Read Online Dead Girls Don't Lie by Jennifer Shaw Wolf - Free Book Online
Authors: Jennifer Shaw Wolf
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you’re confused and grieving the best person you’ve ever known.” She smiles her mischievous smile. “Okay, maybe not the best person you’ve ever known, but certainly in the top ten.” I can’t believe she’s making jokes about her being dead, but it’s so much the Rachel I used to know that I want to replay that part again and again. Then she gets serious.
“I thought I had to do this alone. I’ve done a lot of things you wouldn’t approve of to find the answers I needed. Even broke my best friend’s heart.” She looks away, but I can tell how sorry she is. She shakes her head like she’s struggling to get control.
“I’ve worked so hard, but there’s still something missing, something I think will end this whole thing. I’m going tonight to try and find it. If I do, you’ll probably never see this, except maybe at our twenty-year class reunion.” She smiles again, but it’s a sad, scared smile. “If I don’t make it, it’s up to you to find the truth. I told Eduardo to give you something, something that only you will understand. I know you can help me. You’re the best person I know. You always do the right thing.”
She presses her index finger against the screen, so I can see the tiny line across the tip of her finger, the leftover scar from when we bled together. “I love you, chica . I’m sorry for everything. I miss you.”
The video stops on that image. I press my index finger against hers through the glass on my phone, sharing the signal we’ve had since that day on the playground, the signal that we would always be friends.
I sit back, my mind reeling with questions. She knew she was going to die. I’m sure of that now, but why? Whose secret was she trying to keep? Eduardo’s? But she wants me to trust him? Was it worth getting killed for? Eduardo gave me the loyalty pledge, “something that only you’ll understand,” but I don’t understand any of it.
I close my eyes and slump in Dad’s chair, heartsick, wanting to help but knowing I can’t do what she needs me to do. I’m not strong, not like she was. I’m the quiet one, the one who hangs out with little kids and blushes when a guy tries to talk to her.
What can I do?
I’m startled by my phone vibrating. Another text comes through.
tomorrow 10 am answer then delete all
It’s attached to a picture of the grade-school playground.
I don’t know what to do. Answer? Delete? Pretend I never saw the messages? Take it to the police and finally tell them everything? Somehow the video from Rachel is harder to ignore than the text. Maybe because it’s more like she was asking in person.
I scroll back to the text from “E” and compare the number from the forwarded text and from the text I just got. They’re the same. Eduardo. What does he know? What does he think I know?
A truck drives by. It sounds like Dad. I panic, pick up my phone, and delete the last two texts and the original one from Rachel.
I set the phone on the desk, shove the newspaper back into the recycling, and head for the door. As soon as my hand touches the knob, my phone vibrates again. I turn around and pick it up.
4 her
I close my eyes, breathe in, and then quick, before I can change my mind, I text Eduardo:
I’ll be there.
Chapter 8
Evan said Rachel’s house was still a mess, but I wasn’t expecting this. I stare in disbelief at the front yard that until a few months ago was so familiar. The house is small, only one level, and old, but Araceli had painted it a bright yellow with white trim and a red door. There were always flowers in the yard, red geraniums in the boxes in front of the window, and the wide front porch was always clean.
Now the house looks like the wounded remnant of a war zone. The flowers in front have been trampled. Yellow police tape, now ripped and blowing in the breeze, hangs around the perimeter of the porch, and shattered pots of dying geraniums litter the ground. The front door, the porch railing, the sidewalk
“I thought I had to do this alone. I’ve done a lot of things you wouldn’t approve of to find the answers I needed. Even broke my best friend’s heart.” She looks away, but I can tell how sorry she is. She shakes her head like she’s struggling to get control.
“I’ve worked so hard, but there’s still something missing, something I think will end this whole thing. I’m going tonight to try and find it. If I do, you’ll probably never see this, except maybe at our twenty-year class reunion.” She smiles again, but it’s a sad, scared smile. “If I don’t make it, it’s up to you to find the truth. I told Eduardo to give you something, something that only you will understand. I know you can help me. You’re the best person I know. You always do the right thing.”
She presses her index finger against the screen, so I can see the tiny line across the tip of her finger, the leftover scar from when we bled together. “I love you, chica . I’m sorry for everything. I miss you.”
The video stops on that image. I press my index finger against hers through the glass on my phone, sharing the signal we’ve had since that day on the playground, the signal that we would always be friends.
I sit back, my mind reeling with questions. She knew she was going to die. I’m sure of that now, but why? Whose secret was she trying to keep? Eduardo’s? But she wants me to trust him? Was it worth getting killed for? Eduardo gave me the loyalty pledge, “something that only you’ll understand,” but I don’t understand any of it.
I close my eyes and slump in Dad’s chair, heartsick, wanting to help but knowing I can’t do what she needs me to do. I’m not strong, not like she was. I’m the quiet one, the one who hangs out with little kids and blushes when a guy tries to talk to her.
What can I do?
I’m startled by my phone vibrating. Another text comes through.
tomorrow 10 am answer then delete all
It’s attached to a picture of the grade-school playground.
I don’t know what to do. Answer? Delete? Pretend I never saw the messages? Take it to the police and finally tell them everything? Somehow the video from Rachel is harder to ignore than the text. Maybe because it’s more like she was asking in person.
I scroll back to the text from “E” and compare the number from the forwarded text and from the text I just got. They’re the same. Eduardo. What does he know? What does he think I know?
A truck drives by. It sounds like Dad. I panic, pick up my phone, and delete the last two texts and the original one from Rachel.
I set the phone on the desk, shove the newspaper back into the recycling, and head for the door. As soon as my hand touches the knob, my phone vibrates again. I turn around and pick it up.
4 her
I close my eyes, breathe in, and then quick, before I can change my mind, I text Eduardo:
I’ll be there.
Chapter 8
Evan said Rachel’s house was still a mess, but I wasn’t expecting this. I stare in disbelief at the front yard that until a few months ago was so familiar. The house is small, only one level, and old, but Araceli had painted it a bright yellow with white trim and a red door. There were always flowers in the yard, red geraniums in the boxes in front of the window, and the wide front porch was always clean.
Now the house looks like the wounded remnant of a war zone. The flowers in front have been trampled. Yellow police tape, now ripped and blowing in the breeze, hangs around the perimeter of the porch, and shattered pots of dying geraniums litter the ground. The front door, the porch railing, the sidewalk
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