“What’s going on?” I ask, dropping my bag to the floor and taking the seat across from her.
Anjali glances around like she’s trying to see if someone is coming. “Don’t move. Either of you.” She points to Olivia and then rushes over to Mayor Cho’s office, slipping in through the door.
“Do you have any idea what’s up?” I ask.
Olivia leans forward and ducks her head down like she doesn’t want anyone to hear. “Detective Hampton’s here,” Olivia whispers. “Apparently the Vreelands are throwing afitbecause they kept Justin in there overnight.”
“Whoa.” I lean in.
“Yup. His parents got him out first thing this morning.” Olivia cups her hand over her mouth. “Not even twenty-four hours in custody. But they confiscated his passport. At least, that’s what Aunt Sally said.”
“They think he’s gonna flee or something?”
“I guess so.”
“They must be waiting to see if his DNA matches whatever they found on the boat.”
Olivia wrinkles her nose. “Uncle Reid is awreck. It’s obvious what happened.”
“It is?”
“I mean, yeah. Multiple people said they saw Justin and Billy fight at the party, so later that night, he probably went to the boat to go after him again. Billy was being a dick to Justin, but he didn’t deservethis.”
I glance up at the closed door and wonder what they’re saying in there. Justin has been as much a part of Pelican Island as the sandpipers or the beach cruiser rental stand at the corner of Shore Road and West Street. He’s third-generation, and there’s even a Vreeland gymnasium at our school, named after his grandparents, who ponied up millions for the facilities. Not to mention the fact that his family started Hot Diggity, which has been around for forty years.
I never understood why Justin became the de facto dealer. Why he deemed his future worth throwing away. It wasn’t about money. Of course not. Power, maybe. A perpetual invite to whatever was happening. But it seemed so foolish. So careless.
“I don’t really know him very well. Do you think he is capable of something like this?” Olivia asks. Her voice is quiet but sharp, and she’s pressing her teeth into her bottom lip, her fingers curled around the armrest of her chair.
“I have no idea,” I say. But then I remember the file I found yesterday. I lean in toward Olivia. “Did you know that Mr.and Mrs.Godwin were cutting down trees on the Vreelands’ property?” Iquickly fill her in on the tree house drama I found in the files, but Olivia just shakes her head.
“That is the most suburban shit ever,” Olivia says. “But I can’t imagine that would lead tothis.”
“I don’t know. It’s hard to imagineanyoneon Pelican Island would be capable of this.” My fingers tense as a rush of fear surges through me. It’s not like I’ve said more than “hello” to Justin in the hallways. He never popped up in mock trial or my AP classes. He was justsomeonewho lived here, too. No one I wanted to engage with. Someone who always indicated danger, which has never appealed to me.
Safety, though. That’s what draws me in. To me, safety has always meant learning the rules of Pelican Island—knowing the familiar faces in town and which beaches require local permits, avoiding the jagged coastlines at high tide, being aware of the last train home from the city, spending time in the comfortable company of Ethan, of Erica, of my sisters. Danger has not been a part of my life on Pelican Island. The stuff you hear about on the news—violent gangs and armed robberies—are unheard of. So is spending too much time off-island with kids who go to different schools with parents mine don’t know.
But now I wonder if my definition of safety is all wrong. If I’m mistakingsafetyforfamiliarityand that perhaps they are not the same. The thought sends a rattling through my body.
I haven’t beensafe. I’ve been sheltered.
Olivia settles into her seat beside me, and pretty soon she sucks in a breath of air. “She’s leaving.”
Mayor Cho’s office door slides open, and Detective Hamptonappears, hunching her shoulders as she heads toward the door. Anjali walks her out, and Olivia and I stand, craning our necks to see Hampton get into her squad car and drive out of the parking lot.
Anjali darts back inside, making a beeline to us. “Why don’t you two take the rest of the day off?” she asks.
“You don’t need any help with…” I nod in the direction of Hampton’s car.
“We’ll see you tomorrow.” She raps her knuckles on top of my cubicle and hurries away, slipping back into Mayor Cho’s office.
“Do you think they’re trying to get rid of us?” I ask, but Olivia is already gathering her things.
“One hundred percent,” she says, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Let’s do them a favor and get out of here.”
Ten minutes later, Olivia and I settle into a corner booth at Little Vincenzo’s, the pizza spot in town.
“I cannot believe how much I’ve missed this,” she says.
