Page 118 of I Will Ruin You

“You say you came back with food and Billy was dead. If they did it, why’d they leave the bag there? Why’d they leave it for you to take?”

Stuart went very quiet for a moment.

“Maybe... maybe they killed him, and figured the shit wasn’t going anywhere, and they were going to come back later and get it.”

“Why?” I asked, pressing him. “What would they be thinking? Okay, we just killed this guy, let’s grab a drink, and then we’ll come back? Who’d be that stupid?”

Stuart was looking annoyed. “What fucking difference does it make?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it might be kind of important to you, being Billy’s friend and all.”

It was possible Stuart was right. What fucking difference did it make? Still, something seemed wrong.

“Headlights,” Stuart said.

There was a car coming down Viscount. It slowed as it reached the end of the street, then turned into the lot.

A black four-door Audi.

“That’s them,” I said.

Fifty-Five

Bonnie was running through the halls of Lodge High, calling out her husband’s name. She’d been to his homeroom and the library and was heading to the office when she encountered Trent running toward her from the other direction.

“Have you seen him?” she asked, nearly collapsing into his arms. “He’s not in his room, he’s not anywhere.”

He put a hand on each of her shoulders to steady her. “I was just outside, talking to the police, to your sister. She said he’s gone.”

“Oh God, tell me they don’t think Richard had anything—”

“No, no, he’s with some man who’s—it sounds like this man has taken him hostage or something, and that he’s the one who shot Herb.”

“Hostage?”

“They left in the man’s truck. Richard driving.”

“What is happening? Why would someone— I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I. I hung in for part of the parents’ meeting and it seemed to be going well. No shouting, no crazy accusations. Something must have happened after I slipped out. I came back to my office and I heard the shot.”

Trent swallowed hard, looking almost as shaken as Bonnie. “I couldn’t believe it was happening again. Another school attack.”

Bonnie noticed Trent was holding his hand over the pocket of his jacket. There was something large and bulky there that he didn’t want falling out.

“What’s that?” Bonnie asked.

“It’s nothing,” he said.

“Trent.”

He lowered his eyes, looking as though he’d been caught stealing from a candy jar. He pulled the butt end of a gun from the pocket, just enough so Bonnie could see what it was. It was, he told her, the one he admitted, after the LeDrew incident, to keeping locked up in the bottom drawer of his office desk.

Bonnie recoiled when she saw it, as though the weapon’s very presence signaled the gravity of the situation.

“Only if there’s an emergency,” Trent said. “I’d really rather not use it at all, but when I heard the shot—”

“Fine, whatever. We have to find Richard, we have to figure out where—”