Chapter 50

Chapter Fifty

BEFORE

TOM

At some point, my mother's footsteps ascend the stairs, and then the door to her bedroom slams shut.

I can't imagine what she must be thinking about me right now. She knew that spot on the sofa was blood. She hasn't asked me again to explain where her rug went. And she recognizes at this point that my father is not coming home for the night.

Plus, I can't stop thinking about the way she looked at me before I went upstairs.

She must strongly suspect I did something to my father. Does she think I'm responsible for what happened to Alison too? To Brandi?

If she thinks that, I don't know why she's cleaning up the blood I left behind. She should be driving me to the police station herself.

At about ten o'clock, I sneak down to the living room, which is dark. I flick on one of the lights, then walk around the sofa to see what that spot looks like where my mother was scrubbing. The blood stain is a lot lighter than it was earlier, but it's definitely still there. She wasn't able to get it out, apparently. I'm sure there's enough there to analyze the fibers and figure out it's not paint. I'm sure they can figure out it's blood.

But at least it's not Alison's blood.

My stomach growls loudly. I only ate about half my dinner, but even though my body seems to want food, I don't feel like eating. It's like I've permanently lost my appetite.

All I can think about is Daisy.

She told me on the phone that she's not allowed to talk to me anymore, and I'm betting her father is monitoring her phone. It's clear what the police chief thinks of me. Yet I'm not quite ready to let her go. I've spent my whole life in love with Daisy Driscoll, and now, just when I managed to win her over, she's being taken from me. It doesn't seem fair.

I need to see her. Even without her father's blessing.

I cast a glance in the direction of my mother's bedroom upstairs. I'm sure she's in bed for the night. If I slip out, she'll never know.

Before I can overthink it, I grab a hoodie from the closet and throw it on. I shove my keys and my phone into my pocket, and I slip out the back door, leaving it unlocked.

Daisy's house is only a few blocks away from mine. I jog over there, the hood of my sweatshirt covering my hair. It's not much of a disguise, but it's better than nothing. If I'm lucky, her father will be out in the field or at the station.

Daisy's bedroom is all the way in the back of her house. They don't have any cameras or security, because this isn't the sort of neighborhood where you need something like that, and it's not like anyone would break into a police officer's house. In any case, I'm able to go around the back without any trouble. I crane my neck to look up at the second-floor windows, and I locate the familiar one with plastic bubble letters spelling out DAISY in different colors. The light is still on.

Now I've got to get her attention.

I pick up a couple of pebbles from the ground. I've got to be careful, because I don't want to break her window, but I need to throw them hard enough to get her attention. I count to three, then I toss one of the smaller pebbles at the window. Bull's-eye.

I wait for a moment, but I don't see any movement from the window.

I pick out a second pebble and throw that one. Again, I hit my target. Finally, the shadows shift behind the glass. My breath catches when Daisy's pale face appears at the window.

"Daisy!" I stage whisper. "I need to talk to you!"

She shakes her head no.

I lace my hands together, pleading with her. Come on, Daisy. Please.

Finally, her shoulders sag. She points to the back door, where she can slip out easily without anyone seeing her. I briefly entertain the thought that she might tell her parents I'm waiting for her so they can throw me out, but then, a minute later, the back door cracks open and there she is, alone, her blond hair gleaming in the moonlight, a sweater wrapped around her slim body.

"Daisy," I breathe.

I can't help myself—I dash over to her and wrap my arms around her. But it quickly becomes obvious she doesn't want to be hugged. Her whole body has gone rigid. I pull away, frowning.

"Daisy…" I say.

When she looks up at me, there are tears glistening in her eyes. "I told you I'm not allowed to talk to you anymore, Tom."

"I know, but—"

"My father thinks you killed Alison." She blinks up at me, and a single tear falls from her right eye. "He thinks you killed Brandi too. You and Slug together."

I swallow hard. I knew the chief strongly suspected I was Brandi's secret boyfriend, and I guessed that I had become a chief suspect. But it's a blow to hear he shared those suspicions with Daisy.

"Slug was peeping at Brandi through her window," she adds. "She caught him doing it. Did you know that?"

"No…"

"And she's not the first girl he's peeped at. A few others came forward too."

I didn't know any of that, although it explains why the chief was questioning Slug a second time. Christ, I can't believe Slug would do that. If I had known, I wouldn't have called him the other night when I was in trouble.

I really opened a can of worms. I knew Slug was weird, but I had no idea what he was really like. I had no idea he could be dangerous.

"Daisy," I whisper, "you can't possibly think that I would…"

"I don't know what to think!" She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. I get a rush of sadness that I might never get to hold her hand again. "And that's not all…"

It's not? What else could there be? How could it be any worse than her father, the chief of police, thinking that I'm a murderer? "What is it? Tell me."

She drops her voice an octave. "The night Alison disappeared? She called me."

Oh no.

"She told me she saw you and Slug together," she goes on. "She said you two were stuffing something into your trunk, and it was really suspicious. She was freaking out, telling me I had to break up with you."

Oh no .

"Look," I say, "Slug was at my house, and he was just borrowing some sports equipment and putting it in his trunk. It wasn't a big deal."

"She said there was blood on your hands."

Suddenly, I am very glad Alison is gone. Slug was right—she was a problem.

"Daisy"—I take a deep breath—"we've known each other forever, and I would never lie to you. I love you. I would never hurt Alison. I swear on my life."

I study her face, watching to see if she buys it. She wants to believe it. She wants to believe me so badly.

"Daisy?" I say.

She blinks away another tear. "It doesn't matter if I believe it or not. My father still thinks you did it. Do you know how much trouble you're in?"

"Daisy—"

A light goes on upstairs in her house, and Daisy's body goes rigid. "I've got to get back upstairs. My parents will kill me if they see me with you."

No. This can't be the last time I see Daisy. It can't . I'll lose my freaking mind. "Will you meet me later tonight?" I ask desperately. She starts to shake her head and I add, "Please, Daisy?"

She hesitates. "Okay. I can sneak out when my mom goes to bed. Meet me at one in the morning behind the Dairy Queen off Maple Street. It's always deserted over there."

She's willing to meet me. That means she doesn't think I'm a killer.

Impulsively, I reach out and grab her. I press my lips against hers, and for a moment she resists, but then she melts into me like she always does. There is nothing better than kissing Daisy Driscoll.

And then I feel the beating of her carotid artery under her jaw. I slide my finger against it, fascinated by the pulsations. I remember the way my father's blood spilled out from the gaping hole in his neck.

I wonder what Daisy's blood would look like spilling out of her throat.

As our lips separate, a voice in the back of my head tells me that maybe it isn't such a great idea to meet up alone with Daisy in a deserted parking lot. That maybe I can't trust myself with her. That maybe Alison was right about me, and that if I really do care about her I should let her go.

But it's too late to back out now.

Daisy hurries back into the house, and I watch the door swing shut, even though I need to get out of here while I still can. But kissing Daisy always makes my knees weak. I need a minute.

Finally, I scuttle out of the backyard, moving quickly and quietly. I had been so intent on watching Daisy, I didn't know that somebody was watching me.

Not until I come face to face with Slug.