Masquerade of Lies (11 page)

“Thanks. So how do we get to this school?” she asked as she started her car and put on her sunglasses.

I pulled up the GPS on my Motorola, then started reading her the directions as she drove.

“Do you think this guy we’re going to see had something to do with Brooke’s murder?” she asked, not taking her eyes off the road as she merged onto the highway.

“I don’t know, but he posted a lot on Brooke’s Facebook page, so he might know something.”

“Like who would have a motive to kill her?”

“Maybe.”

As Stephanie merged off the highway at Lionel Street and made a right, I immediately saw a sign that read WELCOME TO LOCKHAVEN. The area in which we were driving began to look bleak. The houses looked ancient, and there were run-down apartment buildings at almost every corner. The cars looked cheap, and there wasn’t a palm tree in sight.

“I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” I snickered.

Stephanie snapped her head towards me and giggled.

I caught sight of a woman across the street, pushing a shopping cart full of junk. We suddenly approached a small brown bricked school. The words
Mohawk Centennial High School
were written in big white letters above big red double doors.

“You have reached your destination,” blared from the GPS.

“We’re he-re,” I sing-songed.

Stephanie turned at the nearest street and parked at the corner facing the side of the school, then pulled up her emergency brake and turned off the ignition. I got out of the car and threw my bag over my shoulder. Stephanie circled around the car, and we headed towards the red doors. There were two guys talking outside. One of them had long brown scraggly hair that looked like it hadn’t been washed in days. He was wearing green canvas shorts, a white T-shirt, and a pair of old black and white Converses. The other guy had a shaved head and a pierced lip. He was wearing a wifebeater and a pair of old jeans.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Stephanie asked, nervous.

“Relax. I just wanna talk to him to see what he knows.

Then we’ll go right back to school.”

“So, how are we going to find what’s his name?” 

“His name is Scott Harrison, and I’m not sure yet, but we can start by asking these guys if they know him.” 

“Excuse me?”

“Hey, pretty ladies,” the one with the scraggly hair said with a smile.

“Do you guys know anybody by the name of Scott Harrison?”

The guys looked at each other, then shook their heads no.

“Sorry,” the one with the scraggly hair said.

“Thanks anyway. Come on Stephanie, let’s go.”

“Try the cafeteria,” shaved head murmured.

“Thanks.” 

We walked past the guys and entered the school. A row of red lockers was to my left, and a row of yellow lockers was to my right. They looked old and beaten up. An overflowing garbage bin sat in the corner between the yellow lockers and the doors, and an empty chip bag occupied a spot on the floor next to it. As we scurried through the hall and went left down the next hall, we heard somebody coming and bolted into the washroom. We listened by the door; the footsteps grew louder, then tapered off. I opened the bathroom door and peeked out. There was nobody there, so we dashed out and sprinted down the hall.

Most of the classroom doors were closed in session. As we kept walking, I could hear the murmur of conversation getting closer.

“I think the cafeteria is this way,” I said, pointing.

As Stephanie whisked next to me, the sound of my heels echoed through the hall. When we reached the cafeteria, I scanned the room but didn’t see Scott.

“Do you know what he looks like?” Stephanie asked.

“Yeah. I saw his picture on Facebook.” 

Several tables were jam-packed with students, while others were practically empty. I got a whiff of pizza, and my stomach began to grumble.

“How are we gonna find him in here?” Stephanie asked.

“We’ll just ask a few people to see if they know him,” I replied.

I roamed from table to table and asked various people if they knew Scott, but they all said they didn’t; I was beginning to wonder if this guy had any friends. I felt a tap on my shoulder, and when I turned around a girl stood in front of me. She had long dirty blonde hair that was side braided over her shoulder, and she wore a black toque. Her eyelashes were thick and dressed in black mascara, and they hung over her brown almond-shaped eyes. Her lips were pale and thin.

“I overheard that you’re looking for Scott Harrison?” she said.

“Yeah. Do you know him?” I asked.

She nodded her head up and down. “Yeah, I know him. He’s kind of a loner.” 

No kidding
, I thought.

“He eats his lunch by himself by his locker.”

“Can you take us to him?”

“You guys don’t go to this school, do you?” she asked.

“No, we go to Willowdale High,” I said.

Her eyes widened. “Boy, did you end up on the wrong side of the tracks,” she said with a smirk.

“We need to talk to him about something,” I pressed.

“Come on,” she said, gesturing with her head, “I’ll take you to him.” Stephanie and I followed her out of the cafeteria and down the far hall. “By the way, I’m Sara,” she called out as she walked ahead of us.

