Masquerade of Lies (19 page)

“What?”

“It’s just…well…I don’t know if I should say anything.” 

“Stephanie…you brought me here to talk. If you know something about Brooke’s murder, then you have to tell me, because the police think
me
or
Josh
did it, and I’m trying very hard to prove we didn’t.”

“Claire told me if I said anything to anybody, she’d destroy me. Look what she did to you.”

“Stephanie, you have an obligation to tell what you know. If not to me, then to the police. Besides, not saying anything could make you an accessory after the fact to a crime.”

She held my gaze for a moment, then said, “No cops. I’ll tell you.” 

No cops.
I thought about the letter I’d found in my locker.
Come by yourself. No cops
.

“The night Brooke died, I went to her house to confront her and tell her who I was.”

“But why
that
night? Why didn’t you go over there before?” 

She wiped her left eye and tucked some hair behind her ears. “Ummm...I saw the two of you talking at school…and…I don’t know…it just felt like the right time. When I got there, I saw Claire getting into her car and it was about nine o’clock. Her car was parked across the street from Brooke’s house.” She fiddled with the half-heart pendant. “I don’t know…I had a bad feeling…so I ran up to her and asked her where she was coming from. She said she was just bringing Brooke her homework.” My mouth fell open. “At first I didn’t think anything of it…but the next day…when I found out she was dead…I…I didn’t know what to think.” Her lips trembled as tears slowly rolled down her cheeks.

I placed my hand over hers. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I said.

“I-I don’t know…I was scared.

“Stephanie, you have to go to the police and tell them what you just told me.”

“What? No…I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t.” She stood up and stormed out of the room. After what Stephanie just told me, I was convinced Claire killed Brooke...now I just had to prove it.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN—NOTHING LIKE A LITTLE BREAKING AND ENTERING

It was 5:46 pm on a Friday night. Josh and I sat in his car and waited for Brooke’s mother to leave for yoga. We’d been watching her the last few days, and she usually returned shortly after seven o’clock, which meant we only had about an hour to get in and out. Josh parked across the street away from Brooke’s house so we were less noticeable. Brooke’s hearse still sat in the driveway, but a
For Sale
sign was posted in the back window. I decided to tell Josh what Stephanie told me about finding Claire at Brooke’s house the day she was murdered.

“There has to be a logical explanation,” Josh said.

“
Really?
” I said. “You don’t think it’s a little bit of a coincidence that Claire hated Brooke…is seen close to her house…and
the next day
we find out she was murdered?” 

“Look, Claire might be a lot of things, but she’s not a murderer.”

“Why are you so sure she didn’t do it?”

“Why are you so sure she did?” 

I realized we’d have to agree to disagree. “What’s the deal with you two anyway?” I asked. “Isn’t she pissed about us spending so much time together?”

“Well…we’re sort of broke up.”

“Oh…whose idea was that?”

“It was mutual. We’re toxic together.”

“Sorry,” I said.

I wasn’t sorry, though; I was ecstatic. I decided not to get my hopes up, though, considering they had a tendency to break up and get back together again.

We suddenly spied Brooke’s mother emerging from her house, carrying a yoga mat. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she wore black and grey Old Navy yoga wear. We slumped in our seats to hide ourselves. She threw her yoga mat in the back seat of her blue Kia Rio, then jumped in the driver’s seat and started the engine. She reversed out of the driveway and took off down the street.

“Ready?” Josh asked.

“Let’s do this.” 

We shared a look and quickly got out of the car, then scurried towards her front door. I kept looking over my shoulder to make sure nobody was watching us. Josh gripped the chrome door handle; the door was locked.

“How are we gonna get in?” he asked.

“There must be a key around here somewhere.” 

I looked under the mat, but there was nothing there. I then traced my hand around the frame of the door and felt something cold against my fingers; it was a key.
Score
.

I unlocked the door and slipped inside. Josh trailed behind me and closed the door. The smell of cooking spices invaded my nose. I sauntered down the hall towards the kitchen, but when I saw there wasn’t anything on the stove, I wondered where the smell was coming from. I then noticed a half-eaten microwavable chicken dinner sitting on the counter. Dirty dishes were piled up in the sink, and a stack of mail sat on the counter. Newspapers were strewn all over the kitchen table.

