“Jazzy,” Connor says, slinging his hands in his pockets. “Here’s a fun fact: We’re not detectives. We wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“We don’t have to be detectives. We just need to find out where the bodies are,” she insists. Her gaze snaps toward me. “You’re in, right, Ryan?”
“Um. No.”
“Whynot?” She grits her teeth, and I’m surprised she doesn’t stomp her foot in a tantrum.
“Because she only got here a few days ago,” Connor answers on my behalf, “and she’s not gonna spend her free time digging for bodies. Like, literally digging.”
“They might not be underground,” Jasmine counters. “Come on, you guys. We could totally solve this.”
I force a laugh, though it feels jagged and wrong in my throat. “You’re nuts,” I manage to say, rolling my eyes at her. “We’re not going to solve a murder.”
“The murders were already solved,” she replies in a haughty voice. “We’re looking for bones.”
“You should leave it to the cops,” I advise.
Connor nods. “Agreed.”
She huffs. “You guys are both such cowards. Fine, whatever.Don’t help me. But don’t come begging for a handout when I’ve got a million bucks in my bank account.”
Her cavalier tone grates on me. I glance toward the town square where the crowd still lingers. People hoping for answers, for peace. And here she is, talking about finding bodies like it’s some kind of treasure hunt.
Guilt twists in my gut. I hate this. I hatehimfor what he did. For making me carry this secret.
“You are not snooping around on your own,” Connor warns his twin.
“Why not? It’s not like Uncle Psycho is going to murder me for asking questions. He’s already in jail. You really don’t want in on this, Ryan?”
I don’t respond. I can’t. My throat feels tight, my mind spinning. Benjamin’s words echo in my head:They deserve to be found.
“This isn’t some sort of game,” I say, frowning at Jasmine. “Those people back there lost their loved ones.”
“Those people back there,” she mimics, “are the ones offering money for answers. And as far as I’m concerned, we deserve that money.”
Connor snickers. “Uh-huh. All right, I’ll bite. Why do wedeserveit?”
“Really?” she says, glaring at him. “You’ve forgotten about the years of rumors? The bullying? The nasty fucking comments westillget when we walk down the hall?”
“Oh, lay off it, Jazzy. You’re in cheer. I play football. We’re not some hopeless losers being bullied at school. So what if we got picked on when we were younger or if a dickhead or twomake a rude comment about our uncle a couple times a month. We’re doing fine.”
I hide a smile. I’m starting to like Connor a lot.
But Jasmine is too stubborn to concede his point. “The Shipleys sufferedjustas much as those other families.”
Her brother snorts. “Your main character syndrome is out of control.”
“Whatever. C’mon. Let’s go to Starbucks.”
For a moment, I think Jasmine is going to let this go, but my relief is short-lived when she makes it clear she’s already hatching plans.
“We could at least start asking around, you know? See if anyone knows anything. There’s gotta be rumors about where the bodies are.”
“Jaz,” Connor sighs.
“You heard what Ben White said—they want closure. Well, I’m in the closure market now.” She smiles smugly. “For a million dollars, I’ll give ’em all the closure they want.”
We meet Maggie outside her real estate office on Main Street and catch a ride home with her. At the house, Jasmine wastes no time opening her laptop to conduct “research,” so I sit in the dining room with Connor and we finish our homework out there. Like me, he has no interest in joining Jasmine’s body hunt, although I’m sure our reasons are very different.
