Bellamy Rising Page 4

  I wriggled in my seat and glanced around to see if anyone had heard my mom. I didn’t need people to think I had a “history” of mental illness. I just have a few issues, maybe.

  “Mrs. Foster.” Lewis tried again. “We are not questioning Bellamy or trying to upset your daughter, but as it turns out, she was the last person to see a student at this school and is subsequently part of a missing person’s investigation. We are going to ask her a few more questions down at the station, take her statement, and then it will be over.”

  “A missing person?” Mom said. “Tell me what’s going on first.”

  “Well, ma’am,” Officer Lewis began. Mom visibly bristled when he called her ma’am. “This is an ongoing investigation, but the basics are this: we have a missing person and possible a kidnapping situation involving a seventeen-year-old girl and the last person to have seen that girl was Bellamy. We have some leads, but we really can’t say more. I think we can all agree that it’s important that we talk to Bellamy and make sure we get every detail.”

  Mom crossed her arms and glared. “Fine, but I’m driving her there.” Only my mom would boss the cops around.

  They looked at each other and made a silent agreement.

  “Okay, Mrs. Foster. We will meet you at the station.”

  Mom wagged her finger at Mr. J. “Next time you people need to question one of my kids, maybe give me a heads-up beforehand.”

  Mr. J observed my tiny mother with wide eyes. He was a little pale. “I s-sincerely hope this never happens again,” he said to my mother with a wobbly lip. To me, he said, “Bellamy, we’ve informed the student body and there will be a press conference this afternoon.”

  I nodded, unable to speak.

  “We’re going,” Mom said and ushered me out. I was still holding my paper bag as she marched me out of Mr. J’s office.

  Shocked students lined the hushed hall. They stood in packs, stunned and silent. The senior cheerleaders, situated across the hall from the office, stared at me. Every single one of them had red eyes and runny mascara. Wow, news travels fast.

  ~ ~ ~

  Brown file folders sat in piles on Officer Jackson’s desk. I slouched in a chair next to my mom as we waited for Lewis to bring us coffee, as if that was going to help anything. Jackson sat across from me with her hands folded on her desk, calm and professional. The rest of the police station vibrated with activity. Phones rang constantly, and the middle-aged police officers, all white men except for Officer Jackson, the only woman of color, rushed around with furrowed brows and dark circles under their eyes.

  Lewis bobbed into view, weaving his way through the commotion while holding two wimpy little Styrofoam cups with steam rising out of them. As soon as the coffee was in front of me, Jackson started firing her questions at me.

  “You’re in eleventh grade, right?”

  I nodded, and Jackson typed something into her computer.

  “Let’s start from the beginning,” Lewis said. “Tell me about Friday night.”

  I glanced at my mom and she nodded in encouragement. The left side of her blond, streaked bob was tucked behind one ear and her giant gold hoop earrings swung every time she moved her head.

  I told him all the same things I’d already told them in Mr. J’s office before getting into specifics. “I was at work at The Beans, which was dead. Just before closing at seven p.m., Jenna came in and ordered a gingerbread latte. I made it, she paid, and left. I went to the door to flip the sign and saw her get into a black car. I didn’t see anything else. Then the car drove away.”

  “Did she seem nervous or anxious?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess I thought she seemed . . . a little agitated.”

  “What kind of car? Did you get a good look?”

  “Not really. Jenna was standing on the sidewalk, messing with her phone. Then a black car pulled up. She got in and left.”

  Jackson didn’t speak for a moment. She leaned forward in her chair and rested her elbows on the desk. “Bellamy, I feel like we know each other pretty well. It hasn’t always been under the best of circumstances. I don’t think you are lying to me, but I want to reiterate how important it is that you tell us the absolute truth.”

  Anger rushed through me and my face went hot. I opened my mouth to say something snarky, but stopped myself. Instead, I nodded. “I am.”

  I could practically hear what they were thinking, Oh great, this lying vandal and shoplifter is our only lead. Fantastic!

  “Were you able to identify the make or model of the car?” Lewis asked, getting the interview back on track.

  “No. It was black. I didn’t get the license either. I didn’t know I would need it. And I was kind of far away.”

  “Sure. Was it a sedan, SUV?”

  “Sedan. Four doors. Completely nondescript. I’m sorry, I’m not really a car person.”

  “And did she pay with cash or a credit card?”

  “Cash.”

  “What did she have with her?”

  I thought for a moment. “Just a small bag. It wasn’t big enough to hold much.”

  “Did she have her cell phone?”

  “Yes. She was texting someone.”

  “Can you tell us what she was wearing?”

  “She had on a navy-blue coat, like a pea coat. Her legs were bare and she had on heels, black, I think.”

  “Okay. Just a few more questions,” Officer Lewis said. “What happened after Jenna left and got in the car?”

  “After it drove away? Well, I locked the door, washed a few dishes, unplugged the espresso machine, told my boss goodbye, and left.”

  “Where did you go after that?” Officer Lewis asked, trying to sound casual.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Mom said in a low, serious voice.

