Torched Page 25

  No, suddenly I was sure they didn’t matter.

  “I don’t know,” I said, and left the table. Behind me, I could hear the murmurs start up again. I went upstairs and opened Juliette’s door without knocking. She glanced up from her computer. Her face was pale but calm.

  “You,” I said.

  Chapter 24

  “That’s a letter.” Juliette nodded with mock agreement. “When preceded by F, it spells ‘F.U.’”

  I ignored that. “You set the fire.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking--”

  “Don’t even try,” I interrupted. I came fully into the room and shut the door behind me. “You framed me. You took those pictures, put them on the boat and set it on fire.”

  Juliette crossed her arms. “Prove it,” she said.

  Holy flying crap. My suspicion had billowed into a full-fledged hunch at the table, but I hadn’t been positive until now. I was stunned. Juliette, all along? She just sat there smirking, and my shock turned to anger. She was so not getting away with this. I darted over to her bookcase, where a couple shelves held a random assortment of gadgets and knickknacks.

  “Where’s your camera?” It might have a backup of the pictures she took. I expected Juliette to jump up and stop me, but she didn’t.

  “I used an instant digital,” she said. “A Polaroid PoGo. It prints right from the camera.” She looked smug. “I paid for it in cash, and after I was done I destroyed it. So have fun trying to prove anything.”

  I couldn’t believe she was so calm. “Your brother is in jail, Juliette. You’re going to let him take the fall for this?”

  “He’ll be fine. My dad knows really awesome lawyers. They were going to have them defend you, if it went to court.”

  I stared at her. “Why, Juliette? Why did you want me sent to jail?”

  “Please. I knew you wouldn’t go to jail. Georgette bitched all the time about how Ryan was wrapped around your finger, so I knew he’d make his dad go easy on you. I just wanted to make your life miserable.”

  “But ... why?”

  “Because.” Resentment cracked Juliette’s calm. “You get everything. It’s always all about Rose. You and Paxton are too busy with your stupid pranks to care that I have blue hair, or get drenched with water when I’m wearing a white shirt. To this day, people make fun of me for that. When spring break comes around, the guys all ask to see my tits.”

  “Juliette, I--”

  “The final straw was over the summer: I found out my parents were going to give me the blue car. I heard them talking. It was going to be my birthday present. But then--can you guess what happened?”

  “They sold it to my dad.” I sounded dazed. I felt dazed. This was about her parents selling Cloudmonster to my dad last summer? I’d thought that despite the occasional prank mishap, Juliette liked me, looked up to me. But she’d been carrying a slew of grudges for years. How could I not have noticed?

  “For you.” Juliette’s eyes were slits. “Because you’re a senior, and you liked the blue. So who cares about Juliette, right? That’s when I started planning. It wasn’t going to be arson, you know, but then you made me late to school and there was that nice container of gas sitting in your house ... it was too good to pass up.” She smirked. “You think you’re so smart, with all your pranks and everyone fawning over you. But I’m smarter. And I proved it.”

  She ... she was confessing. I needed a recording device. But my phone was in my car. I shook my head. Juliette might hate me--I was still reeling over that--but she didn’t hate her brother.

  “You can’t let Paxton go to jail,” I said. “They want to charge him as an adult. That will stay on his record, even if he manages to win in court.” Was that true? I wasn’t positive, but it seemed likely.

  Uncertainty cracked Juliette’s expression, then disappeared.

  “Paxton will be fine.”

  “He won’t be fine!”

  Juliette sneered at me. “What, are you two in love now?” She was joking, but then she noticed my expression. “Give me a break. Is that why he’s doing this?”

  “He found out yesterday, didn’t he?” I put the pieces together. “That’s why you two never came back downstairs.” Juliette shrugged. “You have to tell someone. You have to tell the police.”

  “Hell, no. And if you try, I’ll deny it.” Juliette held my gaze. “You have zero proof, Rose. Everything was perfect until Paxton decided to ruin it. I’m not screwing myself over just because you and Paxton started hooking up.”

