“I still think you should call him.” Jackson eyed the house.
“I need to do this,” I said, defiantly. “Reid has been helping me since the day I met him. I need him to see me as more than a charity case.”
Jackson frowned. “He already does. You’re getting in your head too much!”
The wind whistled as I glanced from the house back to Jackson. A seed of doubt creeped into my mind, but I brushed it away.
“You’re not backing out on me, are you?” I asked. This plan hinged on Jackson helping. He looked the part too, dressed in a blue jumpsuit, a thick coat, and a neon orange vest he just happened to have lying around from an old Halloween costume.
He sighed. “No. No. I’m here for your crazy plan. Besides, this will put those improv classes to good use.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Let’s not go overboard on the improv.”
He held up a hand. “Hazel, I’m a professional. Now, what the fuck is this guy’s name again?”
“Callum.”
My blood boiled just saying the name.
That fucking asshole. I should have known. The second I saw my beloved tie-dye sweatshirt in the corner of his video, I had put it together. It was the same sweatshirt Paul had lent him, the one he’d said he hadno cluewhat happened to.
I’d never liked Callum all that much, but I couldn’t believe he’d stoop so low. We were friends. I mean, kind of. As much as anyone could be friends with their boyfriend-at-the-time’s slightly misogynistic best friend. I always thought he was a little dense, and way too eager to say “yes” to whatever Paul wanted. But we’d hung out foryears. I’d even stayed with Paulin this very house when we’d first moved out here, for crying out loud. Granted, the house was gross, and I’d made Paul find us an apartment almost immediately, butstill.
Reid and I had been so preoccupied with the idea that Paul could have done this, I hadn’t even considered Callum. To be fair, even if we had considered him as a suspect, I would have assumed there’d be no way in hell he could pull off something like this.
Reid must have been right. It had been a crime of opportunity. For whatever reason, Callum had been at my apartment that day. Probably to ask for money, knowing him. I’d redownloaded my apps to scroll back through my messages from weeks ago, and he had replied to my lottery win story with a jokey meme about begging for money. I’d responded with a ‘lol’ and thought that was it. But it clearly wasn’t. He’d come to my apartment, and when he saw me leave Vermont alone, he must have acted on impulse.
The fucker.
I’d probably never get a true explanation, because I had absolutely zero intention of confronting him.
“How much time do you think you can buy me?” I asked Jackson while we stood at the edge of the property line, on the sidewalk.
Jackson frowned and looked at the white house with its peeling siding. “I don’t know. Maybe, like, five minutes? My limited electrical knowledge won’t last me long.”
“That should be all I need,” I said.
The plan was simple.
Jackson would knock on the door and pretend to be from the city. He’d show Callum a line that needed work at the edge of his property, on the side of the house, just far enough away from the front door to break his line of sight. He’d force Callum to fill out a fake survey we’d printed off and I’d be able to slip in, find Vermont, and exit out the back door.
In. Out. It would only take a few minutes.
“You ready?” I asked, stepping behind the tree so I couldkeep an eye on the door and spring into action as soon as Callum took the bait.
“Areyouready?” Jackson asked. “This is insane.”
“Let’s just get it over with before I change my mind.”
Jackson gawked at me. “Seriously? No. you should think this through.”
“Go,” I hissed, waving him away as I huddled behind the tree. He staggered out and pulled the baseball cap he wore tighter over his head.
If last night hadn’t cemented the friendship, this surely would. Or he’d think I was a nut after this and never speak to me again. But if I knew one thing about Jackson, it was that he lived for the drama. The way he sauntered up to Callum’s front steps told me he was immediately falling into character. I would have laughed had I not been so on edge.
He knocked and I stopped breathing.
I counted.
