Vance gets off to a shaky start, only hitting eight out of twelve targets. It kills my competitive spirit to miss five when it’s my turn, but all this will be pointless if he stalks off in a huff again when we’re done.
“You lost your touch.” Vance smirks when I lower my gun. Ezra, who’s watching us with his hands on his hips, looks like he’s physically biting his tongue.
“I was just warming up,” I lie.
I keep it close in the next couple of rounds, losing by one each time. Vance is pumped up by the end, preening and chuckling, going so far as to slap me on the back when I miss my final shot. “Nice try, kid. You almost pulled one out.”
“I guess I did get lucky last time,” I say with a theatrical sigh. I don’t have Sadie’s talent, which is obvious from Ezra’s grimace as we move to one side so the people waiting behind us can play. But I’m hoping it’s good enough for a drunk guy. “My mother told me it probably wouldn’t happen again.”
Vance adjusts his cap over oily hair. “Your mother?”
“Sadie Corcoran,” I say. “You’re Vance, right? She said you guys went to homecoming together and that I should introduce myself. I’m Ellery.”
It’s weird holding out my hand after what Sadie just told me. But he takes it, looking genuinely flummoxed.
“She said that? Wouldn’t have thought she even remembers me.”
She talks about you all the time, I almost say, but decide to keep things believable. “She does. It’s not easy for her to talk about Echo Ridge after what happened to her sister, but— She’s always spoken well of you.”
It’s close enough to true, I guess. And I’m feeling pretty charitable toward him myself, since he’s the only person in Echo Ridge who has an alibi for both Sarah’s and Brooke’s disappearances. Suddenly, Vance Puckett is the most trustworthy man in town.
He spits on the ground, close to my sneakers. Somehow, I manage not to flinch. “Damn shame what happened.”
“I know. She’s never gotten over it. And now my friend is missing. …” I turn toward the new woman behind the counter. “I guess you knew Brooke, huh? Since you play here all the time.”
“Nice kid,” he says gruffly. He shuffles his feet, looking antsy and ready to move on. Ezra taps his watch and raises his brows at me. Get to the point.
“The worst thing is, I know something was bothering her before she disappeared. We were supposed to get together on Sunday so she could tell me what was going on, but we never got the chance. And it’s killing me.” Tears spring into my eyes, still close to the surface from my conversation with Sadie, and spill down my cheeks. I’m playing a part, but Sadie always said the best acting happens when you’re emotionally connected to the scene. I’m torn up enough about what happened to Brooke to pull it off. “I just— I wish I knew what she needed.”
Vance rubs his jaw. Rocks back on his heels, twists to look at the crowd over his shoulder. “I don’t like getting involved,” he mumbles. “Not with people in this town, and especially not with the police.”
“Me either,” I say quickly. “We’re total outsiders here. Brooke was—is—one of my only friends.” I fish around in my bag for a Kleenex and blow my nose.
“She asked me a strange question last week.” Vance speaks quietly, in a rush, and my heart leaps into my throat. “Wanted to know how to pick a lock.” A shifty expression crosses his face. “Not sure why she’d think I’d know. I told her to Google it, or watch a YouTube video or something. Or just use a couple of paper clips.”
“Paper clips?” I ask.
Vance swats at a hovering bug. “Those work sometimes. So I’m told. Anyway …” He meets my gaze, and I see a glimmer of something like kindness in his bloodshot eyes. “That’s a thing that was on her mind. So now you know.”
“Thanks,” I say, feeling a pinprick of shame for manipulating him. “You have no idea how much that helps.”
“Well. You tell your mother I said hello.” He tips his baseball cap and shuffles past Ezra, who brings his hands together in a slow clap once Vance is out of hearing range.
“Well played, El. Although that guy’s never gonna let you live down the loss.”
“I know,” I sigh, digging for another Kleenex to dry my still-damp cheeks. As I watch Vance melt into the crowd, a prickle of excitement works its way up my spine. “Did you hear what he said, though? He told Brooke to pick a lock with paper clips.”
“Yeah. So?”
“So that’s what she was holding in the House of Horrors office, remember? A straightened paper clip. I took it from her. She said something like, This is harder than he said it would be.” My voice climbs with anticipation, and I force it back down. “She was trying to pick a lock right then and there. And we interrupted her.”
“The desk, maybe?” Ezra wonders.
I shake my head. “I get stuff out of that desk all the time. It isn’t locked. But—” Heat floods my face as I remember where Brooke was sitting. “But I think I know what is.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Malcolm
Thursday, October 3
By Thursday, search parties for Brooke aren’t limited to school hours anymore. There’s one this afternoon, covering the woods behind the Nilssons’ house. Peter’s a volunteer captain, and when I get home from band practice he’s loading a cardboard box filled with flyers, bottled water, and flashlights into the back of his Range Rover.
“Hello, Malcolm.” He doesn’t look at me as I get out of Mom’s Volvo. Just brushes his palms together as though they’re dusty. I’m sure they aren’t. Peter’s car is as pristine as everything else the Nilssons own. “How was school?”
“Same.” In other words: not good. “When are we leaving?”
Peter crosses his arms, displaying razor-sharp creases in the sleeves of his shirt. “We are leaving in ten minutes,” he says. The emphasis is clear, but when I don’t respond he adds, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come, Malcolm.”
My heart sinks. “Why?” It’s a pointless question. I know why. Officer McNulty has been back twice already to ask me follow-up questions.
Peter’s nostrils flare. “Emotions are running high right now. You’d be a distraction. I’m sorry. I know that’s hard to hear, but it’s the truth, and our first priority is finding Brooke.”
My temper spikes. “I know. I want to help.”