  “Routine question, Ms. Foster,” Lewis drawled.

  Mom made a huffing sound, but sat back in her chair and crossed her arms and legs.

  “I went home and then I went to a party. I was with people all night, first my sister and then about a hundred of my closest friends.”

  Jackson didn’t speak for a moment. Then she asked me, “Were you friends with Jenna?”

  “No. I wasn’t,” I said. “I’m not sure we’d ever really spoken before that night. She’s a cheerleader. I’m not exactly the cheerleading type.” In case they couldn’t tell by my ripped-up, black skinny jeans, black hoodie, bright orange hair, and history of getting in trouble.

  “What can you tell us about her? Anything that might be helpful?” Jackson asked, looking me in the eye.

  I stared at my Styrofoam cup and tried to think of anything that might be helpful. “Uh. She’s dating a football player. Ethan Finch, I think.” I barely knew Jenna. I knew her name and that she dated a football player. To me she was a great big cliché.

  “Yes, we know,” Officer Jackson said. “Is there anything else you can think of that we might need to know?”

  “No.”

  “Did she mention a fight with anyone?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Great, thank you,” Lewis said.

  Jackson reached into her pocket and handed me a card. “I know that this must be traumatic for you. I’m sorry you are involved at all. Please, if you think of anything else, please call me. And stay out of trouble.”

  I suppressed an eye roll. They both shook my hand and I followed Mom out the door. More than one officer watched her as she swept by. She was so different from the Mom I remember before Dad died. I guess we had all changed since it happened three years ago. Mom is tougher now. In fact, she’s a badass.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Mom swept my bangs out of my eyes and held her hand on my face for a few seconds. “I’m making tea if you wa
nt some.”

  “I’m okay. I think I’m gonna lie down.” I wanted to say that I was really freakin’ freaked out, and that I had a sick feeling every time I thought of the vision and the dirt road, but I was afraid of what it meant and anyway, she knew nothing about all of that and it was better that way. Instead, I started up the stairs.

  “Okay, I’ll check on you in a little while. I have to call in and see if someone will cover me.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said over my shoulder.

  “No, it’s fine. Go to bed.”

  Once I got to the second floor, I opened the door to the attic and climbed up the second flight of stairs. I collapsed onto my unmade bed, buried my face in my pillow, and sobbed, not something I did often.

  Chapter 6

  Footsteps on the attic stairs startled me awake. I sat straight up, panting,

  Iris appeared at the top of the stairs, eyebrows knit in concern. “Hey,” she said. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” I rubbed my temples to ease some pressure on my aching head. “How did you get here?”

  “My friend Sara brought me,” she said. “I can’t stay long, she’s outside waiting.”

  “The Sara? The one from your French club that you like like?” I raised my eyebrows. “Well?”

  “Yes. Oh please, there is nothing to tell.” Iris sat down on the bed next to me and tried to hide a small smile.

  “I’ve gotta go to work!” Mom yelled up the attic stairs.

  “Okay,” I called down.

  “I’m not closing, but no one could cover the evening. Meredith will be here and I should be home around nine or ten.”

  “Okay, Mom.”

  “Bye.”

  “Spill it,” Iris said, as soon as soon as she was gone.

  “Well, tell me the school rumors first,” I said.

  “Oh, just that you were involved in a plot to kidnap Jenna. It was a really weird day. People sobbed and hugged. No one knows how to act. That sort of thing. There is a vigil tonight, but no one seems to know if it should be in memory of her or as a gesture of hope that she’ll be found.”

  “Ugh. I’m glad I wasn’t there. It would seem that I’m a key witness for now, since I was the last person to see her . . .” I let that sink in.

  “What?” Iris shrieked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t know it was important until this morning. I didn’t know she was missing until sometime around homeroom today.”

  “Tell me everything.”

  I filled Iris in on my trips to both the principal’s office and the police station. When I finished, we were both quiet for a moment. “I feel like my vision at the party . . . maybe had something do with Jenna somehow. Is that crazy?”

  She shrugged, “I don’t know.” She stared at her feet. “Good God.”

  “I know.” I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them.

  Iris’s phone rang and she frantically dug through her backpack until she found it. “Hi, Mom,” she said. “I’m fine. Just over at Bellamy’s . . . Yes, her mom is here . . . I’ll be home for dinner, I promise . . . Yes, I know.”

  Iris ended her call and rolled her eyes at her mom’s super-overprotective ways. I figured she would never be allowed to go anywhere again after a kidnapping in our very own Louisa.

  “Mom said it was all over the news.”

  I adjusted the bunny ears on my small TV until I could kind of pick up one of the three local channels. It was true. Regular afternoon programming, i.e., Family Feud, wasn’t even on.

  The reporter stood in front of the school. Students milled around behind her, stopping to hug one another occasionally. “We are live from Lake Louisa High School where a crowd has been gathering all afternoon. The atmosphere here is very emotional. Everyone hopes that Jenna Woodson will be found safe and sound. The students here have planned a candlelight vigil for tonight. There will be grief counselors onsite tonight and for the rest of the school week. School administrators say they will offer support to students while maintaining the closest thing possible to a normal schedule as they are preparing for standardized testing.”

