Page 22 of Trapper Road

The girl flinches at my tone, but stands firm. “She’s missing, you know. The girl who lives there. Juliette. She’s my best friend.” I notice everything is in the present tense, and I almost feel sorry for this girl having hope. I’m about to tell her that when Connor leans over from the backseat, not so subtly jabbing his elbow into my arm in the process.

“We know,” he says, voice full of sympathy. “My mom’s a private investigator. She’s here to look for Juliette.

The girl glances toward house. “The Larsons hired a private investigator? That’s new.” She returns her focus to Connor. “She any good?”

“My mom’s the best. I’m Connor, by the way. And this is Vee,” he adds, jerking a thumb my way. “Don’t mind her, she’s not as prickly as she looks. Or sounds. Or acts.”

I glare at him and mumble “jerk” under my breath, but that just makes him smile wider.

“My name’s Mandy,” the girl tells us.

Connor must recognize the name, ’cause he says, “You were with Juliette the day she disappeared.”

Her eyes narrow slightly. “How did you know?”

He shrugs. “I read up on the case during the drive down here.”

I keep myself from rolling my eyes. Of course he did. Such a goodie two shoes through and through.

“Yeah, well…” She crosses her arms and shivers slightly. “It’s not a day I like to think too much about.”

“Yeah, I can understand.” It’s clear to me Connor doesn’t plan on prying, but I’m way too nosey to keep quiet.

I lean around where Connor’s half blocking my view of Mandy and ask, “So what did happen that day?”

Connor rounds on me. “She just said she doesn’t want to talk about it,” he hisses under his breath.

That’s never stopped me before. “So?”

“You don’t have to answer her,” Connor tells the girl.

I pinch the back of his arm hard enough I know it hurts. “You’re the one who said you wanted to play detective. So start detecting.”

His cheeks flush a little. “I didn’t say that,” he says to Mandy.

She lifts a shoulder. “It’s okay, I get it. I’m used to being the girl whose friend disappeared. It’s always the first thing people ask about when they find out.”

Beside me, Connor stiffens. It’s a feeling he knows all too well. He’s always been the serial killer’s kid, and I know he’s tired of it. And since this whole trip is supposed to be a break from the crap going on back home, I make a proposal: “Then let’s not,” I say. “Let’s make a pact here and now that we won’t talk about the shitty stuff that’s happened in our lives.”

Mandy laughs. “So what should we talk about instead?”

“How about what there is to do for fun around here? This town looks boring as hell so far.”

Mandy’s eyes trace over me in a way that makes me want to sit up straighter and run a hand through my hair. I slouch instead, fixing her with a glower.

That only makes her smile. “Y’all gonna be here for a while?”

“Here as in sittin in front of this house? Doubt it. Here as in this shithole of a town? Who knows.” I don’t tell her that how long we stay has less to do with solving the case of Juliette’s disappearance and more with letting the heat die down about the school shooting.

Mandy grins. “Well, maybe I’ll see you around then.” With that she turns and strolls up the front walk to the Larsons’ house. I notice a swing to her hips and I wonder if that’s just her normal walk or if she’s putting on a show. If she is, which one of us is it for?

There’s still a hint of fruitiness in the air that I think is from Mandy’s shampoo. I kinda like it. I also liked the way her nose crinkled when she grinned. “You think Mandy’s pretty?” I ask Connor.

He opens his mouth and then closes it, caught off guard by the change of topic. He shrugs. “Sure.” But his cheeks flush a little, and that’s a clearer answer to my question. “Don’t you?”

She’s pretty in that way of untouchable things. Like when my mamma would take me to the nice shops in the city and threaten to tan my hide if I didn’t keep my hands in my pockets at all times. More than Mandy’s looks, though, I’m curious about the mismatched parts of her. The perfectly polished nails and sleek shiny hair paired with beat up old sandals and a dingy grey shirt.

They don’t fit together, and I want to know why.