Dig Two Graves, page 15
Deirdre didn’t put down the game controller. “Isn’t that why she has her own room?”
“Deirdre . . .”
“But I’m about to break into the bunker,” she whined. “Do you know how hard this is?”
“Now.” Her dad pushed a button on the remote, turning the flat screen black. “Come help me make dinner.”
Deirdre groaned in disappointment. “Fine. But I’m playing again after. Don’t care what Mom says.”
“Nice seeing you again, Mr. Lanier!” Diane called after him. “I liked that nifty hat you were wearing last time I saw you.”
Bitch.
Neve’s dad rubbed his head absently, his wispy hair sticking up on end. “Yeah, um, thanks.” Then he spoke under his breath as he passed into the kitchen. “No idea where that thing is. . . .”
Neve watched her dad go, still rubbing his head as if doing so might jog his memory, and her resolve strengthened. She had to protect her family from this psychopath at all costs.
The instant Neve’s dad disappeared into the kitchen, Diane exhaled violently, as if she’d been holding her breath throughout the entire exchange, allowing her head to flop forward, a balloon figure deflating. When she started breathing again, the happy-friend routine was gone, and cool, calculating Diane Russell had returned.
She smiled as she meandered around the living room, examining the various family photos that adorned the walls and tabletops. Her body snaked as she walked, a sinuous undulation of hips and torso that a week ago would have left Neve panting with desire but was now only nauseating.
“Nice family,” Diane said at last, shattering the silence with a threat that set Neve’s teeth on edge.
“Stay away from them.”
“As long as you cooperate, I’ll have no reason to pay you a visit at home ever again.”
Cooperate, my ass. Neve moved her hand toward her skirt pocket, where she’d shoved her phone as she climbed out of the car. If she could just get the video camera recording, maybe she’d catch audio of Diane incriminating herself. “Cooperate?” she asked innocently, hoping to prolong the conversation while she grappled with her phone.
“You know what I mean.”
Neve dipped her hands into the pocket, hoping the move looked casual, unpremeditated, innocent. “I am cooperating.” Her fingers fumbled blindly with the phone until they located the side button that opened her camera app, which was all well and good, but how the hell was she going to get video feed recording without being able to see anything?
“Hands where I can see them,” Diane barked, eyes narrowed. “Now.”
All Neve could do was randomly tap the screen of her phone before she pulled her hand free.
“I saw you today,” Neve began, hoping her phone was actually recording. “Driving the car that almost mowed Javier down.”
“You probably saw someone who looked like me,” Diane said, cagey as always. “And what’s this about Javier?”
Neve stuck to her guns. “You could have killed him.”
“What?” Diane sucked in an audible breath. “Someone tried to kill Javier? Is he okay?” Her voice was sickly sweet, but she rolled her eyes as the words came out of her mouth.
Does she think she’s being recorded?
“Don’t worry,” Neve said, her voice as deadpan as her face. “I was able to warn him.”
“Oh.” Her blue eyes bored holes into Neve’s skull. “That’s wonderful.”
“Yeah, it is.” Ugh, now what?
“Did you talk to him?”
Neve paused, then nodded, wondering why Diane wanted to know. “We’re having lunch tomorrow.”
The smile vanished. “Lunch?” Diane sounded shocked, alert, maybe even a little jealous. Definitely off-balance. Neve being seen in public with Javier was definitely throwing off her murder plan.
“He wanted to thank me for saving his life.”
“You can’t have lunch with Javier,” Diane said, back to her old smiling self. “Didn’t you listen to anything I told you about him? Javier is a predator. I’m worried about your safety, Neve.”
Neve snorted. As if. She needed to get back on the topic of Yasmin’s death just in case she was actually recording this conversation. Diane might slip and say something incriminating.
“You want to give me some tips on having lunch with someone you want to murder?” Neve asked. “Since you’ve obviously done this before.”
A half smile crinkled the corner of Diane’s mouth. “Unless you think going to lunch with me is murder, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Fuck.
