The Secrets of Lily Graves (23 page)

After Matt and I gave our written statements and we were driving back to my house, I had a thought.

“Do you have Kate Kline's number?”

Matt reached in his pocket and handed his phone to me. “Here. Why?”

“She won't listen to me, but she'll listen to you.” I looked up her number. “When she gets on, tell her that Allie tried to kill herself tonight and that the cops are at the hospital where Erin wants her and Cheyenne to go and do the right thing.”

“Erin?” Matt grimaced. “She's dead.”

“In body only. In Kate's imagination, I have no doubt she's very much alive.”

When we got to my house, Matt parked at the car and made the call. I could hear Kate's voice from my side of the truck.

“Allie tried to kill herself tonight,” he said somberly. “She's at the hospital and so are two detectives named
Zabriskie and Henderson. You and Cheyenne need to get in your cars and go over there and tell them what happened on Saturday night.” He paused. “Why?”

I couldn't believe she was being so stubborn about this—especially after what had happened to Allie.

“Because,” he said, “that's what Erin wants. And she won't rest until you do. Enough is enough, Kate. This needs to end.”

Kate said nothing. Then she hung up.

Matt tossed the phone on the seat. “I tried.”

“If she doesn't go to the cops, then she has no soul. Speaking of which, is that who I think it is?”

I jutted my chin toward something black, camouflaged under the majestic oak by our driveway.

“It's a motorcycle,” Matt said.

“It's not the bike. It's him,” I said, pointing to the small orange glow ebbing in the shadows, indicating the lit end of a cigarette. “That's Stone Bone.”

Matt gaped. “How can you tell?”

“Because he left a message in the guest book last night saying I had something he wanted.”

“What's that?”

“A coffee cup he was using that I gave to the cops for fingerprints.”

Matt shook his head. “You are such a badass.”

I tried to stop grinning at him stupidly.

“Think I'll go introduce myself,” Matt said, sliding out of the truck.

I watched as he coolly approached Stone Bone and coaxed him out of the shadows. Greetings were exchanged. They joked around and laughed. I sat there, totally confused. Were they friends? Had I been suckered into believing otherwise?

Matt lifted his right hand to high-five him and Bone didn't leave him hanging. Fast as lightning, Matt delivered a neat uppercut with his other fist, smack into Alex's jaw so hard I heard the crack. Stone Bone went flying into his bike, which promptly fell over with a crash, cursing and thrashing about.

Now I knew why left-handers didn't live as long as right-handers.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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E
rin was laid to rest in Hillside Cemetery the next morning under the bright-blue skies of an Indian summer day. While the crowds at St. Anne's Catholic Church spilled out the door and down to the sidewalk, they respected the Donohue family's wish that the burial be private.

And so Boo and I, in our black suits, supervised from several feet away as Erin's coffin, draped with white lilies and roses, was carried from the hearse on the shoulders several pallbearers, one of whom was Matt.

Standing at erect attention by their parked cruisers on the cemetery access road, Perfect Bob and Detectives Zabriskie and Henderson also observed. Waiting,
I supposed, for the moment when the coffin was lowered into the ground, the final good-byes were said, and handfuls of dirt thrown.

Only then could they arrest Matt for the murder of his former girlfriend.

Boo gave me a nudge. “Have faith,” she whispered.

“They're here because they want to make sure he doesn't flee,” I said. At the bottom of the hill sat two other cruisers, their blue lights flashing.

“It'll all work out,” Boo said. “Trust your auntie.”

The pallbearers placed the coffin on its brass winch, and then Matt took his place next to Mrs. Donohue, who hooked her arm in his as the priest asked God to wipe from Erin her every last sin and reminded us that, once dust, it is to dust we must return.

My mother activated the winch and the coffin lowered slowly while Erin's mother wept uncontrollably. Matt bent down and took a handful of dirt that he gave to Mrs. Donohue, who murmured a prayer and let it fall. Everyone did the same until only Matt was left. He bowed his head and said, “Peace,” as he tossed the final clump.

The priest closed his prayer book and everyone bowed their heads.