I wandered into the living room. A glass ashtray full of cigarettes sat on the wooden coffee table.

I turned around as Josh walked past me. “Let’s go upstairs,” I said.

Josh nodded his head, and the two of us headed up the stairs. When I reached the bathroom, all the memories of the night I found Brooke dead came flooding back. The thought sent a shiver up my spine, and I stood there for a moment with a dazed look on my face.

“Are you okay?” Josh asked.

The sound of his voice snapped me out of my trance. “Y-yeah…I’m fine,” I said.

Josh led me to Brooke’s bedroom, which was just down the hall from the bathroom. Her bedroom walls were painted black, and they were covered in anime posters. Her bed was dressed in a black duvet and three black plush pillows. There was a night table on the right side of the bed. A tall CD stand stood next to the window, and next to it was a small stereo. Underneath the window sat an old wooden desk. I scurried over to the night table and frantically pulled open the drawers. I didn’t really know what I was looking for; I just wanted to find something,
anything
that would help prove Claire was guilty of killing Brooke.

After Josh wandered out of the room, I looked underneath the mattress. I dropped to the floor on my hands and knees and peeked under the bed. I saw a pair of socks and an empty take-out food container. I then sprinted over to her dresser and noticed the calendar hanging on the wall. The word
Hatersfield
was written in red marker on
September 24th
– the day before Brooke died. I furrowed my brow and made a mental note of that. I began searching each drawer one at a time. When I got to the bottom drawer, I felt something hard against my hand; it was buried underneath the clothes. I grabbed hold of it and pulled it out of the drawer. It was a photo album. It was half full of pictures of Brooke when she was younger. Most of them were of her standing next to somebody else, but the face was scratched out; I guessed it was Claire.

I put the photo album back where I found it and opened the closet. There was a pile of clothes on the floor and a pair of black and white Converse low top canvas shoes. Various comic books occupied the shelf. I shut the closet door and noticed a pile of sketchbooks sitting on the desk. I could hear Josh rummaging through the cabinets in the bathroom. I looked at the time on my Motorola: it was 6:17 pm. I skimmed through one of the sketchbooks, then tossed it on the desk, causing a cloud of dust to explode in the air. As it settled, I opened the desk drawer and scoured through piles of paper and colored pencils. When I reached the bottom of the drawer, I came across a small hidden compartment. I used my nails to pull it open. Inside was a small silver key. The number
217
was engraved on it, and attached was a tag that said
Willowdale Bus Terminal
. I stuffed the key in the pocket of my Bluenotes jeans. When I turned around, I was startled to find Josh standing there.

“What did you find?” he asked.

I didn’t even hear him come in the room. It was almost as if he’d snuck up behind me on purpose.

“Oh…I found a key.” I dug my hand in my pocket and pulled out the key. “It looks like a key to a locker.” I handed the key to Josh, and he inspected it. “I think we should go check it out. There might be something in there that leads us to our killer.”

“Yeah…good idea. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning, and we’ll go.”

“Sounds good. I’ll hold on to the key,” I said, opening my hand. Josh gave the key back to me, then I looked at my phone to check the time. “Shit! It’s
6:51
! We’ve gotta get out of here!”

We raced out of the room and ran down the stairs. Suddenly, we heard somebody fiddling with the front door lock. Josh and I looked at each other with wide eyes and made a beeline for the kitchen. As we hid behind the wall, my heart throbbed in my chest. Josh stood closely behind me, and I could feel his hot breath on the back of my neck. The front door swept open, and Brooke’s mom walked in. She threw the keys on the side table and dropped her yoga mat on the floor, then came towards the kitchen. We stood completely still. She opened the fridge, pulled out a bottle of water, opened it, and took a swig. Josh and I looked at each other; we knew we had to get out of there without Brooke’s mom seeing us. As she stepped in our direction, we tiptoed into the living room and ducked behind the couch. Beads of sweat began to form on my forehead.

Suddenly, my Motorola chimed. I scrambled to get it out of my pocket so I could turn it off. Josh’s face went pale. I clutched my phone and hit IGNORE on the screen, then glanced at it: it was my mother. I bit my lip. I could hear footsteps getting closer to where we were. I closed my eyes, hoping Brooke’s mom wouldn’t find us. I could hear her breathing; she was really close. Josh put his face in his hands.