Diane stepped toward the door, glancing back over her shoulder as she reached the entryway. “You can tell me all about your experience with Javier next time I come over.”
Next time. The thought of finding Diane in her house again made her skin crawl.
“See you then!” Diane gave a sickeningly girlish wave before she slipped out the door, leaving Neve in the family room, palms sweaty, heart racing. She waited a full minute before she slowly walked to the front door and bolted it, to make sure Diane wasn’t going to barge back inside. Confident she was safe from her psycho ex-friend, she gently pulled the phone from her pocket with trembling hands.
It had been a long shot that she’d actually be able to start the video recorder, and as she swiped the screen to life, she felt her stomach drop.
The camera was on, but all she’d managed to catch was a dark, blank photo of the inside of her pocket.
TWENTY-THREE
NEVE SAT IN HER CAR, PARKED ON THE STREET AROUND THE corner from the beachy, surf-themed diner, and stared at the clock on the dashboard. She was supposed to meet Javier five minutes ago, but despite arriving early, Neve hadn’t been able to get out of the car.
She was rattled. Finding Diane in her house yesterday had reminded her of the stakes for her family, the threat that Diane posed to their safety. Neve had been too spooked to call Officer Hernández, and she’d even briefly revisited the idea of doing what Diane wanted in order to protect her family.
But as Neve drove to the diner, a new idea had popped into her head.
What if Javier could help?
The idea seemed repugnant at first. This guy was a sexual predator—did Neve even want his help? But having octopus hands was a lot less horrible than being a murderer, and if she had to metaphorically get in bed with one to stop the other, so be it.
Once she got past her initial distaste, Neve’s idea posed a second problem. Her murder-swapping tale was outlandish at best, and she doubted whether Javier would believe the word of a stranger over that of his alluringly hot stepsister. Diane had charmed her way through GLAM camp and even into Neve’s own home, shooting the shit in the living room with her dad like they were old friends. Sociopath or not, Diane was charismatic. Why would anyone believe surly, friendless Neve over her?
Because he knows her.
Javier lived with Diane every day, and there was no way she’d be able to keep up her perky sunshine routine twenty-four/seven. Maybe Javier had seen Diane’s darker side? Maybe even been the target of it? Hell, maybe Diane’s stories of sexual harassment and stalking had been as truthful as her sunny GLAM disposition? She’d lied about everything else, why not lie about Javier?
If so, if Javier wasn’t a douchebag, if he was just one of Diane’s victims like so many others, he might believe every word of the story Neve was about to drop on him.
Or he’d think she was a nut-job conspiracy theorist, tell his friends and family about the lunatic he met for lunch, and then if anything did happen to him, Neve would be the prime suspect. Again.
With a sigh that encompassed her entire soul, Neve got out of the car. None of these options were good ones, but at the moment, Javier represented her only hope.
“Hey!” Javier’s face lit up as Neve approached his table. He’d nabbed a spot out front, in the shade, she noted with approval. Her pale skin hated the Southern California sun.
“Hey, yourself,” she said, forcing a smile and hoping she didn’t look as miserable as she felt.
Javier tilted his head to the side. “Are you okay?” Once again, Neve’s lack of a poker face had failed her.
“Sorry, my brain was elsewhere.”
He slowly regained his smile. “I know that feeling. It almost got me killed, remember?”
“Heh.”
“I mean, not that I’m planning to kill you or anything. That’s totally not what I meant.”
Oh, the irony. “That’s good to know.”
She sat with her hands folded in her lap, eyes resting anywhere but on Javier’s face. The full awkwardness of the situation weighed her down, and she wondered if the other diner patrons were looking at this hot, affable guy and trying to figure out why the hell he’d be having lunch with the weirdo chick with the pin-curled hair and black pinafore dress.
“Are you at La Jolla High?” Javier asked, breaking the silence. It was a casual question, but for some reason, it made Neve jump in her chair.
“No,” she said, trying to regain her composure. “La Costa Canyon.”
