Chapter 28

After doubling back because I had another light bulb moment and needed to run a couple of errands near home, I pull up at the hospital and make my way to George’s room.

So much is making sense now, those puzzle pieces beginning to make a picture.

He’s lying in bed when I walk in. His eyes, now open and alert, flick to me.

“Hi, George.”

He winces, trying to sit up. “Marley, what’re you doing here?”

“Came to see how you are,” I reply, stepping closer. I perch on the edge of his bed. “You doing okay?”

He shrugs. “My throat is killing me, and I don’t think I’ll ever get the smell of smoke out of my hair, but I’m alive.”

“What do you know about the fire…and everything?”

Surely, he’s been told about his grandad. He would ask if he’s been found, right?

“I don’t remember the fire. The cops have been in, but it’s all a blur. I think I remember waking up and realizing there was smoke, but nothing after that. Cops aren’t certain it was arson, because my grandad had cans of gas all over the yard, but they’re thinking it might be.”

“George, what have you been told about your grandad?”

He turns his head, flinching. “I know he’s gone.”

“I’m so sorry,” I say, trying to figure out if he’s acting right now. Why wouldn’t Arthur be the first thing he mentioned when I asked how he was?

“Thanks,” he mutters. “I don’t really want to talk about it, if that’s cool.”

“Actually, no, it’s not cool. Because I know that the strong pain meds you’ve been popping for your shoulder were found in Arthur during the postmortem.”

His whole body tenses, but he doesn’t look back over.

I’m right.

“Don’t panic, no one else knows, and I have the evidence. Saw you out near my house, thought you might be coming to see me, but you were buying from Malcolm, weren’t you?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I do. How many times did you drug him and encourage him to go for a walk?”

Very slowly, he tilts his head and faces me again. “Enough to have seen some things.”

So he does know. My heart races. It was definitely Ruthie behind the messages, I have her phone on me, but George saw too.

“Do you know Ruthie well?”

He scoffs. “I ran into her that night. She tried to contact me a few times after. I had a feeling she saw too, but I couldn’t be sure. Anyway, I didn’t want any part of it. The less involved I got, the better. Where do we go from here?”

“I’m going to keep these pills and your secret so you can inherit Arthur’s estate. In return, you’re going to help me.”

“How?”

I sit on the bed, smile, and then tell someone my full plan.

George’s brows rise as I finish.

“I can see you’ve thought this through.”

“It’s all I’ve thought about.”

“No one can ever know about the pills, Marley.”

“They won’t. Did you have blood work?”

“Yeah, but they only tested for oxygen and carbon monoxide levels. I’ve read my chart. Or what I could make sense of. No mention of anything else.”

“Good. Then you’re in the clear. Any other questions?”

He laughs, then coughs, holding his chest. “No, I think I’m good.”

“Okay. Here’s my old phone, but wait for me to contact you first.”

“All right,” he says, taking the phone and slipping it under his stack of pillows.

He knows I need to keep his secret and he needs to keep mine. If not, we’re both in jail.

I leave the hospital, putting some space between me and George, which is necessary because I don’t feel as bad as I thought I would…. I feel like an absolute boss.

No need to dwell on that right now.

It’s hot as hell out, muggy in a way that only a cool shower will fix. I’ll feel gross until then. Jogging to my car, I check my phone and see a new pic on Insta from Atlas. It’s him, Luce, and Jesse on the field.

They’re wearing the clothes they had on today, so he’s obviously not struggling with what they’re doing or breaking up with me.

I grit my teeth and call Rhett.

“How did it go with George?” he asks, picking up nearly immediately.

“All good. Just needed to show my face.”

“You on your way to Jesse’s?” he asks.

“Yeah, look, I need you to go back to school instead. Get Atlas’s tennis shoes from his locker. I don’t think he’s emptied it out yet.”

“What for?”

“Meet me after where we park to hike to our spot. I’ll explain everything then.”

“All right. Be careful.”

“You too.”

I get in the car and crank the air up, enjoying the icy blast against my clammy skin. Now I need to go plant some things in Jesse’s truck. He’s making it kind of freaking obvious by getting Luce to bring him to school most of the time.

Still, his idiocy works for me; it’s easier to plant things in his truck when he’s not around. I glance at the backpack on my passenger seat, slowly filling with everything I need to prove my friends’ guilt and my innocence.

I pull up on Jesse’s road, far enough back that I can’t be seen by his immediate neighbors. Then I dart between the bushes his dad is letting grow wildly out of control. Jesse’s truck is nicely hidden in his carport.

It’s close enough to his house, to his bedroom window, that I think this will work. The backpack weighs on my shoulders, digging into my skin. I slide it to the ground and open the zipper.

Malcolm lent me this, and it better work.

I pull the little device out and press the button. At first nothing, but a second later I hear the pop of Jesse’s truck unlocking. Malcolm’s definitely behind a spate of car break-ins, then.

Pushing my sleeve down, I cover my hand and open the door of Jesse’s closed truck bed. I put the device away and take out a little bag and open it. Inside are hairs from Jesse, Atlas, and Luce. Hers is long and wound around in a coil.

Without touching them, I gently shake the bag, dropping the first hair at the very back of the bed, the second one up on the side, and Luce’s closest to the door. It’ll look like the boys climbed inside to get Arthur in. Or that’s what I’m hoping anyway.

I put the bag away and cover my hand again to close the bed.

This wouldn’t be the first time Jesse has left his truck unlocked, so hopefully he’ll just think he was careless again.

Slinging my bag over my back, I walk back toward the bush. That’s when I hear footsteps crunching on the ground.

I think my heart skips, like, ten beats. I stumble sideways, shoving myself into the overgrowth just in time.

Atlas and Jesse walk toward his front door.

They laugh, jostle each other, and Atlas says, “We should ditch the rest of the week. It’s boring as hell.”

“We need to keep things normal, man. You’ve already messed with that by breaking up with Marley early.”

Early.When was he planning on doing it? What a coward.

They’re almost at his front door now. I want them to slow down so I can hear more.

“Couldn’t wait. Things were getting weird.”

“She was getting weird.”

Jesse fiddles with the key in the door.

Atlas shoots him a look, and I think he’s about to defend me. “I get why she’s finding it hard, but she’s a massive risk.”

Not so much.

Jesse snorts. “Won’t be a problem—”

The door slams shut, and I’m cut off from what they were going to say. I probably don’t want to hear it anyway.

Jesse is so wrong, though. I will be a problem.