“Into your hands, oh Lord, we commit the body and soul of Erin Anne Donohue.” He made the sign of the cross. “Peace be upon you who love Erin Anne and know
that the Lord Christ himself promised that those who believe in him and with him will receive eternal life.”

There were murmurs of “Amen” and then that was it. They lingered and hugged. Matt stood to the side as the Donohue family snaked their way to the limousines.

Bob went over to my mother while Detectives Zabriskie and Henderson crossed the cemetery. Matt glanced at me and winked, but made no attempt to run.

“I have to see what's happening,” I said.

“Don't,” Boo said. “Let him go.”

It was too late. I ran as best as I could, despite my heels, which kept sinking into the grass. I could hear Mom say something like, “It's okay, Lily,” but I didn't care. I needed to be there for him.

Detective Zabriskie turned to me, alarmed. “Is something wrong?”

I couldn't speak. It was the oddest of questions. “I guess that's what I should be asking you.”

“Not as far as I'm concerned. It was a beautiful funeral.” He gave my shoulder a paternalistic pat. “Sad, of course, but tasteful.”

There were no handcuffs. No rights being read. And Zabriskie was acting like my long-lost uncle. “Aren't you going to arrest us?” I asked.

Matt laughed. “Thanks, Lil. What are you trying to do, get me locked away?”

I was so confused.

“Oh,” Zabriskie said, straightening. “I was sure you would have told her, but . . . Well, last night at the hospital when we were wrapping up our questioning of Miss Woo, Detective Henderson and I were approached by two friends of yours, Kate Kline and Cheyenne Day, who wanted to amend their statements about what happened at Erin's house on Saturday night.”

Matt raised his eyebrows. “Smart move, making the call to Kate.”

“Apparently, both girls had been afraid that if they came forward and delivered testimony on one Alex Bone that said Mr. Bone would harm them.” Zabriskie thumbed over his shoulder to Matt. “As luck would have it, however, your knight in shining armor here notified dispatch reporting that he had just, uh,
taken out
Mr. Bone in front of the Graves Funeral Home and that he was worried Mr. Bone might follow through on various threats to do you harm as well, Lily.”

I blushed.

Zabriskie continued. “Mr. Houser also managed to remember the license plate of the motorcycle, and we were able to apprehend Mr. Bone shortly thereafter and detain him on charges that he had violated his probation by driving under the influence and committing assault and criminal threatening. We are waiting to see
if his DNA matches that which we found under Erin's nails. In the meantime, he's not going anywhere.”

Trying to get back into my good graces, Bob said, “See, Lily, the swab was worth it.”

“Do you think he actually killed Erin, though?” Mom asked.

Zabriskie let Henderson answer that one. “What we know, according to the statements of the two girls who came forward last night, is that what appeared to have started out as Erin's infatuation with the older, more experienced so-called bad boy Alex Bone rapidly devolved into an unhealthy relationship. Mr. Bone imagined himself as Erin's liberator, introducing her to drugs, sex, and whatnot, while Erin became increasingly scared of his attempt to control her.”

Matt said, “That explained her hot-and-cold attitude toward me. Wanted me to stay. Wanted me to go. I wished she'd just told the truth.”

“So what's happens next?” I asked.

“Next, we take Matt down to the station so he can write up a statement on his altercation with Mr. Bone and positively ID him,” Henderson said. “Then we hope to do a lineup with the Krezkys to see if he was the man they saw arguing with Erin on Saturday night.”

Not likely. Sara said the Krezkys told her that guy was the spitting image of Matt.

“The fingerprints on the cup you gave us did match ones we found on a bottle of formalin in Erin's house,” Bob said. “Excellent work.”

Mom beamed. So did Bob.

“Alex was soaking cigarettes in formalin and selling them,” I said.

Henderson nodded. “We executed a search warrant earlier this morning. Possession of neither formaldehyde nor tobacco is illegal, though.” He sucked his teeth. “There's a legal loophole that needs to be closed.”

That was it, then. The nightmare was over. Alex Bone had killed Erin, as I'd suspected, and Matt wasn't going to jail, and neither was I. Ten minutes ago, I'd been certain he was about to be arrested and now, not only was he free, but Zabriskie had called him a knight in shining armor.