All of sudden, the phone rang. Brooke’s mom went into the kitchen to answer it. When I heard her say, “Hello,” Josh and I shared a look, as we knew this was our opportunity to get out of there. We quietly dashed towards the door, and Josh tore it open. I softly closed the door behind me, and we ran towards Josh’s car. We jumped in, and Josh frantically shoved the keys in the ignition, put the car in
drive,
and stepped on the gas. I kept looking back at Brooke’s house to make sure she didn’t see us.

“That was so close!” I said.

“Tell me about it,” Josh agreed.

Shortly after we left, Josh turned right into an intersection. I stared out of the window and noticed a maroon Ford Explorer parked in the driveway of the house on the corner. The license plate said
ILVBOOZ
. I saw that license plate every morning on my way to school, which meant we were close to my house. I looked at the time on Josh’s dash board: it was
7:30pm
, which was way past dinner time. That was probably why my mother called me earlier.

Josh pulled up to the curb in front of my house and put the car into
park
.

“So, I’ll see you in the morning?” I said.

“Yeah, I’ll be here,” Josh said.

“Okay…bye.” 

I opened the door as Josh clasped my arm and pulled me back. He cupped my chin in his hand and pulled me closer. I closed my eyes. His lips gently touched mine, then his tongue darted around my mouth. My whole body tingled. As our kiss ended, he broke away from me and smiled. My cheeks were burning. I looked over my shoulder and noticed my mother peeking out the window.

“I better go,” I said.

“Okay.” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I stepped out of the car and closed the door, then wrapped my arms around myself and watched as his car drove off down the street. Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a text message from an unknown number. Only four words:

You know too much.

CHAPTER NINETEEN—SHE LOVES ME, SHE LOVES ME NOT

I ran as fast as I could to get away from him. He wore a masquerade mask, and I couldn’t see his face. I just kept running. My Motorola was clenched in my hand.
Bleep! Bleep!
It chimed repeatedly. I received one text message after the next, the same message over and over again:

You know too much. You know too much.

My heart pounded in my chest. It was the middle of the night. The street was eerily quiet. There wasn’t a soul in sight. I ran across the grass towards my house. I was almost there. Suddenly, my feet twisted and fell from under me. I tumbled to the ground as my Motorola flew out of my hand. My breath quickened. He was getting closer. I screamed, but I don’t think anybody heard me. I pulled myself up and continued to run. When I finally got to my front porch, I frantically banged on the door.

“Mom! Open the door! Please! Hurry!” 

As I looked over my shoulder, he pounced on me.

I shot up from the bed. I was out of breath. Sweat pooled on my face and neck. I reached for my Motorola to check the time: it was
3:57 am
. I stumbled out of bed and went to the bathroom, then turned on the tap and splashed cold water on my face. I buried my face in a towel and sauntered back to my room. My pajama top was drenched in sweat, so I took it off and flung it to the floor. I opened my drawer and pulled out a blue T-shirt with the words
Corona Extra
written across the chest. Marisa had gotten a couple T-shirts while doing some promotional modeling, so she gave one to me. I slipped it on and crawled back into bed, then I realized my sheets and pillow were damp from sweat, so I decided to go and lay on the couch. I couldn’t sleep, though. I kept looking at the text message I received last night:

You know too much.

Those words sent a shiver up my spine. I decided to watch TV to try and get my mind off it, and I found myself watching
Big Brother After Dark.
I started thinking about how I’d love to be there right now, hidden from the outside world and away from all this drama.

***

I woke up to the blare of my Motorola. It was eight o’clock. I’d set an alarm the night before so I’d be ready for Josh to pick me up. I rubbed my eyes, reached for my phone, and shut off the alarm. Then I thought about the fact that Mark didn’t text me the other night. Actually, I haven’t heard from him in a couple of days. I decided to send him a text:
hey stranger!
Text me bac
k
I got up and walked into the kitchen. I got a glass from the cupboard, opened the fridge, and pulled out the jug of orange juice. As I poured myself a glass, my mother walked into the kitchen.

She glanced in the living room. “Did you sleep down here last night?”