We passed a couple girls spouting about some show they’d watched last night. We turned right down another hall, and from afar I saw a guy with short black messy hair sitting on the floor with his back against the lockers and his knees bent. He was scribbling in a book.

“Hey, Scott! These girls are looking for you!” Sara said.

He stopped what he was doing and gazed up at us with his round blue eyes. He had an oblong-shaped head and a narrow jawline. His pointy nose hung over his dry lips. He had black studs in his ears, and he was wearing black khaki shorts, a black
Simpsons
T-shirt, and black canvas shoes. There was something ominous about him.

“Who are you?” he questioned in a deep voice.

“I’m Hanna, and this is Stephanie. We go to Willowdale High.” 

He snapped his neck to look at me with his bulging eyes. “What do you want?”

“All right, I’m outta here,” Sara muttered.

“Thanks for your help, Sara,” I called out.

She smiled and began to walk away. As her footsteps trailed off, Stephanie paced from side to side and bit her bottom lip. I directed my attention to Scott, who was still waiting for an answer.

“We need to talk to you about Brooke,” I said.

His shoulders stiffened. “I already told the police everything I know.”

“How do you know her?” I asked.

He put his notebook and pencil on the floor, then stood up as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Brooke and I have been best friends since grade nine.”

“
Just
friends?” I asked.

He looked away and took a couple steps back, then leaned his back against the lockers and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Oh yeah, we’re…just friends.”

“When was the last time you saw her?” I asked.

He began rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t remember...last week maybe?”

“Did she say anything out of the ordinary to you? Maybe about somebody after her or something?”

He shook his head from left to right. “No, nothing,” he said, then tilted his head like he was thinking about something. “Wait, a while ago she asked me to help her play a prank on Claire Miller.”

“What do you mean a prank? What kind of prank?”

“She wasn’t sure. She wanted to get back at Claire for something she did to her a long time ago. She really hated her. I know how Brooke thinks, though. It’s either go big or go home, and whatever it was, I couldn’t go through with it.” He walked back and forth. “I’m already on probation for drug possession, so I have to stay out of trouble.”

“Ohmigod. Is there any way Claire found out about that?”

“I don’t know…why?” he asked.

I thought about the blood-stained shirt I’d found stashed at the back of Claire’s closet.

“Because maybe Claire got to Brooke first,” I said.

CHAPTER TEN—TIME DOESN’T HEAL ALL WOUNDS

Scott’s mouth was wide open as he ran his hand through his thick hair. “Whoa…so you think maybe
Claire
killed Brooke?” he said.

“I don’t know, but it’s a possibility. Brooke
was
her archenemy. Besides, she’s the only suspect I have right now,” I said.

“Well, besides you,” Stephanie blurted. I shot her a look. “
Sorry
,” she said while twirling a strip of her long black hair through her fingers.

“Wait, you’re a suspect?” Scott asked me.

“Don’t you watch the news?” Stephanie asked, incredulous.

“I was set up!” I snapped.

“What do you mean you were set up? Who would want to set you up?”

“I don’t know! That’s what I have to find out!”

I proceeded to tell him how Brooke and I had planned to meet at her house and what I found when I got there. I even told him about how my texts disappeared.

“Wow, this is wild,” Scott said, then leaned his back against the lockers and tilted his head back.

“Tell me about it. That’s why I need your help,” I said.

He was quiet for a moment. “Okay, well there is this guy she dated briefly a little while ago. His name is Mike Ellis. After he got what he wanted he dumped her. She was pretty shaken up about it.”

“I didn’t see him on her Facebook page,” I said. “Wait a minute....on her Twitter page, she tweeted about a guy
three days
before she was murdered. That was probably the guy she was talking about.” Scott’s face went pale. “Do you know where we can find this guy?”

“He lives in town, and I think he’s a real estate agent, but that’s all I know,” Scott said.

“We need a computer,” I said.

“Why?” asked Stephanie.

“Well, since we’re here, we can try and find this guy to see if he knows anything.”

“I thought you said we’d go right back to school?”

“We will. Right after we have a little chat with Mike Ellis.”

“So what, you’re Nancy Drew now?” Stephanie bantered.

“Wait a minute,” Scott blurted. He turned around and opened his locker, then pulled out his laptop. “Here, you can use this.” He brought his laptop to life and connected to the school’s wifi, then handed me the laptop.

“You’re a lifesaver!” I shrilled.