  “You can’t let him go to jail for what you did.”

  She shook her head. “Paxton didn’t have to do this. If he wants to get himself charged with arson to impress you, that’s his deal. I got caught in the cross-fire for years while you guys tried to destroy each other. Well, the battle’s over: neither of you wins. We win.”

  Juliette stood up and shoved past me, leaving me alone in her room. Frantically, I searched for anything that might prove Juliette’s guilt, but there was nothing. Nothing. Her computer was locked, but I doubted it had anything incriminating on it anyway. She’d planned this too well. Damn it, there’s got to be something. But there wasn’t.

  Then my brain caught up with Juliette’s last words.

  She’d said we win.

  I hadn’t imagined that. We.

  Adrenaline shot through me, and new hope. Juliette had an accomplice. But who?

  I searched Juliette’s room again, and found her yearbook from last year. Pulling it from the bookshelf, I flipped to the back, where signatures covered the last few pages. A quick scan yielded nothing as massively helpful as “Your partner in crime, xoxo,” so I tucked the yearbook under my arm.

  Heading out to the hall, I paused on the stairs. Voices from the Callaways’ kitchen indicated that Juliette had rejoined our parents. I slipped quietly out the door and across the lawn. When I reached my car, I tossed the yearbook in Cloudmonster’s backseat and got in.

  New determination filled me. Before, I’d been grasping at nothing in my search for the truth, but now I had a thread to pull. I’d find Juliette’s accomplice, and I’d prove they were guilty. It might take a while, but if there was one thing I didn’t lack, it was the stubborn gene.

  In the meantime, I had a fake jailbird to spring.

  ~ ~ ~

  At the police station, I eventually found myself across the same table from the same steel-haired, sharp-eyed Detective Kendricks who’d questioned me all those weeks ago.

  “I remember you,” she told me. “You swore you were framed, then signed papers to the contrary.”

  Her obvious cynicism made me flush. I’d done just what she said. Why did I think anyone was going to believe me now?

  But I had to try. “You want the truth?”

  “Happens to be my job,” Kendricks said dryly.

  I bit my lip. The truth. I raised it like the shield I hoped it was.

  “If I didn’t sign the deal, my dad was going to be fired.” Without elaboration, I told her about Mr. Appleton’s unofficial threat. Detective Kendricks’ eyebrows climbed.

  “That’s not exactly legal.”

  “Doesn’t mean it wouldn’t happen.”

  Detective Kendricks studied me like I was a beetle, but didn’t argue the point. “Well, congratulations, we’re re-opening the case. Seems you might not be a drama-queen liar after all.”

  Before I’d been too intimidated by what Kendricks thought of me to speak up, but now I met her gaze steadily.

  “Paxton didn’t set the fire.”

  “He claims he did, and that he framed you for it.”

  “He’s lying. He wants to clear my name for me, to ... as a grand gesture.”

  Kendricks’ eyes narrowed. “A grand gesture?”

  “
He’s trying to impress me,” I said. “We kind of started dating.” Had we? Not officially, maybe not at all, but I didn’t think Detective Kendricks cared about the details. “He didn’t think Ryan’s dad would have him arrested.”

  “Is that so?” Kendricks scrutinized me even more closely, but I didn’t waver.

  “Yes.”

  Detective Kendricks seemed about to cave, but then she shook her head.

  “If he says he did it, we have to investigate.”

  “It’s a waste of your time.” Now I was starting to sweat--what if, like before, I couldn’t get anyone to believe me, and Paxton wound up in jail for his sister’s crime?--but then I remembered what Juliette told me. “Look, ask him what kind of camera was used to take the pictures. I guarantee you he doesn’t know.”

  The first spark of wary belief entered the detective’s gaze. “And you do?”

  “A Polaroid PoGo. It prints the pictures right from the camera.” The information wouldn’t prove it was Juliette, but it could at least get Paxton off the hook.

  “I thought you said you didn’t do it.”

  “I didn’t. But I know who did, and it wasn’t Paxton.”

  “So who framed you?”

