To River, Jem said, “Somebody said something to you.Or you saw something.”
River’s voice sharpened when she said, “What?Nobody told me anything.They said Rydel was strange.Big surprise—he grew up to be a serial killer.The yearbook pictures are what you’d expect: a boy who looks very unhappy.The neighbors—the ones who would talk to me—told me they never really knew him because that family kept to itself.”She drew a breath.“I can’t stop thinking about it.If someone’s following me, it’s because they don’t like me poking around.But why?I didn’tlearnanything.”
“These guys don’t know that, though,” Jem said.“Even if they did, I’m not sure they’d care.They think you’re a threat; that’s what matters.”
River let out a frustrated sound.It faded.And then they stood there with nothing but the hum of the ventilation system.
“You still haven’t told us why you followed us,” Tean said.
“I thought—” River paused.“I thought you might know something.”
“Know what?”Jem asked.
“I don’t know.Some of the Youngs’ neighbors knew you’d been involved in the investigation.They knew you’d found the Youngs’ son.And that means you were in that house.And you knew—I don’t know.Who it was.Who was following me.”
Jem stared at her.Then he said, “Nice try.”
“That’s the truth!”
“Sure, but it’s not all of it.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“If you’re scared, you show up on our doorstep.You knock on our door.You say, ‘Someone’s following me, and I think you might be able to help me,’ and you tell us this whole story.You don’t follow me when I leave work.You sure as fuck don’t follow us up into the mountains, come inside, and stare at us across the bar.”
She hesitated.And then she said, “It’s going to be a good story.”
“Jesus Christ,” Jem said.
“You don’t understand.Nobody’s talking about this because the police have shut it down.The news ran with it for a little while.It was the headline for a week.And all they talked about was this serial killer, and the boy who’d been rescued, and then it was over—the next thing, and we all move on.”
“You’re out of your fucking mind,” Jem told her.
“There’s still a killer out there, and nobody cares that he got away.Killers, plural, if you’re telling the truth.And you two are the only ones who have seen them and walked away from it.That’s the kind of stuff that’s not just a YouTube story or a podcast; it’s a book.It’s got ‘made for TV’ written all over it.”
Jem spat on the concrete and shook his head.He said over his shoulder, “Let’s go.”
“You said there’s more than one of them.Aren’t you worried about what they might do?Don’t you feel any sort of responsibility?The police are acting like it’s nothing—like it’s all under control.But it’snotunder control.Don’t you care about any of that?”
“Sorry, you lost me when you got those dollar signs in your eyes.”
“Why?What’s so wrong with wanting to do my job?With wanting to tell this story?I’m a human being.I care about these people who have been hurt; that’s why I started doing this job.I shouldn’t feel bad about wanting to make a living at it.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jem could see Tean shaking his head.“Sorry, lady,” he said.“You’re on your own.And just for the record: no comment.Leave us alone.Stop following us.And if you break into my room again, my boyfriend will beat you up.”
Tean cleared his throat.“He’s joking about that part.”
“Nope.Not even a little bit.”He turned, taking Tean’s arm to start him walking up the ramp, and shot back, “Oh, and don’t worry about the car, by the way.”
“Is that supposed to be funny?”
Jem glanced back.River had clamped her mouth shut, but one corner trembled.Her eyes were bright, and she was hugging herself again.
“What?”Jem said.
She laughed, but it sounded wet, and swept one hand out at the SUV.“This joke or stunt or whatever it is—it’s sick.”
Under Jem’s hand, Tean’s arm was rigid.
