No Accident (9 page)

District Attorney Ramirez reached across the table and, before Tom knew what was happening, clapped him so hard on the back that Tom almost choked on his chicken. “Right, Tom?” he asked heartily.

Tom swallowed hard, feeling his unchewed bite strain against his throat, and nodded but had no idea what he was agreeing to. As usual, he was tuning out his family as much as possible. And keeping his head down. If he could stay off his father's radar, things might get a little easier. The nightmare wedding was going to happen whether he liked it or not.

Besides, he had other stuff to deal with.

He could not stop thinking about what Deirdre had said about the night his mother died. Why had his father lied to her about being out of town? It took a lot of energy to push back all the nagging questions being raised in his mind. It almost made him grateful for the distracting notes that kept appearing.

Tom's secret admirer had upped the deliveries. He was getting notes several times a day now and the notes were getting creepier. Whoever was sending them seemed to know all about him—like that he broke his arm in kindergarten and has a quarter-sized birthmark on his right shoulder, and about his Cap'n Crunch habit…even what time he went to bed Friday night. The note-writer was definitely watching him. The notes were also starting to show up everywhere. In his locker, his mailbox, his bag. He was racing around trying to find them all before anyone else did. Zoey could have a field day teasing him if she knew about it— if she wasn't already having a field day writing the notes just to bait him.

Tom eyed his sister across the table. Who
else could it be? Kelly? Tom's pulse raced at the thought. That girl was amazing.
I'm not lucky enough to have Kelly as an admirer,
he thought soberly.

“Pay attention, Tomas!” His father brought his fist down hard on the dining table, making the serving spoons clatter in their china dishes. He glared over his plate at his son. “Is this how you are in school? No wonder you're only ranked fourth in your class.”

Tom struggled not to narrow his eyes at his father. It would only make things worse.

“You'd better shape up before the wedding, son,” the DA said. “I don't want to see any of your bad attitude in front of the cameras.” He pointed a stubby but manicured finger at each of his children in turn. “I want both of you to be cheerful and smiling in each and every picture,” he ordered. “And in the receiving line as well.”

Tom stared at his food to avoid his father's gaze.

“We will be—because we're so happy,” Zoey deadpanned from across the table.

“Watch it, young lady,” her father said. He glared at his daughter. “And fix your hair before
the wedding. It had better be all one color by then.”

Zoey blinked innocently. “How about pink?”

DA Daddy slammed his fist down and unleashed a tirade at Zoey.

Tom let out a sigh of relief. His sister was a weirdo, but he appreciated her sarcasm—especially when it redirected their father's wrath away from him. He'd take any help he could get with that.

Pushing a chicken bone around the silver-rimmed china, Tom wondered if it was too soon to ask to be excused. He hated to interrupt the fighting, but it was still pretty early, and Tom didn't have much homework that night. Maybe he could call Chad and see if he wanted to hang out for a while. It seemed like they hadn't done that in ages. But ever since he'd hooked up with Kelly, Chad had been kind of lame. He only called when he needed help cheating, and he seemed totally oblivious to everything Tom did for him. If it wasn't for Tom, Chad would have been kicked out of Stafford by now. Then where would he be? Deep inside, Tom wondered if his annoyance
with Chad had more to do with Kelly than homework. Both were seriously bugging him at this point.

Looking up, Tom caught Zoey's eye. The lecture was over. Uncomfortable silence had taken over. Zoey looked teed off, as usual. And totally unapproachable. He and Zoey used to talk about everything. It was like they shared one brain. But what had happened? With a cold shiver Tom put something together he never had before. He didn't lose Zoey to boarding school. He'd lost his sister the same night they both lost their mom. Mom had pulled them together. All their father seemed to do was drive them apart.

Tom rolled over in bed for the hundredth time that night. Sleep was evading him. Again. Every time he started to drift off, he saw images of his mom's face—and was jolted back awake.

Sitting up, he switched on the light and grabbed his laptop from the nightstand.

“
Tommy lost his mommy,
” Deirdre's voice echoed in his head as he opened up his browser. He'd had a hard time shaking that conversation. He Googled the
Silver Spring Herald
and began to search under his mother's name, Susan Ramirez. There were several articles, since she
had been a prominent figure in the community—or at least the wife of one.

“
It must have been so hard with your daddy out of town and everything. You and Zoey were all alone.
” Deirdre's voice was back. Tom clicked on an article dated the day after his mom's car crash and stared.

There was a picture of a huge tow rig pulling a half-demolished vehicle out of the lake—the car his mom had died in. Tom stared at the picture. The car was not his mother's. It was his father's.

Tom's blood ran cold. He had a sudden impulse to throw his computer across the room. He did not want to see what he was seeing, to know what he had just figured out—what he had been too young and too grief-stricken to notice five years before. His mother never drove that car. For one thing, his father never let her. For another, she couldn't drive a stick shift.

With his heart and mind racing, Tom heard an old argument in his mind. He was a little kid again, kneeling on the stairs listening to his parents fighting like it was yesterday.

“You're never here.”

“I'm trying to build a name for us.”

“For us, or for yourself?”

