Jex Malone (35 page)

“We need to look around,” says Deva. “Plus, the observatory looks sort of cool. I wonder if they have T-shirts for sale. At least, my parents will know that I did something educational when I ran away this summer.”

We wander in the front doors and an eager ticket-taker wants to know if we'd like to see the show in the dome building, and three of us nod while Nat shakes her head as in “no thanks.”

It's decided that Cooper and I will pair up to examine some of the trails while the rest of them check out the terrain that's closer to the main building.

“We'll meet in an hour at the car,” Deva promises.

A few minutes later, Cooper and I are walking along a marked trail with the strong, pungent smell of eucalyptus and pine filling our noses. It's fresh and delicious, and the sun feels so warm and good beating down on us. The weather isn't hot, but pleasantly cool and breezy with the deep green summer leaves swaying in a lazy rhythm. If we weren't looking for a dead body, it could almost be considered a date.

Or a walk with a friend?

Boys.

Can't classify them.

Until the first kiss.

“Cooper, are you all right about all of this looking around?” I finally ask as we walk up a steep embankment that leads us to another winding trail. With each step, we seem closer to absolutely nothing, although it sure is peaceful to be outside with the birds chirping and the occasional hiker passing us with a friendly nod of hello.

“Jex, I don't know how I feel anymore. I'm sort of running on adrenalin,” Cooper admits. “I'm not even so sure how I feel about anything, but I know I want to find out something and settle this once and for all.”

“Yeah,” I say. “That's how I felt about this summer. I wanted to find out about my dad and settle things once and for all. I'm not even sure if he likes me. I never saw him that much when I was a kid.”

Almost gratefully, Cooper instantly shifts out of his own drama and looks sympathetically at me, causing my stomach to twist in a knot.

The last thing I want is his pity.

Still, I can't help it that my pulse jumps when he chooses to put his arm around my shoulder. A shot of pure happiness shoots through my system.

We walk along in silence for a few minutes until we reach the end of the trail. We're at the top and Cooper is facing the other way. Lightly, he puts his hand on my shoulder and says, “Jex, turn around.”

I spin around and what I see takes my breath away.

The sun is perfectly positioned in the sky to turn the City of Los Angeles into a glimmering spectacle. It's as if every building is covered in sequins and is sparkling—more beautiful than anything an electric light could produce. It's so beautiful that I can't help but move closer to Cooper. Suddenly, we're standing as one.

Cooper looks into my eyes and I don't want to ever pull away. He leans down a bit until he's so close that his breath mixes with mine. My lips part and then … a loud scream ricochets through the woods.

It's the yelp of a toddler who has broken away from his parents to run to the top of the hill. He can't help but run directly into Cooper's left knee and tumbles backward onto his little butt.

“Bobby, you get back here right now!” screams his mother, who reaches us in mere seconds. Her disapproving look says it all as she quickly realizes what has been interrupted. She politely nods and says, “I'm sorry. He's a little hyper,” while giving me a glance that almost screams, “You should thank me. You're too young to be making out with hot boys in the woods.”

I want to scream at her, “Why do you think woods were created in the first place?”

But I say nothing.

The moment is clearly over.

“It sure is pretty here,” Cooper says a beat later, breathing deeply and pulling away like the suddenly cooler air is actually returning him to his senses.

Deva, Cissy, and Nat had no luck prowling the grounds either and decided to take in the show as if it would offer them some clues.

“Well, I know way too much about Mars and Orion and his belt, which wasn't even Kate Spade,” Deva says, a shopping bag in her left hand. Obviously, she also found the gift store. “And I don't understand why there isn't a planet named Dior, but no one asked me.”

“It makes absolutely no sense,” says Nat, who looks so frustrated that I think I even see tears in her eyes. “One thing is for sure. Murderers don't like places filled with a constant stream of people. Yes, this is another landmark, but one that gets a lot of foot traffic.”

“I bet this place is never quiet unless you count the middle of the night, and then there would be the guards,” Cissy adds. “You just couldn't find the peace and quiet to do any dirty work.”

“Let's just go back to the room and regroup,” Nat suggests, kicking at a rock, the only sign of frustration she'll allow us to see. “I don't want to go anywhere else tonight because I need to study the clues again. We only have one more picture. There's clearly something we're missing, but I can't figure out what.”

She pauses for a moment. I can tell she's thinking hard and running through everything we've seen in her mind.

“And plus, we probably only have another day before our parents' all-points bulletin is answered and they catch up with us. By the time the credit card companies get the charges called in, they will know exactly where we are and where we've been. Deva's been using her phone too; they're going to be able to tell the towers where the calls are coming from, which will identify that she's in L.A. We're going to be pretty easy to find, thanks to stupid technology.”

“You can't even run away anymore without Big Brother over your shoulder,” Deva agrees.

“I need to read Patty's notebook again,” Nat continues in an angst-ridden voice I haven't heard before. “There's something in there we're missing. Something just doesn't feel right. I just know it.”

I put my hand on her arm to comfort her.

“Notebook?” Cooper repeats. “We need to talk about this notebook.”

“Later,” I implore.

