to catch a train.
“Whatever, Larry, it was great. Wanna do it again?”
“Now?” Larry saw his life pass before his eyes. He needed a gym membership and a box of Viagra, stat.
“No, whenever. ‘Would you buy from this vendor again?’ ”
No. “I’ll call you.”
“Fine.” Lacy slipped into her skirt, then put on her high heels. “Do you like these?”
“Yes,” Larry said, because that was always the right answer with women. He waited for the follow-up questions, like with Allie: Are they too slutty? Are they not slutty enough? Are you sure? Are you sure? Are you sure?
“Gotta go.” Lacy flashed a smile and left, closing the door behind her.
CHAPTER 65
Allie Garvey
Allie entered the woods. Moving a branch aside, she made her way between the trees, which had grown closer together, the limbs heavier. The temperature dropped in the shade, and she crushed dried leaves and twigs underfoot. Though that night had haunted her ever since, she’d never come back here. The trees were so overgrown, providing a leafy bower that blocked the sun, leaving her feeling like she was back twenty years ago, on the night of her first kiss, and first murder.
Allie felt tears come to her eyes again, but she blinked them away, moving forward, almost tripping on a log underfoot, feeling something scratch her shin. The trail that used to be here had grown over, and she guessed that the track team no longer ran here, after Kyle. She kept going, making her way to the bottom of the hill, finally spotting the bent tree. She felt her heart stop with recognition. The four of them. Kyle. The gunshot.
She breathed, then kept walking down the hill, descending into a nightmare. She reached the tree, which had aged like a person. It seemed stooped, and its branches held fewer leaves. Twenty years was a long time in the life of a tree, as it was in a woman’s. She touched the trunk with her fingertips, then looked down at the roots. She remembered where the bullets had been, since it was all coming back to her now. Since she was embracing the memories instead of pushing them away. Maybe they could help, not harm, as awful as they were.
She walked off a few paces, then squatted and moved dried leaves, grass, and twigs, and started digging. It must’ve rained recently because the earth was soft, but she took off her pump and used it to go faster, scratching the ground with the heel. After a few minutes, she spotted an edge of the box of bullets.
Her heart beat harder. She dug faster, exposing more and more of the box. She wrenched it from the earth. The cardboard was soft and molded in spots, but intact. It was the same yellow she remembered, and on the top it read REMINGTON. CONTAINS FIFTY BULLETS.
Allie sat down cross-legged, tore open the box, and emptied the bullets onto the hammock made by her dress. The bullets rolled around, clacking dully into each other. Their jackets were a shiny bronze. Their rounded tips were copper. They gleamed lethally in the patch of sun, a sight both horrid and lovely against the black fabric, like a jeweler’s velvet.
Allie collected her thoughts, trying to stay calm. Sasha and Julian claimed they hadn’t loaded the gun the night Kyle was shot, and they had used fifteen bullets at the construction site. If they were lying, there would be fewer than thirty-five bullets in the box. If they were telling the truth, there should be all thirty-five.
“One, two, three, four,” Allie said, counting out slowly so she didn’t screw up. Her hands trembled. She reached thirty bullets, surprised to see so many still left. She counted off the last ones. Thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five. Thirty-five bullets.
Allie recoiled, stunned. She counted the bullets again, but reached the same number. Thirty-five. She counted them one more time, just to make sure, and came to the same total. Thirty-five.
Allie sat back, trying to understand the implications. So the bullet that had killed Kyle had not come from this box, which meant that neither Julian nor Sasha had killed him. None of them had loaded the gun. None of them had done it. They couldn’t have gotten the bullet elsewhere. They’d been too young to buy bullets. Julian had stolen them from the job trailer, so they’d have no reason to get them elsewhere.
Allie gasped. She felt shaken to her very bones. It was a revelation that changed everything. She’d believed