  “Of course,” I said. “If aliens took over the planet, school would be in session so we could get ready for tests.”

  “How true. Are you going?”

  “I guess so?” I looked to Iris for some guidance.

  She nodded in agreement. “I’ll see you there.”

  After Iris left, Meredith got home and I went downstairs to watch the local news so I wouldn’t have to be alone. The Jenna Woodson missing person’s case was the top story in the news hour. The Sheriff gave a statement. Her father made a statement while her sobbing mother held up a recent cheerleading picture and pleaded for her safe return.

  “Do you think it was a kidnapping?” Meredith asked during a commercial break.

  “I have no idea,” I said. “She got into the car willingly, but I guess no one knows what happened after that. Or if the car is even relevant.” I added that last part, but it was relevant. I knew it like I knew the patterns of freckles on my arms.

  “Are you okay?” Meredith asked, worried.

  “Yeah, fine.”

  Meredith put an arm around me. It felt good to be held. It was good to have someone holding me together when I could blow into a thousand pieces spinning into the atmosphere at any moment. “Do you want to go?” Meredith asked after a moment.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Then let’s go.” Meredith stood up and I followed her out the door, leaving my now-cold plate of half-eaten lasagna on the coffee table.

  Chapter 7

  All of Louisa turned out for th vigil. It was so big it got moved from the front lawn of Louisa High to the football field. Meredith held my hand as we wove our way through a sea of students and townspeople. I glanced around for Iris’s hair, but I couldn’t see her.

  “Here’s fine.” I pulled Meredith’s arm to stop her. We were near the back of the crowd and at the front, a pickup truck served as a makeshift stage. News trucks filled the parking lot and reports and cameramen stood on the edges of the crowd.

  “Hello.” A voice rang out through the crowd, amplified by a microphone. I could see a man and woman standing there, but nothing else. “I’m Peter Woodson, Jenna’s father.” The crowd, already subdued, fell silent. “Thank you for being here tonight and thank you for your support.”

  As he spoke, cheerleaders walked through the crowd handing out candles. Maggie Malone, co-captain of the squad, thrust a candle into my hand and glared at me with narrowed eyes. I stared at her, shocked and confused, until she flipped her hair in my direction and moved on.

  “I don’t have much to say,” Peter continued. “But I want to take this opportunity to speak to Jenna.” He stifled a sob.

  At the same time, Meredith, whose candle had been lit, tipped her burning wick to spread the flame from her candle to mine. I turned to the next person and did the same. Light crept its way through the crowd until the football field shimmered in the twilight.

  “Darling girl, please come home. We miss you and we love you. Please come back to us. If someone has taken you, we’ll find out who. We will find you. I promise you that.”

  Her mom took the mic. “It means a great deal to us to see how many people loved Jenna . . .” She didn’t say any more, but the microphone picked up her wracking sobs.

  I stared at my feet and bit my tongue so I wouldn’t cry. Closing my eyes, I immediately saw blond hair against a pale neck. I snapped my eyes open, trying to keep my breathing steady. We stood for what felt like hours, everyone in tears, silently waiting to see if the vigil was enough to spirit her back.

  Minutes or hours later, Louisa High’s guidance counselor, Mr. Holland, spoke. “Our community has been shaken. Stay str
ong. Search efforts will resume tomorrow. Thank you and goodnight.”

  The crowd began to slowly disperse. Meredith put a hand on my back and whispered, “Let’s go.” I blew out my candle.

  “Why did you come?” Maggie Malone accosted me.

  “What do you mean?” I asked quietly.

  “We know you were the last person she saw and you’re a total freak, so . . .”

  “What are you implying?” The words had to squeeze past my gritted teeth.

  Maggie glared at me with her arms crossed. “I think you know something.”

  Meredith tugged on my arm. “Let’s just go.”

  For once, I followed her, too astonished to do anything else. She held my arm and steered me through groups of people standing huddled together against the cold. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “Everyone is just upset. No one thinks you are in any way to blame.”

  When we got to the car, I let Meredith guide me into the passenger’s seat and buckle my seatbelt. The town lights flashed by my eyes in a blur on the way home.

  ~ ~ ~

  I collapsed on the couch as soon as we walked in the door. Andrew was sitting at the dining room table doing homework.

  “You didn’t go to the vigil?” Meredith asked him.

  “Why would I?” He didn’t look up. I heard his pencil scratching on his paper.

  Meredith let out an exasperated sigh and stormed into the kitchen. Since Dad died, Andrew had become impossible to deal with. I had a hard time even being in the same room with him. He must have felt the same way about us because he jumped up, grabbed his books, and ran up the stairs skipping two at a time.

  Meredith rolled her eyes and went upstairs. A few seconds later, I heard her talking on the phone.

  It was after ten when a car door slammed outside. I peeped through the blinds. Mason Ellis stood there with his brows knit and his hands in his pockets. He didn’t make a move to knock.