  Silence filled the room like smoke. “I don’t have proof,” I finally said, looking Kendricks in the eye. “And I know better than to think you’ll believe me without it.” We engaged in a stare-off until I crossed my arms. “Are you going to check this out or not?”

  Detective Kendricks raised a brow, then stood up. “Alright. I’ll go ask.” She left, returning within ten minutes. “You were right. He didn’t know.”

  “So you’re releasing him?”

  “I should charge him for wasting my time, but yes, we’re releasing him.” Kendricks looked annoyed. “Tell him next time he makes a gesture to just get you flowers, okay?”

  “Will do.” Relief buoying me, I headed for the door.

  “Miss Whitfield,” Kendricks said, and I paused. The detective’s steely gaze was meditative. “If you find that proof, come back and talk to me.”

  Whoa. Had I gotten through to her? Maybe this shield of truth stuff worked after all. “Will do,” I said again, and left.

  I caught up with Paxton as he was crutching his way out of the main doors. He looked confused, and then surprised when he swung around at my hand on his shoulder. I didn’t know whether to hug him or smack him. Juliette refused to confess, so Paxton had thought to clear my name for me. It had totally backfired, but as a gesture ... it was kind of grand after all.

  I kissed him. Before Paxton could respond, though, I pulled back.

  “That was stupid,” I said. “What the hell were you thinking?” Now Paxton looked bewildered. I realized he didn’t know I’d figured out the truth. “Come on, let’s go outside.”

  Once in my car, I took Paxton’s hand.

  “I know it was Juliette,” I said.

  “She confessed?”

  “Only to me. She says I can’t prove anything. But I think she had an accomplice, and I swear on the gods of cheerleading and SAT’s that I will prove--”

  “Rose.” Paxton pulled his hand from mine. “If this is how Ryan’s dad reacted to me confessing, can you imagine what he’d do to Juliette? No way.”

  “She was ready to let you go to jail, Paxton.”

  Paxton winced, but then was quiet. Just as I was about to repeat myself in case he’d missed the fact that his sister was completely psycho, Paxton met my gaze.

  “We created her, Rose,” he said. “You and me.”

  I stared at him. “You think it’s our fault she turned into a vindictive lunatic?”

  “Look at her example.” Paxton thrust a hand through his hair. “She’s my little sister. She looked up to me. And what did I do? I showed Juliette it was okay to attack someone you’re mad at. That’s why I tried to tell the police I did it--because it’s sort of my fault.”

  Was he serious? I shook my head.

  “There’s a difference between an egg in a gym bag and setting a boat on fire.”

  “She took it too far, yeah. Because she didn’t know the rules. She was playing our game, but she didn’t know the rules.”

  I didn’t know what to say. The sun baked the inside of Cloudmonster into a stuffy, airless cell. I turned my car on, rolled the windows down, and drove us home. We didn’t speak. When I turned onto our street, I pulled over. Paxton had better not mean what I thought he meant.

  “So ... what? Spell this out for me, Paxton. You want me to just let her get away with it?”

  “I want you to give her a chance to come clean on her own.”

  He was crazy. Absolutely, horrifyingly crazy. “Let me get this straight: you want me to let my reputation stay dead, let colleges think I’m the dangerous kind of nuts, and let everyone whisper behind my back that there goes the girl who flipped so far out when her boyfriend cheated that she set a boat on fire, just on the off chance that Juliette will feel guilty and confess? Trust me, she won’t.”

  Paxton put his hand on my arm. I realized I was shaking.

  “That’s why I told them I did it,” he said. “I know how important clearing your name is to you. Let me go back to the police station and--”

  “No.” I shook his hand off. “Just--no. First of all, they won’t believe you. And second of all, Ryan’s dad wants you in jail.”

  Paxton shuddered. “I thought Ryan would say something ...”

  “Alina told Ryan that we kissed,” I told him. “Ryan wants your head on a lunch tray.” Paxton paled. “Whereas I got away with a slap on the wrist. So if anyone’s fake-confessing, we’ll leave mine standing.”

