Secrets in a Still Life, Kari Ganske [best fiction books to read .TXT] 📗

wasn't time. Tensions and emotions ran high tonight with the memorial. Mike, if he were anything like me, would be wound tight after putting on a false face all through the memorial. I couldn't risk the time it would take to have someone drive here to pick me up.

I grabbed the stupid bike and pedaled faster and harder than my poor body was used to. My legs were a gelatinous mess by the time I got to the Vandenburgs' house. Why couldn't they have lived somewhere called the Plateau instead of the Hill? Luckily, the house was still ablaze, and cars still lined the street. Free booze meant a long party whatever the occasion.

I leaned my bike against a tree across the street and made my way up the driveway to the back of the house. The eat-in kitchen had sliding glass doors that took up almost one whole wall. If I could catch Jodie in there alone, I could possibly motion for her to come outside. Not the best plan, but the only one I had at the moment.

Plan B would be to reenter the house, on the guise that I left something there, and try to pull Jodie aside. But I didn't want to draw attention to myself.

I hid behind some of the landscaping with an eye on the windows, poised to jump out and signal to Jodie should the chance arise. I'd been crouched there long enough for one foot to get those prickly, almost asleep tingles when my cell phone's shrill tone echoed in the silent dark, surprising me enough to make me fall backward into the mulch. I fumbled it out of my pocket all the while shushing it, as if that would help. I managed to silence it as I saw Jodie enter the kitchen—alone.

Quickly, I shoved the phone into my back pocket and lunged out of the bushes toward the house. I waved my arms like a crazy person, but with the light on inside and the pitch black outside, Jodie couldn't see me.

I took a deep breath, ventured onto the porch, and knocked on the window. Jodie jumped about a mile, her pale face getting even more translucent. I guess I wasn't the only anxious one.

I tried the sliding door. It was unlocked.

"Jodie," I whispered. "It's me, Alex Lightwood. I have to speak with you in private. It's urgent."

Jodie, of course, looked wary. "Aren't you the one accused of murdering Missy?"

I stood up to my full height, which wasn't much and was the point. I gestured to myself. "Do I look like I can murder anyone? It wasn't me. But I think I know who did it. Please, meet me outside so I can talk to you. Just for a moment."

Jodie looked behind her toward the great room. Then she looked back at me and nodded her head slightly. I let out a breath. I left the door open but moved back into the shadows away from the house to wait for her.

Jodie emerged from the house a moment later. When she got close to me, she said, "Follow me. It's more private by the pool house."

I followed her. She was right; no light from the house reached this part of the yard. The only light came from the moon that hung heavy in the night sky. We were completely secluded from the windows of the house. A tall fence surrounding the pool area cut us off from any prying neighbors too.

"What do you want, Alex? It's been an emotional day already." Jodie stood between me and the house with hands on hips.

There was no good way to say what I knew, so I just blurted it out. "I know about the DNA test results. That you are related to both Missy and Mike."

I saw surprise flash across Jodie's face followed closely by anger. Then it settled into the unemotional visage of a bored twentysomething again. She shrugged a shoulder.

"I think those results were what got Missy killed," I explained. "I'm worried that you might be next. If someone is trying to keep those results quiet, you are another person that knows about them."

"Thanks for your concern," Jodie said. "But it really isn't any of your business."

I felt my hackles go up. Here I was trying to help this girl, and I was getting the brush-off. "It kind of is my business since I'm accused of the murder. If you suspect Mike too, then you should say something. Not just for me, but for your own safety."

Jodie almost laughed. "You think Mike killed Missy?"

"Well, yes. It's the logical answer, right? He doesn't want any affair between his family and your mother to come out."

"My mother," Jodie scoffed. "My mother."

Her voice was full of so much sharp derision, it could have cut my hair as easily as the scissors used to kill Missy. Instinctively, I took a step back, although I couldn't really explain why.

"You want to talk about my mother," Jodie said, practically spitting the words.

I remained quiet. This conversation had derailed from what I expected. The tone was all wrong, and that feeling like I was missing something came back tenfold.

Jodie continued, "My mother is a lying, selfish piss goblin. She lied to me my entire life. She got what she deserved."

"Wait. What happened to your mother?" I asked.

"You didn't figure it out from the DNA results you somehow pilfered from us? Mike didn't have an affair with Laura. Neither did his decrepit old man. No, besides his indiscretions of late, he has always been under my mother's thumb," Jodie said.

Like the last piece of a puzzle, it all clicked into place. Missy wasn't studying abroad or at fat camp during sophomore year; the Poledarks sent her away to have a baby. Her loveless marriage, full of secrets and cheating, was no