CHAPTER 67
631 Words
"Coop?"
Her voice surprised him. He jumped and twisted around to see
Calla staring at him, her eyes speculative and cold. Cautious.
Vincent had repositioned himself so that he was now lying along
the bench, his head in her lap. On her other side, Stephanie had
propped her head on Calla's shoulder, her eyes closed and mouth
slightly agape, the stress and tears having finally driven her into an
exhausted sleep.
Cooper didn't answer her. He just waited for the inevitable
question.
"What did you find out? Earlier today?"
He glanced over at Stephanie, who didn't shift even an inch.
Vincent turned his head to look at Cooper, his tired eyes curious
once more.
He sighed. Acutely aware of Stephanie's presence—sleeping or not
—he proceeded with caution, breaking down his earlier encounter
as vaguely as possible. He hadn't wanted to tell them, not here,
not while they were still in school. But he had no choice. Not with
Jessica's death weighing so heavily in the air...with his own soon
to follow.
"I got a chance to talk to, uh, him ," he started slowly, flashing back
to the awkward encounter with Ryan in the lunchroom. Had that
really been today? It felt like a hundred lifetimes ago. "We were in
line to grab lunch. I just...point-blank confronted him about it."
Cooper could still feel the flush in his cheeks from the exchange.
Standing there in line for tacos, his hands shoved in his pockets,
Cooper had gone through everything he knew about Ryan in his
head. He wanted to like the guy. He really did. But the thought that
Ryan might be using him as a toy in some sick, twisted game had
been the straw that broke the camel's back. Riding on a burst of
angry courage, Cooper had been bold enough to tap on Ryan's
shoulder, look him in the eye, and ask, "So. You're a coke dealer,
huh?"
The look on Ryan's face hadn't been pleasant. Shock. Fear. And a
hell of a lot of anger. Cooper probably should have ended up on
the floor with a bloody nose. How he'd escaped that fate, he had
no idea.
"Jesus." Vincent frowned. "I saw you guys talking, but Astrid kept
trying to get my attention..."
"What did he say?" Calla pushed, keeping her voice as level as
possible to avoid waking Stephanie.
Cooper grimaced.
"Are you insane? What are you even talking about?" Ryan had
snapped, brushing him off as one might a particularly annoying
gnat.
"I know you sold to Gareth," Cooper had pushed, muttering under
his breath—just loud enough for Ryan to hear every word over the
din of the cafeteria. "And I know Detective Michaels is watching your
house. I'm guessing it's because you're involved in the drug ring
running around town. Jacob joined in over the summer. Did you
recruit him? What went wrong? How was Rachel involved?"
He'd been bluffing there at the end, trying to connect a set of dots
even he couldn't fully see. He could only assume that Jacob's
death had something to do with a deal gone terribly wrong. And he
felt confident enough to try and shake the truth from Ryan.
He'd failed.
"He ignored me. And then he denied it," Cooper mumbled, casting
his eyes down to examine Calla's boots. They were filthy, too. "So I
pushed it. I mentioned the detective. And then Jacob and Rachel,
to see if I could rattle him."
Calla tilted her head to the side, eyes hooded. "And?"
"He bolted." Cooper hesitated. "So I followed him."
"Jesus, Coop," Vincent repeated, shifting into a sitting position.
"What were you thinking?"
"I was thinking we need answers," he hissed. "Which is obviously
the case, since someone else is dead."
- Writer
