And then, almost simultaneously, two things happened that changed everything.

Just one week after Violet found the body in the lake, another dead girl was discovered.

It was exactly one week to the day.

Then, on the following day, and two cities away, on a Sunday afternoon, the girl from the lake-Carys Kneer-was buried by her family…laid to rest in proper fashion.

Once and for all.

And despite the fact that another body had just been found, Violet was suddenly at peace with the world again. She seemed to abruptly wake from the haze that had claimed her.

And she stayed that way…

Until the next girl vanished.

CHAPTER 7

BY MONDAY, EVERYONE AT SCHOOL HAD HEARD about the discovery of a second body. The news was bigger this time, not just because another girl was dead, or because she’d been found so close to home. It was bigger news because of who the girl was.

Brooke Johnson might not have attended White River High School, but she had been a student in the next closest town. And as happens with kids in small towns, their social circles had overlapped: they attended the same parties, dated the same boys, and hung out in the same places. Brooke had been popular, which didn’t necessarily translate into being well liked, but which definitely made her more important on the gossip ladder. Violet hadn’t known Brooke personally, but she knew who Brooke was, in the same way that kids from Brooke’s school would know who Lissie Adams was.

The other thing that made Brooke’s death more newsworthy was that it established a pattern…at least in the eyes of the community at large.

They knew now what Violet had known all along: that the girl in the lake had been murdered before being dumped in the water. And despite the fact that the authorities could neither confirm nor deny a connection between the two bodies, locally, no one really doubted it. Two girls abducted, and then subsequently murdered and discarded so close to each other, in such a short period of time, hardly seemed like a coincidence.

If it walks like a duck, seemed to be the sentiment regarding the assumed correlation, and people were reacting accordingly.

Grief counselors had been made available at several area schools, including White River in Buckley. There were assemblies and after-school classes scheduled about personal safety, stranger danger, and self-defense. Suddenly every girl in school was preoccupied with concerns over her own well-being. And despite the fact that they were not actually permitted under the school’s “no-tolerance” environment, tiny cans of pepper spray became something of a staple-like lip gloss and tampons-in nearly every purse in school.

But by the middle of the week, conversations began to feel more normal again, and while safety was still a real issue, even Brooke Johnson’s death was eventually eclipsed by the trivial quest for lighthearted rumors to cut through the gloom.

Jay, on the other hand, was neither eclipsed nor forgotten. And as the last days of summer drifted toward fall, the number of lovesick girls trailing behind him on any given day seemed to multiply.

While she’d been locked in the grip of her own troubles, Violet had temporarily forgotten to be jealous of those other girls and had finally remembered how to just be Jay’s friend again. During those days before the girl from the lake was finally buried in her hometown, Jay had been the one who kept Violet sane. He slipped candy bars into her backpack for her to find and left little notes in her locker just to let her know he was thinking about her. She leaned on him every step of the way, and he never once complained. And afterward, when she felt back to her old self again, at least mostly anyway, he was still there.

She wondered what she’d done to deserve a friend like him, someone who never wavered and never questioned. Someone who was always there… being supportive, and funny, and thoughtful.

Violet stood in the hallway and watched him. He was digging through his locker looking for his math book, and even though she knew it wasn’t there, Violet just let him search, smiling to herself. Crumpled wads of paper fell out onto the floor at his feet.

He seemed to sense that she was staring and he looked back at her. “What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she responded, the smile finding her lips.

He narrowed his eyes, realizing that he was the butt of some private joke. “What?”

She sighed and kicked a toe at his backpack, which was lying crookedly against the wall of lockers. “Your book’s in your bag, dumbass,” she announced as she turned away and started walking toward class.

She heard him groan, followed by the sound of his locker slamming, before he finally caught up with her.

“Why didn’t you say anything? Sometimes you really piss me off.”

It was easy to ignore the harsh words when his tone was anything but scolding.

She shrugged. “It’s fun to watch you scramble.”

“Yeah, fun. That’s what I was thinking.”

Grady Spencer fell into step beside Jay.

Grady had started out as one of Jay’s friends but had quickly become Violet’s too. When they were younger, in fourth grade, she’d had a crush on Grady, passing him notes in school that asked him whether he “liked” her too. One even had boxes to check “yes” or “no.” He’d picked yes, and they were officially boyfriend and girlfriend for the rest of the year, which only meant that she chased him at recess, and he pretended he didn’t want her to.

Later, after the first day of fifth grade, she’d cried when she’d realized that they wouldn’t be in the same classroom that year. And that had pretty much been the end of that particular childhood crush. He had moved on to Miranda Grant, a new girl in his class, and Violet fell in love with her fifth-grade teacher, Mr. Strozyk.

“What’s up?” Jay asked Grady.

It was funny to see Grady now, because, like Jay, he’d grown nearly six inches since the last school year, and now he towered over her. Half of the boys in her class had suddenly sprouted and developed into men; the other half were still lingering in boyhood. The girls had been waiting for the boys to catch up for a couple of years, and those who had were considered fair game. It was like open season at White River High School.

“Not much, man,” Grady answered in a deeper voice than she remembered. “You guys going to the game on Friday?”

“’Course. Right, Vi?” Jay said, pretty much answering for her.

“Sure.” She shrugged.

She didn’t mind; she knew they were going. It was autumn, which meant football season. And home games were practically a religion in her town.

They got to the classroom she and Jay shared this period, but it wasn’t Grady’s class. Instead of walking on, Grady paused.

“Violet, can I talk to you for a minute?” His deep voice surprised her again.

“Yeah, okay,” Violet agreed, curious about what he might have to say to her.

Jay stopped and waited too, but when Grady didn’t say anything, it became clear that he’d meant he wanted to talk to her…alone.

Jay suddenly seemed uncomfortable and tried to excuse himself as casually as he could. “I’ll see you inside,” he finally said to Violet.

She nodded to him as he left.

Violet was a little worried that the bell was going to ring and she’d be tardy again, but her curiosity had kicked up a notch when she realized that Grady didn’t want Jay to hear what he had to say, and that far outweighed her concern for late slips.

When they were alone, and Grady didn’t start talking right away, Violet prompted him. “What’s going on?”

She watched him swallow, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down along the length of his throat. It was strange to see her old guy friends in this new light. He’d always been a good-looking kid, but now he looked like a man…even though he still acted like a boy. He shifted back and forth, and if she had taken the time to think about it, she would have realized that he was nervous.