“Just for part of the night,” I said as I took a swig of my orange juice.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah…I just had a bad dream, that’s all.” She gave me a sidelong glance. “Mom, don’t worry. I’m fine.” I finished the rest of my orange juice. “I’m gonna go take a shower.” I walked past her and headed towards the bathroom.

***

When Josh pulled up, I hopped in his car and clicked in the seatbelt. He reversed out of my driveway, and the engine purred down the quiet street. Shortly after we left, we arrived at the Willowdale Bus Terminal. It was
9:32 am
. The parking lot was half full of parked cars. Josh pulled into an empty spot and cut the engine.

“Do you have the key?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, let’s go.” 

We both spilled out of his car and headed towards the glass door. It was a brisk fall day. My hair whirled around in the wind. A heavy woman wearing a royal blue pea coat was coming out of the bus terminal and pushed open the door. When we entered the terminal, the smell of urine and stale coffee invaded my nose. As we walked down the wide hallway, I saw a small coffee shop on the left, next to a convenience store. All along, the buses growled as they arrived and departed.

As we went down the escalator, I spied a sign that said
Lockers
, with an arrow indicating which way to go. We followed the sign and landed at a long row of red, yellow, and orange lockers. I yanked the sleeve of Josh’s bomber jacket, and he followed me. I looked for locker number
217
. When I found it, I pushed the key in the hole and turned it clockwise, then took a deep breath. Josh stood beside me and nibbled on his fingernails. I swung open the door and saw a pile of old pictures. Most of them were of Brooke when she was a little girl, sitting on her father’s lap. Some were pictures of her mother and father together. Seeing them together in a picture made everything surreal. Stephanie’s dad had left her and her mom for Brooke’s mother. He’d knocked up Brooke’s mother, which made Brooke and Stephanie half-sisters...wow, Brooke’s dad was a real douchebag.

Underneath the pictures was a black USB flash drive. I scooped it up and held it in my hand.

“I wonder what’s on it?” I said.

“Why don’t you let me hold on to it?” Josh said as he tried to take it out of my hand.

“Wait, not so fast, mister,” I said jokingly. “What else is in here?” 

I dug through some more pictures of Brooke’s dad and pulled out a written letter. It was folded into four and
To Brooke, with love
was written across the front. I unfolded the letter and started reading it. Josh looked at it over my shoulder. It said:

I know we have been best friends a long time, but I have to tell you how I really feel. I am in love with you and have been for quite some time. The thought of you with another guy breaks my heart. I think you and I belong together. I don’t want to destroy our friendship, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t tell you how I really feel. I don’t want to live without you Brooke, and I don’t think I can let you live without me. Please think about it. Love always, Scott.

The letter was dated September 19th, six days before Brooke was killed. My eyebrows shot up in surprise as Josh and I looked at each other in silence. Ohmigod. Scott had it bad for Brooke. I’d talked to him. Stephanie and I even skipped school and drove to Mohawk Centennial High School–and he never mentioned he was in love with her.

I don’t want to live without you Brooke, and I don’t think I can let you live without me.

What if
he
killed Brooke because she didn’t share his feelings? 

“Wow, that’s wild,” murmured Josh.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here.” 

I stuffed the USB stick and letter in my pocket, then closed the locker door and locked it. We scurried out of the bus terminal and hopped back in Josh’s car.

“So, what do we do now?” Josh asked.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? Scott’s obviously the killer. He has a motive.”

“Maybe, but he might have an alibi for the night she was killed. We have to find out where he was the night Brooke was murdered.” 

“Yeah, good point.”

“Let’s go to your house and find out what’s on the flash drive,” I said.

He nodded in agreement as he reversed out of the parking space, then veered through the parking lot. A woman pushing a stroller crossed in front of us, and three teenage girls sporting Urban Behaviour clothes giggled while getting out of a teal blue Prius. He swerved around the people walking into the bus terminal and turned right onto the street.

A short time later, we pulled up to Josh’s massive house. He put the car into
park
and turned off the ignition. We got out of the car, and I followed Josh up the walkway to the antique wooden front door. He unlocked it, and I followed him inside. The entryway floor was made of marble, and high ceilings were all throughout the house. I peeked in the living room and saw that plaque again that said:
Rich people plan for three generations. Poor people plan for Saturday night.