  Paxton glanced over. “You’d do that?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t believe you want me to let Juliette win.” Earlier I’d been ready to at least consider forgiving Paxton, but Juliette and her mysterious accomplice? My head felt two seconds away from exploding.

  “It’s not about winning. She’ll never get better if she doesn’t confess on her own.”

  “Get better? I want her to get what’s coming to her.” I jerked Cloudmonster back into gear and drove us to Paxton’s driveway. I left Cloudmonster running while I grabbed Paxton’s crutches. I shoved them at him, then returned to the driver’s side.

  “Rose.” Paxton looked upset. “We made her that way. You and me.”

  “Go to hell, Paxton,” I said, and left.

  ~ ~ ~

  Alina showed up the next morning, knocking at my bedroom door.

  “Go away,” I said, and tried to shut her out, but Alina stuck her foot between the door and the jamb.

  “I know you have no reason to believe me,” she said, “but I didn’t tell Ryan.” She winced, and I stopped trying to smash her foot.

  “You’re right,” I said. “I don’t have any reason to believe you.”

  “You’re still mad, I get it. But I’m not trying to move in on Ryan, I swear.”

  “You like him, though.”

  Alina bit her lip. “I did for a while,” she admitted. “But it was just a crush, and I got over it when I realized he wanted to get back together with you.” Her eyes pleaded with me. “And I swear I didn’t tell him about you and Paxton.”

  She looked sincere. “One way to be sure,” I said, then grabbed my phone and pressed the speed-dial number for Ryan’s cell.

  “Hey, Rose,” he answered in a rush. “Did you freaking hear? Paxton was released! They dropped the charges, they say he didn’t do it. But I swear, I’ll make him--”

  “He didn’t do it,” I said dully. I couldn’t even be happy about that. On the bright side, Paxton hadn’t been laughing at me behind my back the whole time I was falling for him. But on the decidedly dim side, he wanted me to let his sister off the ho
ok. It made me furious. Paxton felt responsible for his sister, I got that. But after weeks of desperately wanting my name cleared, to just stop now ...

  “Wait. If Paxton didn’t do it, who did?” Ryan asked.

  My throat hurt with the effort of keeping the truth in, so I changed the subject to the reason I called. “Ryan, who told you about me kissing Paxton?”

  A pause. “Why?”

  “Who told you?”

  “Hayley. I ran into her last Sunday.” Another pause. Was he wondering if I was putting the time-line together in my head? Ryan hears about the kiss, then sprints over to tell me he believes me. “Why, did ... did Hayley do it?” Ryan sounded bewildered now.

  “No.”

  “Then who?”

  “Ryan, leave it alone, okay?” He started to protest, and I cut him off. “If you want us to work, you have to leave this alone.” The second the words were out of my mouth, I realized what they implied. Did I want us to work? Ryan, at least, would never ask me to let Juliette get away with framing me. Then again, he’d abandoned me when he thought I was guilty. My head hurt. My heart hurt. “I’ll see you Monday,” I said, and hung up.

  Alina was giving me an I told you so look.

  “So you didn’t tell him. Sorry.” I didn’t sound sorry. I felt like our friendship had broken all over again. Maybe we hadn’t been taped together very well in the first place.

  Alina smiled wryly. “I guess now I know how it feels, right?”

  “How it feels?”

  “To be wrongfully accused.”

  I stared at her. “Did you get hauled off to jail? Did everyone in your life dump you?” Alina winced. “Then no, you don’t know how it feels.”

  “Sorry. I guess not.” Alina hesitated, then sat on my bed. “So did Paxton do it?”

  “No.”

  A long pause. “Are you going to tell me who did?”

  “No.”

  “Fine.” Alina crossed her arms, looking hurt, but didn’t leave. I let the silence freeze around us. I was just so furious, at her and Paxton and Ryan and Juliette and myself, but after a minute passed and Alina was still sitting on my bed, I sighed. Alina hadn’t told Ryan about the kiss, after all. And she was here, trying to be there for me now.