clothes at my house and all my shoes. These belong to my brother. He's got bigger feet.” When he lifted his head, he caught sight of the newspaper. “And with what the cops are telling the media, they might as well have drawn a big target on my back. Harriman was all chatty with the school secretary yesterday. She likes to talk. Half the kids at school probably know now.” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “I might as well give up right now. The cops aren't ever going to take any other answer than me having done it.”

Alexis thought of something. “You throw up at the sight of blood. But we didn't find any vomit at the scene.”

Nick rubbed his temple. “I'm pretty sure they won't think that's proof.”

“That's why we need to figure out who really did it,” Ruby said. “Because the cops won't. Or can't.” She made a humming noise. “It's likely they found some of her DNA on your things, and that could be making them more suspicious. After all, you crawled through her blood on Monday.”

“Harriman knew I got her blood on my gloves,” Nick objected.

“There could still have been a transfer from your gloves to something else that's making them more suspicious.” Ruby speared the last bite of her pastry.

“And there's my dad being a killer,” Nick said.

Alexis blinked. “What?”

She sat stunned while Nick told her the truth about his father. How many times had Nick boasted about him or talked about how he planned to follow in his footsteps? She couldn't imagine how he was feeling now. Or maybe she could, at least a little. Her mom was mess, too. Her mom was
her
shameful secret. But at least she had grown used to it.

Nick finished by saying, “And the cops said they found my DNA on Lucy's hand.”

“That's not what they said,” Ruby corrected him. “If it was a full profile, then yeah, DNA is as unique as a fingerprint and they could say it was you and no one else. But what they're talking about is just a few places on the Y chromosome. Did that report say what the chances were that another person would also match what they found?”

“There were so many numbers.” Nick looked up, remembering. “I think it was one in 244.”

“That's all? I wonder if that means 244 men, since they were just looking at the Y chromosome, or 244 people. Either way, that still adds up to a lot of other people who could have left it. There's probably more than 244 people walking down this street right now.” All three of them turned to look out the window. “I did some reading last night, and a lot of times a Y-STR would yield a much smaller pool, like only one in a thousand.” Ruby smiled. “One of your ancestors must have had a lot of kids. And since we know you never touched that Lucy girl, the little piece of DNA they found has to belong to some distant relative of yours.”

Instead of looking reassured, Nick pressed his hand to his mouth. He spoke so softly that they both had to lean forward to hear him over the roar of the espresso maker. “There's something you guys don't know. That nobody knows.” He stopped.

“What?” Alexis prompted.

“Kyle told me he was there. At the same bar Lucy was.”

“Well, there's your explanation.” Ruby was unfazed. “He must have brushed past her or something.”

Nick shook his head. “Kyle said he never got that close to her.”

Someone was lying, Alexis thought. But was it Harriman? Or Kyle? She took a sip of her coffee, but it was now cold and bitter.

“Then there has to be some other explanation,” Ruby said.

“I don't know what to think.” Nick's eyes looked shiny. “Kyle doesn't even care about knives. But it seems like it has to be me or him. And I know it's not me. So it has to be him.”

“The Unibomber's brother recognized his brother's writing style when they printed his manifesto in the paper,” Ruby said. “Ultimately he went to the police. Even knowing that his brother would go to prison and might even be sentenced to death.”

Nick looked miserable. “If I did that, it would kill my mom.”

As far as Alexis was concerned, their priority was saving Nick. If his brother had done it, then that was terrible, but it was far worse to think of Nick going to prison for something he hadn't done. An idea occurred to her. She opened the paper and looked at the photo of the dead girl again. Nick shifted on the hard bench and looked away. “How much do you weigh, Ruby?” she asked.

Any other girl might have hesitated. Ruby just said, “One hundred twelve point four.”

“Point four?” Alexis echoed.

“My mom has a Weight Watchers scale. It weighs in increments of one-tenth of a pound.”

“And how much do you weigh, Nick?”

Nick was the one who hesitated, clearly trying to figure out what the “right” answer was. “Hundred sixty.” Sitting taller, he squared his shoulders.

Alexis narrowed her eyes. “Really?”

“Um, maybe a little less.”

“Look at this picture of Lucy. She's about the same height as the guy standing next to her. I would guess she weighed at least what Ruby does.”

“So?”

“Let's go back to the field. Go back and see if you can drag Ruby as far as they said the killer did.”

“What?” Nick gritted his teeth. “You don't think I'm that strong?”

“Don't get huffy. Have you ever had to drag someone who's deadweight? I have, and it's hard.” Even though Alexis weighed more than her bone-thin mom, it was almost impossible to move her if she was not responsive. “I just don't think you could have done what they're saying.” She didn't say anything about Kyle. She had seen him at the crime scene, and he was clearly bigger than Nick.

They bused their table and then went out to Ruby's car. A minute later Ruby looked in her rearview mirror. “That's weird.”

Nick twitched. “What?”

“I think someone's following us.”

Suddenly she was turning right, hard enough that they all swayed in their seats. At the end of the block, she turned right again, her eyes darting back and forth between her rearview mirror and the road ahead. She repeated the same move two more times. Alexis realized they had just driven in a big square.

Ruby settled back, satisfied. “Well, I either lost them or they were never following us in the first place.”

