Impact Zone (Noah Braddock Mysteries Book 6) Page 11

  He winced. “Yeah. I get it. Look, I'm sorry. If you gotta talk to him, it's cool. I just...” He sighed and shook his head. “I don't know.”

  Javier seemed like a nice kid and he seemed sincere. For the moment, I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt that he had a reasonable reason for me not talking to his father about our meeting.

  “What's up?” I asked. “Why are we here?”

  He held up his drink. “You want something? I feel bad you drove so far. I'll buy.”

  I shook my head. “Thanks, but I'm good.”

  He looked at the cup for a moment, like he was unsure why he had it. Then he set it down on the table and folded his arms across his chest. “Okay. So you know my sister, right?”

  “Isabella.”

  “Yeah. Okay, so she and I…we don't always get along, you know?” He wrinkled his nose. “She thinks I'm a suck-up and a goodie-goodie. I like school, I get good grades, I run track. I have a girlfriend. That kind of stuff.”

  I nodded. “Sure.”

  “And I help my dad almost every weekend,” he continued. “Lotta days after school, too.”

  I remembered Henry telling me that. “I'm sure he appreciates it.”

  Javier smiled. “Yeah. But, like, I don't mind, you know? I like it. I like being outside, and I like my dad and I like the pickers. It's cool. He doesn't have to drag me out there.”

  I nodded again.

  “My sister?” he said, and his smile disappeared. “Not so much. She hates it out there. She fights with him all the time when he asks for help. He's pretty much stopped asking.”

  “Why does she hate it?”

  He shrugged. “I don't know. Why does she hate anything? Why does she hate me for getting good grades?” He made a face. “Just how she is, you know?”

  “Sure.”

  “And she hates school,” he said. “She's not dumb, but her grades suck because she does, like, no work. Barely passes her tests, and I think that's only because she knows my dad would ground her if she started failing.”

  “Javier, where are we going here?” I said, squinting into the sunshine. “I don't think you called me up here to talk about your sister's grades.”

  He shifted on the bench. “Right. Sorry. I guess I’m kinda nervous.”

  “Don't be,” I said. “Right now, it's just me and you. Nothing to worry about.”

  He looked down for a moment. He was wearing a blue T-shirt, canvas shorts, black Puma sneakers. He tugged at the shirt like it was tight on his fit frame.

  I waited.

  He looked up. “Okay. So my sister sort of runs with a bunch of...jerks. Normally, I'd call them something else, but I don't wanna be rude.”

  “Assholes?”

  He smiled. “Yeah. That.”

  I nodded.

  “For two years now, she's just been messing around,” he explained. “Some of the popular kids, but mostly a lot of kids who just wanna get drunk and party and stuff. She stays out late, she fights with my dad, all that stuff.”

  “Okay.”

  “I've tried to tell her she's being stupid,” he said, frowning. “But, you know, she doesn't care. She thinks I'm stupid. Whatever. So she parties a lot, and the only time she's ever cool to me is when she doesn't want me to tell our dad. And I don't most of the time.” His frown deepened. “I mean, I would if I thought I had to.”

  It sounded like Isabella was putting him in a tough spot. It also sounded like she was like a lot of other teenagers: bored with school, experimenting, and rebelling.

  Not unlike how I'd been.

  “Lately, she's been hanging with kind of a worse group, though,” Javier said. “Like, half kids from our school, half kids I don't know. I see them at parties on the weekends and stuff, but they're just like...not people I'm gonna hang with.” He shifted again on the bench. “She gets drunk pretty much every weekend now. I think she's smoking weed, too.”

  “Your dad know?”

  Javier shook his head. “No. He's always asleep when she gets home. He gets up early and goes to bed early. She tells him she's going to the movies or whatever, then she sleeps in. He doesn't know.”

  “Are you asking me to have a conversation with your dad about this?” I said. “Because I don't think that's my place.”

  He shook his head again. “No, no. I'm taking too long to get to why I called. Sorry.”

  “Just tell me,” I said.

  Javier laid his hands on his thighs. “It's about the girl. In the pictures.”

  TWENTY NINE

  For the first time since I'd pulled up at the restaurant, I felt like it might not turn out to be a wasted trip.

  “The girl in the pictures,” I repeated. “From the ranch?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. When you showed me those, I didn't recognize her. I swear. I wouldn't have lied.”

  “I believe you.”

  He chewed on his lip for a second. “But I'm pretty sure I saw her today. With my sister.”

  At school?”

  “Yeah. Well, no,” he said, correcting himself. “Yeah, I think I saw her at school in the parking lot. But she doesn't go to our school. I'm almost positive. I think she's a little older.”

  “What was she doing there?”

  “I don't know,” he said. “Was after second period. I was going to math and the classroom is way on the other side of campus, so I usually take this shortcut...” He frowned. “It doesn't matter. I walk by the parking lot. So I'm walking to class and I see a car pulling out of the lot. Isabella was in the passenger seat. She was ditching.”

  “She do that a lot?”

  He hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, pretty much. She has a friend who works in the attendance office. They work as an aide. She gets her slips to get back into class.”