“I'm the one busting my butt.”

“I miss you!”

“Not now, Susan. I'm trying to work.”

“Then when, Dante? When are you going to have time for me? For us? For the kids?”

Silence. Tom had strained to hear a word of kindness or reassurance…anything.

“Don't you love me?”
his mother had said.

“You're pathetic when you're like this. Go to bed before you embarrass yourself.”

Tom remembered tiptoeing to bed, seeing Zoey asleep in the bottom bunk and feeling grateful she had not had to hear what he had. Even so, she heard plenty. Things got worse after that. His mother was plagued by anxiety and depression. She had more and more appointments with more and more doctors. She was always taking pills and watching TV or sleeping. His father was away for longer and longer
periods. Working. When he was home, he complained. He started telling her that people were talking. She wasn't keeping up with her charity work. She wore sweats to the store. She was letting herself go. She was ruining his career. And then…

She was gone.

Beep!

The signal on Tom's phone made him jump. He barely caught his computer before it slid to the floor. He had a text message.

“No, listen to this.” Zoey dumped her popcorn tub in the trash, stopped in the middle walkway of the movie theater, and held up both hands, palms facing Alison. She needed her friend's full attention for this one. She spoke slowly. “They are actually going to have an ice sculpture carved in Deirdre's likeness. An ice sculpture!”

Alison choked on her Diet Coke. She covered her mouth so she wouldn't spray anyone and threw the drink away. The Ramirez wedding was going to be something else.

“I can't believe I'm going to be legally related to her.” Zoey pushed open the door and they
exited the theater into the slanted light of late afternoon. They had decided to hit a matinee since they were both feeling a serious need to escape their houses. The movie was lame, but it felt good to vent to someone who got it. “I'm glad you'll be there to witness the spectacle in person—before it's in all the papers. I mean, not that I want
anyone
to see me in that dress… Did I tell you that Tom has to wear a pink tie and cummerbund?”

Alison cringed. “That is so eighties,” she groaned.

“And he isn't even complaining.” It was beyond Zoey how her brother could take all of this insanity in stride. He wasn't whining or getting mad or…come to think of it, he wasn't doing anything. He wasn't saying a word. He was practically a zombie—a far cry from the brother she used to know. “Maybe he was brainwashed when I was away at school.” Zoey smirked at the idea. If it would make him a better son-of-a-candidate, her dad might actually do it.

“Maybe he's just distracted,” Alison suggested, leading them toward a café. “He works
pretty hard at school and stuff. And he doesn't have a tutor like you.” Alison nudged Zoey playfully.

Zoey bristled. Why was Alison bringing up Jeremy? Her best friend and her tutor seemed waaay too interested in each other.

“He's cute, huh?” she said casually, searching Alison's face for a reaction. She really hoped Alison didn't have a crush on him. She wasn't sure she could take that.

“Definitely. I don't know how you get any studying done,” Alison teased. “It must be hard to concentrate.”

Zoey's heart dropped as she got in line. “So do you like him?” she asked. She didn't want to hear it, but she had to know.

“No! I mean, yes. But not like that! For you. You know.”

Zoey felt the hairs on the back of her neck lay back down while Alison stammered on, tripping over her own tongue. She believed Alison was not interested in Jeremy. If she was, she wouldn't have teased. Her sense of humor was not that biting. Come to think of it, Alison's humor was a lot like Jeremy's. Both of them
were fun and liked to joke around, but not in a mean way.

Knowing Alison wasn't into Jeremy only solved half of Zoey's problem, though. Jeremy was definitely obsessed with the Rose family. And if Jeremy —nice, safe, sweet Jeremy—decided to go after Alison, how could Zoey object? Because, let's face it, the girl didn't get a lot of “nice” in her life.

“Whatever.” Zoey shrugged the whole thing off, changing the subject. “At least I'm doing well in school.”

“Um. That's an understatement.”

“Yeah, well, it seems to have earned me a new best enemy,” Zoey said.

“Who, Audra? Don't worry about her—she's always been like that,” Alison said.

“Like what? Crazy?”

With their drinks in hand, the girls found a table by a window so they could watch the shoppers go by. They sat silently for a minute, then Zoey leaned across the small table. “So, are you gonna tell me what's in those papers you needed me to stash the other night?”

Alison leaned in, too, lowering her voice
until it was almost a whisper. “They have to do with the key to the case against my mom,” she said. “It's totally crazy. I know I can trust you. But I don't know what to do, Zoey. My grandmother is involved in the whole thing. She's the reason my mom is in jail and now I'm
living
with her. If she found out I have evidence against her can you imagine what she'd do to
me
? What if I showed someone the papers and my mom still got convicted? I mean, just because my grandmother is involved, that doesn't mean my mom is innocent.”

Alison looked completely spooked. For a second Zoey was sorry she'd brought it up. She'd wanted Alison to tell her about the papers so she wouldn't feel so guilty about having looked at them. She'd figured out that some of them were accounting papers, payroll or something, but the names on them had not been familiar at all…except for Tamara Diamond's. Zoey'd had no idea they were a key piece of evidence in the biggest trial in the state. DA Daddy would probably kill to get his hands on them. Good thing he wasn't Helen Rose's prosecutor.