His brows shot up. “Oh yeah? Maybe that’s why I thought you looked familiar. My best friend’s girl goes there.”
Shit. How could she have been so stupid to think he wouldn’t remember her?
“So you like baseball?” she blurted out, changing the subject. Nuance was not her forte.
Javier laughed. “You could say that. Do you play any sports?”
Now it was Neve’s turn to laugh. The idea that her extremely uncoordinated self was good at anything even remotely athletic was hilarious.
“Music?” he pressed. “Band. Maybe theater? You look like a theater type.”
Neve tilted her head. He appeared keenly interested in her extracurriculars. “What does that mean?”
“Oh, you know. Black dress. Stylized hair. Very dramatic.” He was smiling. Teasing her. “You look like the kind of girl who goes to theater camp over the summer.”
Again, the words were so casual and yet bringing up summer camp put Neve on edge. “I’ve done a little acting,” she said carefully.
“Ah,” he said, turning back to the menu. “So has my stepsister.”
Neve stiffened at the mention of Diane. Even though she wanted Diane to come up in conversation so she could try and figure out if Javier had any clue about his stepsister’s plot, she wasn’t ready for the emotional body blow that a reference to her would bring.
“Stepsister?” she stumbled, grasping at conversational straws. Shit, she sounded like an idiot. “D-do you have other siblings?” You’re horrible at this.
He blinked, but looked otherwise unfazed by her awkward question. “No. Parents divorced when I was in middle school. Mom’s back east with her new girlfriend. Near Boston. And my dad and stepmom don’t have kids together.”
“Ah.” Diane had been telling the truth about moving from Boston, at least.
“You grew up in San Diego?”
“No, thank God,” Neve said without thinking. She hadn’t been prepared for the conversation to turn back to her.
Javier snorted. “What do you have against San Diego? It’s beautiful here.”
This isn’t about me. “Boston’s not?”
He shrugged. “Freezing in the winter. Humid as fuck in the summer. Allergies all spring. But, you know, the leaves.”
“I’ve heard that leaves change color and fall off of trees,” Neve said with a wry half smile, “but I always assumed that was a fairy tale.”
“We New Englanders make that shit up to lure unsuspecting Californians into spending their vacation dollars in our states.”
“You bastards.”
Neve tried to ignore the weird fluttering feeling in her stomach, the same sensation she used to get while hanging out with Diane. What was wrong with her? This wasn’t a date. They weren’t best friends. She wasn’t there to learn about his family life, only to figure out if she could trust him enough to help her. But maybe if she steered the conversation back toward his family, she could bring up Diane again and gauge his reaction?
“So, um, how did you end up out here?”
“The usual,” he said with a sigh. “My dad got a job offer he couldn’t refuse. He does pharmaceutical research on gastrointestinal viruses, which is about as sexy as it sounds. But there are very few places doing that kind of research. So here we are.”
“Oh.”
Neve was trying to find a way to bring up Diane again, but Javier had other plans. “I know I said it before, but I want to thank you for saving my life yesterday.”
“Oh, I didn’t really do anything.” Taking credit for saving his life when she’d been plotting to kill him, even theoretically, felt super ick.
“Of course you did! That car wasn’t going to stop.”
I know.
“And the driver must have seen me.”
She did.
“You didn’t happen to get a good look at her, did you?” he asked. “The car passed right by you.”
Neve was struck by the juxtaposition of Javier’s tone of voice and the look on his face. The tone was casual, easygoing, like he was just asking a perfectly normal question. But his eyes were sharp like a predator stalking its prey. It was a look she’d seen recently. From Diane.
Saving her from the necessity of replying was the waitress who appeared at their table. She looked harried, more so than the half-full restaurant should have warranted. Her movements were quick and flippant, like someone unable to hide their irritation with the world, and though her eyes were fixed on the order pad she whipped out of her apron, they looked ready to roll at a moment’s annoyance. “And what can I get for you kids . . . ?”
The last word died on her tongue as she looked up at Javier for the first time.