I crouched down and placed the laptop on the floor in front of me, then hovered my finger over the mouse. I opened a browser and did a Google search for
Mike Ellis Real Estate in Lockhaven
, and two results came back. The first one was a man who looked like he was in his fifties. He had salt and pepper hair, and he was balding. The second guy was much younger. He had a rugged look, with deep-set eyes, and a square jaw.
Bingo
. I clicked on his website, where he displayed various houses for sale. He worked for a real estate company called
Lockhaven Realty Group
. I scrolled down to where it said
Contact Us
and clicked on it. I pulled my Motorola out of my pocket and pressed the
memo
icon, then typed the office address in my phone and handed the laptop back to Scott.

“Come on, Stephanie, let’s go. Thanks for your help, Scott,” I said.

“No problem.”

“Bye,” Stephanie waved.

We jumped in Stephanie’s car and put on our seatbelts. Stephanie turned on the ignition while I typed the address in my
Waze
app. She shifted the gear into drive, then accelerated down the street.

“So, what are you going to say to this guy?” she asked, gripping the steering wheel.

“I don’t know yet.”

We suspiciously looked at each other for a second.

The engine purred as we glided down the street. I stared out the window and thought about all the people with a motive to kill Brooke: first there was Claire, the girl who hated Brooke immensely; then there was Mike, the ex-boyfriend. At that point, it just wasn’t clear who could have murdered Brooke.

The car lurched as Stephanie veered into the agency’s parking lot. We parked in front of a brown bricked office building, then Stephanie cut the engine and pulled the keys out of the ignition. We got out of the car and strode towards the glass double doors at the front of the building. A girl wearing a headset sat at the reception desk. She had big hair and long nails painted purple.

“Can I help you?”

“We’re here to see Mike Ellis.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but we really need to talk to him.”

“I’m sorry, he’s with a client right now. You can leave your name and number, and he’ll get back to you.”

“Okay,” Stephanie said.

She started to turn around, but I grabbed her arm and held her back. “This is really important,” I said. “If you can just maybe tell him it’s about Brooke Tillier.” 

The girl gazed at me for a long moment. “What’s your name?” 

“Hanna.”

“Just a minute.” She turned towards the phone keypad and dialed his extension. “Hi. Mr. Ellis. There’s two girls here to see you, one of them named Hanna.” She didn’t say anything as she waited for him to respond. “I told them that, but they insist it’s important. Something about a girl named Brooke Tillier.” She glanced at us before she spoke again. “Will do.” She ended the call and swiveled around in her chair to face us. “Please take a seat, and he’ll be with you in a moment.”

“Thank you,” I said.

We sat down on the leather lounge chairs behind us. As we waited, I observed the wall of pictures in front of me. There was a sign that said
Meet the Team!
and underneath it was a headshot of each real estate agent in the company. They were listed alphabetically by last name. I spotted Mike’s picture; it was the same picture as the one on his website.

After some time, Mike Ellis appeared in the reception area. He wore black dress pants, a royal blue dress shirt, and a grey tie. He had short layered chestnut brown hair, styled similar to Zac Efron in
High School Musical
. He was shaking hands with an older gentleman; probably the client he was meeting with. He spied me staring at him and walked towards us.

“Are you Hanna?”

“Yes.” I stood up to shake his hand. “This is Stephanie.”

“Hi,” Stephanie said.

“Thanks for meeting with us,” I said.

“I’m actually really busy today. What’s this about?”

“You dated my friend Brooke Tillier?”

His eyes darted around the room, and he put his hands in his pocket. “Yeah, so?”

“Well, are you aware that she’s dead?”

“Let’s go talk in my office,” he whispered.

We followed him past the reception desk and rounded the first corner. He led us to the first door on the right, then stepped out of the way so we could go inside first. A desk was inside the office, and on top of it were a flat screen computer monitor and a phone. Loose pieces of paper were scattered next to a couple pens, and a card holder full of his business cards sat at the edge. There were two leather waiting room chairs across from the desk, so Stephanie and I sat down in them. He closed the door and sat down in his chair.

“I’m aware of Brooke’s death,” he said. “It’s all over the news.”

He leaned back in his chair and cupped his chin in his hand, covering his mouth with his index finger. He appeared stunned, but I couldn’t tell if it was an act.

“The news said the police suspect foul play. That she was murdered,” he continued.

“Yeah…her wrists were cut.” I looked at him and continued. “Somebody killed her and tried to make it look like a suicide.”

“Do they have any suspects or leads?”

Yeah…me
. “Not really.”

“So, where were you the night of September 25th?” Stephanie blurted.