  “Sounds like she covers her bases.”

  “So I see the car coming and I see Isabella in the passenger seat,” Javier said. “I wasn't shocked or anything like that because like I said, she does it a lot.”

  “You're sure it was Isabella?”

  He smirked. “She flipped me off. Was definitely her.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “But she was in a car I didn't recognize,” he continued. “She's got a couple friends that she normally bails with and I know their cars. But I didn't know this car, so I thought that was weird.”

  “What kind of car?”

  “A Jetta,” he said. “White. Pretty new.”

  “Okay.”

  “So she flips me off and I...gave her the finger back,” he said, his shoulders falling slightly, like he was embarrassed to tell me. “And I looked to see who was driving. And it was a girl I didn't know, but, like, she seemed familiar. You know how that happens?”

  “Yeah. Recognize the face, but can't place the name.”

  “Yeah, exactly. So they drive out of the lot and I'm trying to think who the girl is because I know I've seen her before, and I go to math and I'm not even paying attention because I'm trying to think who it is. Ten minutes left in class and I finally remember.” He leaned forward. “The girl in those pictures that you had.”

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out one of the folded up pictures I'd been carrying with me. I smoothed the crease and handed it to Javier.

  He studied it for a long moment. “I'm positive that's her. She was wearing sunglasses, but it looked like her. Same hair.”

  I didn't want to get overly excited, but there was a small jolt in my gut, as someone had finally seen the mysterious girl.

  “Why'd you call me?” I asked. “Why not your dad?”

  He studied the picture again, then handed it back to me. He reached for his drink and took a long pull from the straw. He fidgeted on the bench and set the drink back on the table. “Because I'm so sick of him and her fighting.”

  “Him, meaning your dad, and her, meaning Isabella?”

  “Yeah. It's all the time. And, look, I'm not perfect, okay? I do some stupid stuff sometimes. I've stayed out late with my girl
friend,” he said. “I've told my dad I was going some place and then gone somewhere else. Isabella and I, we sorta cover for one another. I don't wanna just rat her out, and I don't think my dad knows anything about the girl. And I know he's worried about my uncle now.” He scratched the top of his head. “So I just thought I could call you.”

  “Did you go home to get the card?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “No. I memorized the number. It was on the table after you talked to my dad and I picked it up to look at it. I do this weird thing with numbers where I memorize them. All sorts of random numbers. Prices on food, license plates, weird stuff.”

  “Must make math easy.”

  He smiled. “Math is my easiest class, yeah.”

  I watched the line of cars move slowly through the drive-through lane, the muffled voice on the order board speaker greeting them. “You're pretty sure it's her? The girl in the picture?”

  “Yeah. I'm even more positive after seeing that picture again.”

  I nodded. “Okay. I believe you, Javier. And I'm glad you called me. Thank you.”

  He looked relieved.

  “But now I need you to do something for me,” I said.

  He shrugged. “Okay, sure.” His expression darkened. “Oh, wait. Are you gonna make me call my dad?”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I want you to call your sister.”

  THIRTY

  Javier said that texting her would be better.

  “She might not answer if I call,” he said. “But she'll probably text me back.”

  “I need you to ask her to come here and meet us,” I explained. “But don't tell her I'm here.”

  He frowned. “How?”

  “What's most likely to get her here?” I asked.

  He thought for a moment, then grabbed his phone and started typing. “Gonna tell her my car won't start. My car is old and it's happened before.”

  “Will she come?”

  He hesitated, then nodded. “Probably. I mean, she's doing stupid stuff, but she's not a bad sister. You know?”

  I nodded. “I know.”

  “Okay, I sent it,” he said. “I know she has her phone. She always has it.”

  “Who doesn't?”

  “Seriously. Except in my history class. I have this teacher and he makes everyone turn their phones off and put them away in their bags. And that's cool, except then he wants us to use the Internet and the WiFi barely works at our school. Makes no sense.”

  I chuckled. Javier was a nice kid.

  His phone vibrated and he looked down. “It's her.” His thumb slid over the screen and he smirked at the phone, then shook his head. “Says I have to buy her fries and a shake if she comes.”

  “I'll cover it,” I said.

  “She can buy her own,” he said, tapping back on the screen. He watched it for a moment, then ten seconds later, he said “She's coming. Probably be like twenty minutes.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I'm gonna go wait in my car. If she sees me sitting here, she might wonder what's up and leave. So I'll wait until she gets here and then I'll get out.”

  “Right, I got it,” he said.

  I went back to the car and dialed Carter.

  “Where the hell are you?” he asked. “You've been gone all day.”

  “Miss me?”

  “No. Just curious.”

  I explained my day to him and where I was.

  “Making headway,” he said when I was done. “Nice.”

  “A little. We'll see.”

  “The uncle thing is weird.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Welton say he missed me?”

  I chuckled. “Not even a little. But he did ask about you.”

  “He loves me and he knows it,” he said. “You need me to come up?”

  “Not yet,” I said. “I'll let you know.”

  “I won't be home tonight,” he said. “I'm working something.”

  “Do I ask?”

  “No.”