Neve watched in amazement as the most shocking transformation overcame her: chin and nose instantly relaxed as her lips, lined with lipstick that had long since been chewed away from the center, curved into a smile. She quickly tucked her pen behind her ear and used her free hand to smooth back the flyaway hair from her sagging ponytail, and seemingly without knowing it, she straightened up and pinned her shoulders back, thrusting her small chest forward. It was like watching a peacock prepare for a mating ritual.
“What can I get for you, honey?” she said to Javier, dripping with sweetness. The word kids was utterly forgotten.
Javier was flustered. “Oh, um, I didn’t really have a chance to—”
She leaned in. “Would you like me to recommend something?” The innuendo was not subtle.
“I’m not sure that’s what he had in mind,” Neve grumbled under her breath.
“Hm?” The waitress’s eyes never left Javier’s face.
Sure, they weren’t on a real date, but the waitress didn’t know that. “I’ll have the tuna melt on sourdough,” Neve said, her voice sharp. “Cheddar cheese. With fries.”
“Same,” Javier said quickly, pushing his menu toward the waitress with a weak smile. “And a Diet Coke.”
“Anything to drink for you?” the waitress asked Neve without looking at her.
“Iced mocha,” she said.
“Okay.” The waitress smiled at Javier. “I’ll be back with your order as soon as I can.”
I bet you will.
“Iced mocha?” Javier said, tilting his head to the side. “How can you handle all the sugar?”
Neve tilted her head to match. “It’s the only sweet part about me.” The waitress had lit Neve’s snark spark, and now it was in full effect.
“Simmer down.” The words were casual, but Javier looked sheepish as he spoke. “I was just teasing.”
The waitress flew by their table, delivering food to another customer, and winked at Javier. Neve scowled. “Does that happen a lot?”
“What?”
“Chicks throwing themselves at you.”
He shrugged again, his go-to move when he was uncomfortable. “I’m an asshole if I say yes.”
“So that’s a yes.”
“I have a bad track record with girls.”
Perfect. She wanted to bring this conversation back around to Diane. “Yeah?”
“Recently this girl was throwing herself at me. Like all over me every time I saw her. I wasn’t interested and tried to be polite, but she only got more and more aggressive.”
This sounded exactly the way Diane described her situation with Javier. Neve had taken it for granted as truth a few weeks ago, but now, knowing Diane the way she did, it actually made sense that she had pursued him, and her plot to get rid of Javier was less an act of self-preservation and more one of vengeance.
“Couldn’t you walk away?” Neve prodded, knowing this answer already.
Expectedly, Javier shook his head. “I wish. I had to see her almost every day.”
Yep, Diane. “I’m sorry.”
“Maybe you knew her from school?” he said.
Neve blinked. “From LCC?”
“Yeah, she went to school there.”
“Went?” His use of the past tense was almost as disturbing as the realization that he wasn’t talking about Diane.
Javier nodded, his knowing hazel eyes locked on to hers. “She died four days ago.”
TWENTY-FOUR
THE WAITRESS ARRIVED WITH TWO PLATES OF TUNA MELTS and fries while Neve was still grappling with a response to Javier’s question. “Here you go, honey. Is there anything else I can do for you? Anything at all?” Neve was actually thankful for the waitress’s infatuation with Javier, as it distracted from her own confusion.
Javier was talking about Yasmin.
Of course Yasmin hadn’t wasted any time in making her play for Javier. Ingratiating herself with Marisol and Luna, being accepted into their circle. Neve was still so freaking bitter that she was actually pleased that Javier had repeatedly rejected Yasmin.
God, you’re an asshole.
The girl was dead. Neve had to let it go.
Fingers on the back of her hand yanked her into the present. Javier had reached across the table and nudged her gently.
“What?” she said, instantly on guard, though from what she wasn’t sure. There had been something off about this entire lunch. She’d shown up hoping to interrogate Javier about Diane, to see if maybe he’d be able to help Neve out of this predicament, but the entire time she’d felt as if Javier was controlling the conversation and where it went, and she had no idea why.