“Can you give me minute?” Matt asked, as Henderson and Zabriskie made to go back to their cruiser.

“One,” Zabriskie said, smiling. “We're on a tight schedule.”

Matt took me aside. Placing his hands on my shoulders and touching his forehead to mine, he said, “Okay, I'm leaving with these dudes to do the paperwork, but when I'm done I'm coming back and you and I are going to start all over.”

I smiled. “What do you mean, all over?”

“No lies. No bullshit story about needing to pass an exam. No crazy girlfriend. Just the two of us. Alone. Finally.” He put his lips to my ear. “We've got a lot of making . . . um, up to do.”

A tingling danced across my heart. “Meet me in my garden at five?”

“Five it is. I can't wait.”

Of course, I still had questions. For example, the Persephone necklace. How did that end up snagged on a tree in Erin's backyard the day after the murder? Then there was the issue of the man Erin was seen arguing with.

Alex Bone was thin and lanky, with long black hair. I supposed the ponytail might have accounted for it appearing short, but he bore absolutely no resemblance to Matt, whose broad shoulders and height alone distinguished him from Bone.

But since the police had cleared Matt, I was positive there had to be a reasonable explanation. It would emerge eventually, I was sure.

After cleaning up Erin's gravesite, I went home, took a long, hot shower, donned my short black dress, which I paired with fishnets, slipped my feet into a new pair of suede boots, and climbed through my window to the garden.

The stars were out, barely visible above the dark, bare branches in the twilight, and they imbued the garden with a magical feel. Matt was leaning against the wall, waiting.

“Hey,” he said, coming toward me.

“Hey yourself.”

We stood inches apart. I let myself take in everything: the Panthers jacket, the whiteness of the clean button-down shirt underneath, how he smelled of shampoo and Irish Spring soap with a hint of jock.

He reached out and stroked my cheek. “We can go somewhere. Or . . .”

I didn't want to wait. I'd done enough of that. “Or what?”

“Or . . .” His hand slid behind my head, running my hair through his fingers as he bent down. Our lips touched briefly, and then again as I pulled him to me and his arms wrapped around my back.

He lifted his mouth from mine and kissed my ear, then my neck, sending electric shocks down my middle to my thighs, my toes, and everywhere in between. He pushed me against the garden wall and sucked my lower lip, and then kissed me deeper. I felt his hand on my waist, exploring.

“Hold on,” I said, pushing him away. “I live in a house with three other woman, including my very
perceptive grandmother on the top floor.”

“Yeah?” he said, tracing the sinews of my neck with his lips.

“So, we should go somewhere else.”

He planted a kiss on my collarbone. “Where?”

Anyplace but my house. “We could go to the tomb. No one will find us there.”

Matt stopped kissing me and grinned. “You don't want anyone to find us, huh? You sure that's safe?”

“I don't care about safe.” And I boosted myself over the wall.

Matt and I made it all the way to the cemetery and, having hidden the truck on a side alley in case Perfect Bob was on patrol and still trying to suck up to my mother by turning me in, we were about to sneak through the hole in the fence when my phone blared.

“It's Sara,” I said, feeling a tug at my heart.

Matt groaned. “Don't answer it.”

“I have to. She's leaving tomorrow straight after church and I won't talk to her for probably a year.” I pressed Answer. “Hey!”

“Where are you?” Sara's voice was thick, like she'd been crying, and I knew, right then, that my plans with Matt were ruined.

“At the cemetery. Did you get my email?” I'd sent
her the rundown about Alex Bone and Kate and Cheyenne's last-minute crisis of conscience.

“Yeah, that's awesome. I'm so glad it's over and that Matt's not going to jail.”

Matt put his head against the fence, frustrated.

“Are you stopping by to see me before I go?” Sara asked pitifully. “Tonight is our last chance. Mom's out buying stuff for the trip and Dad's picking up Brandon for a birthday party.”

So it was as I'd suspected. It wasn't just Potsdam the McMartins decided had corrupted Sara. It was me.