Josh led me up the spiral stairs and into his large bedroom. His double bed was in the center of the room, and a large flat screen TV hung on the wall in front of it. Along the adjacent wall was a shelf full of football trophies. His computer desk occupied the corner next to his closet.

I dug the flash drive out of my pocket and handed it to Josh, then sat down on the bed. He walked over to his computer and brought it to life, then stuck the USB stick into the hard drive and gestured me to come take a look. I sprung off the bed and sprinted towards the computer. As a video started playing, my breath got caught in my throat: Brooke and Mike having sex appeared on the screen. My heart leaped in my chest. I slowly backed away from the computer and covered my mouth with my hand.

“Who is that?” Josh asked.

“That’s Brooke’s ex-boyfriend.”

“How do
you
know him?”

“I thought that maybe he had something to do with Brooke’s murder, so I went to see him.”

He gawked at me in disbelief, and raised his arms to his side “Well…what did he say?”

I sat back down on the bed. “They broke up a few months ago. Plus, he has an alibi for the night she was murdered.”

He looked back at the computer screen and tilted his head.

“Wow, who knew Brooke was so flexible.” I crossed my arms over my chest and smirked.

“Okay, the show’s over.”

Josh quickly pulled out the flash drive.

“Why would she feel the need to keep it hidden in a locker?”

He shrugged his shoulders and stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “Look, why are we just standing here? I think Scott is the best lead we have. The guy was obviously obsessed with her and didn’t want her to be with anybody but him, which gives him a motive. I think we should go to the police.”

“We will, but first we have to find out where he was when Brooke was murdered.”

“How are we gonna do that?” Josh asked.

“I can send him a message on Facebook to meet me somewhere public. I’ll tell him about the letter we found and make him tell me where he was the night Brooke was killed, or else I’ll go to the police with the letter.” Josh gazed at me as the corners of his mouth curved into a smile. “What?” I blurted.

As he slowly stepped towards me and put his hand on my face, I had flutters in my stomach.

He slowly leaned in, whispered, “You bad ass,” into my mouth, then kissed me. As he combed his fingers through my hair, I rested my hands on his hard chest. He kissed me harder, then gently pushed me towards his bed. He lay me down, climbed on top of me, and buried his face in my bare neck. As I ran my hands up and down his back, he placed his hands on my shoulders and slowly lowered them towards my chest.

“Wait…wait…I can’t do this,” I said, sitting up. “I’m not ready...I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” he said.

An awkward silence passed between us, and I bit my lip. “Maybe I should go,” I said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah…I-I might have something to do for my mom…so…”

“Okay…sure…I’ll give you a ride home,” he said, then stood up and extended his hand to me.

I took his hand, and we smiled at each other, then he led me out of his room and down the stairs. We put on our shoes and left.

***

Shortly after dinner, I was in the kitchen helping my mom wash the dishes. Claire, Jessica, and Katie were still avoiding me like the plague, so I didn’t have any plans. When I was done helping my mom, I went to my room and jumped on my computer, then opened a browser and went to Facebook. I went to Scott’s page and wrote him a message, asking him to meet me at
Goodies Café
tomorrow afternoon. When I was done, I plopped myself on my bed. I stared at the ceiling and found myself counting the number of tiles. Before long, my Motorola bleeped. I figured it was Mark texting me back. I got up and picked up my phone from my computer desk, but it wasn’t Mark. It was a text from Stephanie:

Wanna come over and watch a movie or something?

I had to think about it for a second. Things between us had been a little weird ever since she caught me snooping through her things. Plus, I’d accused her of killing Brooke; however, if she was willing to put it behind her, then so was I. Besides, I was in no position to turn away friends.

I texted her back:

Sure. Can you come pick me up? 

She wrote back:

Be there in ten mins.

Stephanie’s mom wasn’t home, so it was just the two of us.

We decided to make some popcorn and put on a movie. We searched Netflix and finally agreed to watch a movie called
Devil.
I loved scary movies, but Stephanie not so much. Every time she got frightened, she looked away; she probably missed more than half the movie. When the movie was done, we went upstairs and painted each other’s nails. I painted her nails black, and she painted mine hot pink.

“Thanks for coming over,” Stephanie said.

“Thanks for inviting me…especially after the other day,” I said. She smirked. “I’m really sorry I accused you of killing Brooke.”