“Me? Wait, you think
I
had something to do with her death?” he exclaimed as Stephanie gazed at him.

“Well,” I said, “on Twitter she posted about somebody being a jerk, and then three days later she was murdered. I know you dumped her and she wasn’t happy about that. So what…was she a pain in the ass? Was this your way of getting rid of her?”

“Care to explain?” Stephanie pressed.

He sat up in his chair. “First of all, Brooke and I broke up like three months ago, and I haven’t seen her since.” He picked up his iPhone and fiddled with the buttons. “The night of September 25th, I was with a client, so there’s no way I could have killed her.”

“Really?”
I said sarcastically.

“Yes…really. Look, we hung out and had a little fun, but it wasn’t serious…at least, not for me.”

“Is there anything else you can tell us?”

“No, sorry.” 

I took a deep breath as I looked at Stephanie. “Okay, let’s go,” I said, then she and I stood up as Mike followed our lead. I took one of his business cards and stuffed it in my pocket.

“Sorry for dropping in like this,” I said, then whirled around to leave the room.

“I want you girls to know that I liked Brooke and I didn’t mean to hurt her,” Mike said. I craned my neck to look at him, and he rubbed his chin. “I thought we were just having fun. She was a nice girl,” he finished.

“Yeah…she
was
,” I said. “Thank you for your time.” 

Stephanie and I wandered out of the room, then headed back to the car. On our way back to school, I started craving a vanilla latte.

“Hey, wanna stop at Starbucks?” I asked.

“Sure,” Stephanie beamed. “We’ll probably have to wait until we get to Willowdale, because I doubt they have a Starbucks in this town.” 

The two of us laughed hysterically as Stephanie merged on the highway.

“So, do you think he’s lying?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

We soon arrived at Starbucks and ended up going through the drive-thru.

“What do you want?” Stephanie asked me.

“Vanilla latte, please.”

When we reached the drive-thru window, Stephanie placed our order. While we waited for our hot beverages, I noticed a blue sedan parked across the street. The driver was wearing a pair of sunglasses, and it felt like he was staring right at me – but I didn’t recognize him. 

“Hanna,” Stephanie said as she nudged my arm with her elbow.

I looked at her, and she handed me my vanilla latte. When I looked back, the blue sedan was gone.

We headed back to school and got there in time for fifth period.

“Thanks for the ride, Stephanie,” I said.

“No problem.”

“Well, see you after school. You’re coming over to my place, right?”

“Yeah, for sure. Wouldn’t miss it,” she said with a smile.

I got out of the car, turned around, and headed to class.

***

When we got to my house, my mother was sitting at the table in the kitchen on her laptop.

“Hi, Mom! What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to set up a Facebook page.”

“What?! Why?”

“Apparently, Hank is on Facebook, and I’m a little curious, that’s all.”

“Okay, have fun with that. Can you please peel your eyes away from the computer screen for a second? This is my friend, Stephanie.” 

She closed her laptop. “Nice to meet you Stephanie,” she said. “So, do you go to Willowdale High, too?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“She writes for the school newspaper,” I offered.

“That’s good. So, Hanna, how was your day?” my mom asked
. I went to Lockhaven to try and find Brooke’s killer. Nothing out of the ordinary.

“It was okay. Well, we’ll leave you to your Facebook. We’re going to my room.”

“Okay, honey. Stephanie, will you be staying for dinner?”

“Sure.”

“What are we having?” I asked.

“Shepherd’s pie.”

“Sweet!”

“I’ll call you girls when it’s ready.”

“Okay. Thanks, Mom.” 

We left the kitchen and headed to my room. When we got there, Stephanie said, “Your mom is really nice.”

“Yeah, she’s great.”

“Where’s your dad?”

“My parents got divorced. He still lives in Deerwood.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.”

“So, is that where you and your mom moved from?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you ever miss it?”

“Yeah, sometimes.” 

Stephanie wandered around my room and looked at all the pictures I had displayed. She stopped at the one of me and Marisa at Willow’s Peak Beach. In the picture, I wore a teal bikini and Marisa wore a black sexy cut-out one-piece that she bought from Victoria’s Secret. Next to that picture was a silver framed photo of me with my mom and dad on my tenth birthday. I remembered that day like it was yesterday. It was one of the best memories I had of my parents together; when we were a family. It was a warm Saturday morning, and my mom was up early that morning, decorating the house for my birthday party. I was wearing a yellow summer dress with pink and white flowers on it and flip flops on my feet. My hair was parted into two braids, one on each side, and I had bangs. We all looked so happy in that picture...why did things have to change?