  Another pang of guilt rattled my gut because he was hustling for work.

  “But it'll be cool,” he said. “I can rearrange if I have to. Just call if you need me.”

  “I will.”

  “Jesus, I feel like we're an old married couple.”

  “We aren't?”

  “Go fuck yourself,” he said. “There, that feels better. Later.”

  We hung up and I shook my head. But I was smiling.

  Javier was still sitting on the bench, scrolling through his phone, sipping his soda.

  It had to be such an odd existence for him and his sister. They were living in two different worlds on a daily basis. Living among the pickers on the ranch, watching their father labor for a living, and then being absorbed into normal high school days like thousands of other kids who were unlike them. I wondered if their friends knew where they lived, what their father did, where he'd come from.

  Ten minutes later, a faded red Jeep Cherokee pulled into a parking stall three spots over from mine. Isabella got out. She was in denim shorts, a yellow tank top, and mirrored sunglasses. Her long black hair was down over her shoulders and even from that distance, I could see the bright red lipstick she was wearing. She easily could've passed for someone in her late twenties.

  She walked up to her brother and gestured toward the restaurant, no doubt asking for her fries and shake.

  I got out and walked over to them.

  “Fuck you, I'm not buying my own,” she snapped as I came up behind her. “I'll leave your dumb ass here, Javy. You told me I'd get food if I came, and I'm here.”

  “You'll get food,” I said.

  She turned around. Even behind the sunglasses, she couldn't hide her surprise when she recognized me.

  I smiled. “But only after we talk.”

  THIRTY ONE

  “What the hell?” Isabella asked. “Are you stalking us now?”

  I shook my head.

  “I called him,” Javier said.

  She pushed the glasses off her face and on top of her head. Her eye make-up was thick, her lids heavily shadowed, her eyeliner dark and heavy. “What are you talking about?”

  “I called him,” Javier repeated. “I asked him to come here.”

  “And I asked him to call you,” I said.

  “So your car is fine?” she said, her face pinched with anger.

  Javier nodded.

  “This is garbage,” she said. “I'm out.”

  She took a couple steps toward her car and I slid in front of her. “I think you should stay.”

  “I think you should get the hell out of my way,” she snarled.

  “I'll call Dad,” Javier warned. “If you leave, I'm gonna call him and tell him I saw you leaving school today.”

  “You will not,” she said dismissively. “You always threaten me and you don't ever do shit.”

  “I swear, Iz,” he said. “If you leave, I'll call him. And I'll tell him about all the partying and other crap you've been doing.”

  Isabella sighed, exasperated. “So what is this? An intervention?” She glared at me. “Are you a counselor, too?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. But I wanna know who you left school with today.”

  For the first time since she'd arrived, Isabella looked unsure of herself. “What?”

  “Who was driving the Jetta, Iz?” Javier asked.

  She shifted her weight from one sandaled-foot to another. She fussed with her hair. She probably would've teleported herself away if she'd been able.

  “A friend,” she finally said.

  I pulled the picture out and held it in front of her. “This friend?”

  She glanced at the picture, but then her eyes darted away. “I don't know who that is.”

  “Iz, come on,” Javier said. “I saw her. It's the same girl.”

  “You don't know anything,” she said, her voice laced with anger.

  “Your brother seems certain the girl in the picture was the girl driving the car you left school
in,” I said. “You're saying it's not?”

  Isabella didn't say anything.

  “If you're telling me it's not, then I'd like to meet her so that we can verify that,” I told her. “I'll be happy to apologize to you if that turns out to be the case.”

  She stayed quiet.

  “But the fact that you aren't saying anything tells me your brother isn't wrong about her,” I said, making sure the picture was in her view. “You were with her today, right?”

  “It's none of your damn business,” she said, but some of the snap was gone.

  “I'm making it my business,” I told her. “Because if you lied to me the first time you saw this photo, I'm going to tell your father and Mr. Dowdell.”

  She blinked several times and I could tell that made her uncomfortable. I just wasn't sure which part of my statement caused the reaction.

  “Why do you care about her?” Isabella said.

  “I want to know why she was on the property,” I told her, leaving out the part neither of them knew yet. “Mr. Dowdell hired me to find her and to find out what she was doing there.”

  “I don't know what she was doing,” she said.

  “But you do know her. Right?”

  She sighed and sat down next to her brother. When she decided she was too close to him, she scooted more to the side, frowning at him.

  “Her name's Sabrina,” she said.

  “Last name?”

  “Don't know.”

  “Where you'd meet her?”

  “A party,” she said. “Couple of weeks ago. Was at some dude's house and she was there.” She smirked at me. “She had good weed and she was sharing.”

  Javier shook his head and looked down at his shoes.

  “Good weed is hard to find,” I told her. “And if you wanna shock me about how cool and rebellious you are, you're gonna have to do better than that.”

  Color flushed in her cheeks. “Whatever.”

  “So you smoked together,” I said. “You started hanging out or what?”

  She hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, pretty much. She's cool. I've been to a couple other parties with her.” She paused. “She's come and got me at school a couple times.”

  “Jesus,” Javier muttered.