“Should I give them to my mom's lawyers?” Alison's eyes were pleading. She was shouldering a heavy burden and looking to unload.

Zoey wished she could help. But she didn't really trust lawyers —especially her own father. “I wish I could tell you what to do,” Zoey said. “But to tell you the truth, I have absolutely no idea.”

The door to the chemistry lab opened and students filed out. Chad pushed his way in, like a salmon swimming upstream. Quickly he made his way over to the table where he and Kelly always sat. Chad had been surprised when Kelly'd offered to pair up with him at the beginning of the school year—Chad was still with Alison back then. He probably would be getting a better grade now if he'd said no and signed up with Tom, but he had the hottest partner on campus—and that had to count for something. Smiling to himself, Chad fished his work out of his bag.

Ever since the big blowup at his house, he
had been feeling better. His parents were fighting less, which was helping Will settle down and sleep better. Dustin hadn't called in almost a week. And the best yet —Kelly was not moving away. It seemed like his luck was on an upswing. He hadn't felt this good since…well, since he and Alison first got together. Now that he thought about it, it felt a lot like that. Maybe it was because he knew he could really trust Kelly now. That she was always going to be there for him. She was so nice to Will, he felt bad for ever thinking she would have a problem with him.

Really, Kelly's response to his little brother was more than Chad could have hoped for. He was falling for Kelly in a whole new way. Maybe soon he would tell her about the other things going on with him, like his family, his money troubles, and his free ride at school. Maybe she wouldn't care. She liked
him
, right? That other stuff didn't matter.

Chad popped open a Red Bull and settled in to finish his homework before the bell. He had skipped breakfast, as usual. He never had an
appetite in the morning. But when he was getting dressed he noticed he had to tighten his belt another notch. He was so busy lately that he was losing weight. His clothes had gotten a little baggy.

Sliding onto the stool beside him, Kelly flashed Chad her electric smile. “You know, there's a reason they call it
home
work,” she joked. “You're supposed to do it at home.”

“I know.” Chad smiled back, turning his full attention to Kelly. He loved the way she sat on the stool, hooking the heel of one boot on the cross bar and slinging one leg over the other. “I got kinda busy with Will and…” Chad trailed off when he saw Kelly looking at that new girl, X, on the other side of the room. He didn't want to bore Kelly with details of his home life. “Almost done,” he apologized.

Tom came in and sat down with his lab partner, Audra, without looking their way. Chad tried to catch his eye, to let him know he was doing his own work today, but Tom never looked over.

Mr. Thomsen collected the papers as soon as
the bell rang. Chad had finished all but one. Not bad. Now if he could just stay awake through class…

Chad's eyes crossed and his head lolled dangerously on his shoulders when a buzzing in his jacket pocket startled him awake. His cell phone was vibrating. Who in the world would call him during class? Getting to his feet, he lunged across the room for the bathroom pass and made it out to the corridor before the phone rang a third time.

“Hello?” He held his breath as he hurried down the hall, hoping the call had nothing to do with Will.

“Bro'.”

Dustin. Why hadn't he looked at the caller ID?

“Oh, it's you.” Chad was hardly ever happy to hear from Dustin. Today was no different. “What do you want?” he asked, sitting down on the stairs.

“Why you gotta be like that?” Dustin sounded hurt. “Why do you always think the worst?”

“You called me during chemistry.”

“Right. You're in school. Right. I'll get to the point. I just called to say bye.”

“Good-bye?”

“Right. I'm taking off for a little while. Pursuing a business interest out of town. But I need you to cover for me. Tell Mom and Dad you've seen me around at my new place, okay?”

Chad groaned. Whatever Dustin was up to, Chad didn't want to be involved. “So you're
not
moving into the new place?”

“No, and—”

“So, where have you been living?” Chad pictured Dustin on the streets, sleeping under cardboard like the people in doorways in D.C.

“Don't worry, everything's cool. I'll catch you later. Thanks for everything, little bro'.”

“Hey. Where are you?” Chad asked again. But there was no response. The line was dead.

A sharp pain under his brow forced Chad to close his eyes tightly. A warm trickle of blood on his face made them fly open again. He had a bloody nose—a gusher—and nothing to stop the flow with. Leaning over so he would not get blood on his shirt, he watched it drip in dark red circles on the tile. Carefully he pinched his
nostrils closed and tipped his head back. He couldn't see much, but if he could just get to the bathroom…

“Need a hand?”

The voice was familiar. Cocking his head a little, Chad could just see Alison on the landing above him. They hadn't talked since that night in Tamara Diamond's pool. Chad hadn't thought they would ever talk again and felt suddenly guilty at how happy he was to hear her voice.

“Oh, Chad!” Alison hurried down the steps, digging in her purse for some tissues. She pressed them into Chad's hand, the one holding his nose, and took him by the other elbow. “Whoa.” She looked at the floor. “That's a lot of blood. Did somebody punch you?”

“No,” Chad said through his pinched and muffled nose, though in a weird way he did feel like he had just suffered a major blow.