 

CHAPTER 38

K

SATURDAY

FIX THIS THING

Kenny read the words a fifth time.
“We're putting together a solid case against this person, including DNA evidence.” Meeker said the suspect was a male teenager, but he would not identify him further, saying he did not want to jeopardize the investigation.

A teenage boy, one whose DNA had been found on the dead girl. Kenny had no idea who it was or how it had happened. All he knew was that he himself was twenty years past being a teenager. And he had worn gloves that night.

The tight strings inside him loosened. The police knew nothing. Better than that, what they thought they knew was wrong.

Picking up his cup of coffee, Kenny went into the living room. He looked through a crack in the blinds at the vacant lot across the street. For years, he had ignored it, or tried to, while his mother complained it was bringing down their property value. Sometimes teenagers would hang out on the back side, smoking cigarettes or even marijuana. And during the summers, little kids would occasionally pick the blackberries from the thorny bushes, their faces smeared with purple juice. But mostly the lot was ignored.

Now no one could ignore it.

He stiffened. Across the street, three teenagers—two girls and a boy—were getting out of a car.

What were they doing? He pressed closer, his breath fogging the glass. He recognized them from Monday. Kids from Search and Rescue. Kenny had even eavesdropped on the boy and his brother.

The three teenagers were talking, pointing, gesturing. And then they moved deeper into the lot until they were next to the blackberry bushes. The spot where it had happened. The redheaded girl lay down on her back. The boy reached down, grabbed her under the arms, and began to drag her.

Back to the spot where
Kenny
had left her. Left her in a blind panic.

But now he felt coldly rational.

He needed to fix this thing. This mistake he had made.

But how?

The kid was struggling. He was nearly bent in half, but he'd managed to haul the redheaded girl only a few feet.

The blond girl pushed him aside and tried to do it herself. She actually seemed to be stronger than the dark-skinned boy.

All three of them froze at a sudden sound. So did Kenny. Cop cars. Three cars sliding in from three directions. And then the cops were out and running. The red-haired girl got to her feet. The black boy slowly raised his hands. One cop—Kenny recognized him as Rich Meeker, the one who had stopped by to ask what Kenny had seen—was holding out something small. Smaller than a toothbrush. And Kenny realized what it was.

And how he could fix everything.

 

CHAPTER 39

NICK

SATURDAY

NOT LIKE I'M GOING ANYWHERE

In the distance, a siren wailed. It was joined by a second. And a third. All of them getting louder. It reminded Nick of Monday—had that not even been a week ago?—of how the sirens had screamed past his house to converge on the spot where Lucy's body had been found.

The same place they were now.

Ruby rolled to her feet, her fox-like face alert. Alexis looked down the street and then turned to stare at Nick with wide eyes.

Understanding dawned just as the cop cars—one unmarked and two black-and-whites—raced up to the lot. Meeker's car had barely come to a stop before he was out the door.

“Nick Walker,” he called out, “I have a warrant for your DNA.” The two other cops were behind him at an angle, as if preparing for Nick to make a run for it.

Even if he were that stupid, where was he going to go? Nick had no friends in other cities. He had no car. He had no passport. He had twelve dollars in his wallet. And no credit cards.

So Nick walked forward with his hands up. And then he opened his mouth.

*   *   *

Two hours later Nick was in his room, lying on his bed with his arm across his eyes. He kept replaying how the cops had looked at him. How Meeker had snarled, “So you decided it was a good idea to act it out—on the day of her funeral? I knew you were sick, boy, but that is stone-cold.”

His cell phone rang. He didn't bother to move.

For one thing, who would be calling him? All his friends texted. His mom called sometimes, but not from the living room, which was where she was right now. He had told her about the DNA test. She was sure it would clear him.

He wasn't so sure.

His phone rang again, but Nick stayed stuck in a loop of anxiety.

What was going to happen next? He knew he hadn't touched that girl. So he shouldn't be worried about what the DNA test would show. But would the fact that his DNA didn't match be enough to convince the cops he hadn't done it? They certainly had seemed convinced earlier. And they had asked if he had an accomplice. So even if the DNA didn't match, they still might not rule him out.

His phone rang a third time.

And even if they decided to move on, they surely wouldn't move very far. Instead, they would look closer at Kyle, who had admitted to Nick that he had seen Lucy that night. Was there some way Kyle could have touched her coat?

Or even killed her?

Either way, Nick was sure something terrible was going to happen. The noose was tightening around their family, and it was going to catch one of them.

On the fourth ring, he rolled over. And saw
OREGON STATE CORRECTIONAL FACILITY
on the caller ID. He pressed the button.

“Hello?”

A woman said in a clipped tone, “Will you accept a collect call from Eldon Walker?”

Would he? Should he? The man who had ruined all their lives? The man who had killed some poor guy just because he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time? The man whose blood ran in Nick's veins, who had given him half his DNA?

“Yes,” he heard himself saying.

“Is this Nick?” A deep rumbling voice. Did he recognize it? It was like getting a call from a ghost.

“Yeah,” he managed. He put his hand on his chest, willing his heart to slow down.

“This is your dad. Your mom told me you know the truth now.”

“Mom?” Glancing at his door, he lowered his voice. “You mean she talks to you?” The way his mom had spoken about his dad, it had sounded like she had cut all ties.

His dad made a sound that wasn't quite a chuckle. “Not regularly, no. She does let me know how you kids are doing. And she told me about this mix-up about the DNA. About how the police are questioning you. I think she blames me for that.”