“Nat, you knew the chances of us solving this were slim,” I remind her. “We're following the clues. Doing all we can do.”

At that moment, Nat whips around like she's an Olympic ice skater doing a sharp turn. Her eyes are filled with fury and her shoulders are actually shaking.

“Oh, we're solving this case!” Nat cries. “Do you think we can just let our first case go down the toilet? We're members of the Drew … ” She stops herself cold, remembering that Cooper has never been informed that we've opened an actual detective agency. He doesn't know that his sister is our first case.

“We're missing something big—I just don't know what it is!” Nat bites out.

“But you will,” I remind her, wrapping a protective arm around her.

“If it's the last thing I do,” Nat says in a quiet voice.

“I am just putting you on notice. You are not fooling me anymore.”

—Sara Sidle,
CSI: Crime Scene Investigation

As night settles in and L.A. comes alive with light outside our balcony doors, we settle into our usual routine in our luxury suite. Deva immediately excuses herself to jump into a hot, bubbling bubble bath while Cissy turns on some rom-com movie in the bedroom. As expected, Nat spreads the clues out all over her bed. As the time passes, I see her nose buried in Patty's notebook and she's talking to herself.

Cooper is in the bleakest of moods.

“Honestly, we were total fools for even coming here,” Cooper mutters, pacing the expensive beige carpeting. “I'm shocked the posse of parents or the police haven't arrived yet to pick all of us up. And what was it for? Did we find Patty? Did we find any clues about her? Do we know who killed her? No, we found nothing! We just went on a road trip.”

“Cooper,” Nat interrupts, walking into the living room grasping the last drawing. “We still have one more clue. You have to see these things to the end. Follow the clues. They will lead you to where you're supposed to go.”

“Yeah, we have a hand drawing of a stupid castle,” Cooper mutters. “I'm sure my sister is buried inside a castle in California. What's wrong with me? Why didn't I just guess that one years ago? And by the way, how many castles are exactly around here?

“This is insane.”

Cooper doesn't even mutter “good night” to Deva, who turns in early with a cucumber and aloe eye mask attached to her face. Cissy is wearing her new Griffith Park T-shirt while snoring. Loudly.

I think Nat's going to pull an all-nighter looking at the clues. She doesn't even notice when I sneak out of our room and wander back into the living room where Cooper isn't sleeping, but fitfully tossing around on the fancy living room couch that's much too small for his lanky frame.

His feet hang off one end; his head dangles off the other. He doesn't notice me, so quietly I walk out onto the balcony to gaze out, but a thick fog has rolled in. I can't see two inches in front of my face.

It's one in the morning and somehow I've wandered into the living room again, only to zero in on Cooper tossing and turning on the couch. He looks like he's sleeping, so as quietly as possible, I sit down on the floor right by his face and listen to him. Really listen. I can feel his warm breath on my cheek and I allow my eyes to slowly trace his strong jaw. My eyes move upward to his closed eyes and his feathery eyelashes. His hair is a jumbled mess and falls recklessly into his face and onto his freckled neck. I'm so tempted to take my hand and gently push it off his cheek. I can't for some reason, so I don't.

But I wish.

I do have to smile for a second. He's wrapped up like a mummy in a big white comforter. As my eyes run the length of him, I hear something that makes me lose about five years off my young life.

“Hey, stop staring at me,” a voice mumbles from under his comforter cloud. “Why are you out here?”

The mummy speaks.

“I'm not staring at you,” I lie. “And I can't stand listening to Nat and Cissy snore anymore.”

No one could say I wasn't quick on the reply—even if it was only half true in this case.

“Go back to bed. I think tomorrow is going to be a really hard day,” Cooper mutters, emerging from underneath but then smashing his face into the pillow in such a way that I wonder if he's even breathing anymore.

For some reason, I can't move. Several seconds pass and Cooper doesn't say a word. Just when I'm tempted to go away, his head pops up and super quickly he leans forward to give me a hard kiss on the forehead. It's a peck, exciting and disappointing at the same exact time. He does have the softest lips, but …

Is it a brother kiss or a boyfriend kiss? Is it an “I like you” or “I want to comfort you from under my comforter” smooch?

Is any of this even real? Or am I back in New Jersey having a really weird dream about how I spent my summer vacation—on the lam with three girls and the boyfriend of my dreams who kisses me like he's my cousin from Toledo?

It's not a dream because I'm awake—and he's speaking.

“Jex,” he says in a muffled voice. “Exactly how old are you?”

“Why?” I blurt. “If you count the last two days, I've at least aged two years. So technically, I'm nineteen, although in real years, I just turned seventeen. Maybe if I'm nineteen, it means I can just get an apartment out here and never go home. What do you think about that, Cooper?”

He lifts his face up again and smiles, lighting up his entire mug until his eyes crinkle in the corner in a merry way you don't usually get out of someone like Cooper. Just when I think he's going to crack a joke to lift the tension, he surprises me.

“I'm not a good idea,” he warns me, looking hard into my eyes. The smile is gone.

All that remains is a big dose of honesty.

“I'm not a good idea either,” I inform him.