Two Can Keep A Secret

Chapter 9

Jack: I'm suspended from the soccer team!

Colt: Next time you'll mind your own business.

Jack: I know you took it. You went too far this time. Give me back the baseball and I won't get my parents or the cops involved.

Jack: I swear the next time I get my hands on you, you're dead.

"Well, there it is. We've got out murder confession. I think we're done here," I said, eager to go home and be finished with this night.

Reina swiveled the chair around to face me. "He wanted to own a homeless shelter for teens, you know. He made it clear he had to own one because he hated the feeling of not having control." Reina faintly chuckled. "He wasn't a good person, yeah, but that's not the point. Sure, his classmates hated him, the town hated him more, his father hated him the most and I...I alternated between loving and hating him, but that doesn't mean he deserved to die. It doesn't mean that I should spend sleepless nights thinking about who could have done this and why. And it definitely doesn't mean his killer should go scot-free."

I shrugged but inwardly, I felt bad. Reina obviously loved Colt a lot and while she tried to act like she wasn't affected, she apparently was. And she was right. Even if Colt was despicable, did that mean he deserved to die?

"You have a future in motivational speeches," I smiled faintly, hoping to cut through the tension.

She grinned back, before swiveling back to the screen and clicking on the fourth set of emails. This one didn't have a name I recognized. It was labeled Mad Hatter. I frowned, confused, and Reina began to explain.

"A mad hatter is slang for someone who deals drugs, basically. This dude probably sells in cities and such, places where he gets lots of profit. Colt buys stuff from him and starts his own monopoly in a small town like this. Mad hatter agrees to it because they probably cut a deal which gives him maybe 10% of the money made. It's a win-win for everyone." Reina beamed cheerfully as she delved into the workings of the drug world.

MH: What kind of order is this? You put your friends up to this, is that what? Better be happy with the stuff I give you before I cut you off completely.

Colt: It's not my order man. I'm just the messenger.

MH: Tell your guy if he wants it so bad, he should come deliver his message in person. No way I'm going to let another business open up if I'm getting out of it.

Colt: Another business?

MH: Don't play dumb with me. It's no use trying to play me when you're the one really getting played. Your friends want to start up their own thing, Colt. Deal with them before I deal with you.

"Wow, for the first time, Colt isn't being sarcastic. This mad hatter must be a scary guy," I said.

"Colt isn't scared of him but he needs him if he wants to make his own money-money that his dad can't control," Reina defended.

"So who do we think killed  Colt?" I asked.

Reina stood up to stretch. "Let's hope it wasn't Mad Hatter. We go after him and we can just kiss our lives goodbye. My money's on Mindy and Jack, Mindy was probably the brains and Jack, the brawn."

She headed towards the door and I started to follow her, before stopping. Quickly, I went back to the computer and opened up Colt's search history. I didn't have time to actually look through it so I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture.

"You coming?" Reina asked, standing in the doorway.

I jumped away from the desktop, attempting to look casual. "Yep, let's go." She locked the door and we walked to the car. 

"So how are we going to deal with Jack and Mindy? Monitor them so we catch them in a lie? Record them saying some undeniable evidence? Try to-" I began.

"Or we can just accuse them to their faces and see how that works out."

 ♦️♦️♦️

That night, I slept like a baby. It was as if the universe gave me some sort of reprieve before what it knew was going to be a stressful day. I rolled out of bed, quickly dressed up, and drove to school. I stepped out of my car and stumbled head first into Davy Turndel.

"Woah, there," he laughed, steadying me. I gave him a small smile. Davy was tall, with light brown skin, and a mop of brunette curls on his head. If you had asked me last week, Davy seemed like a cute, chill, and nice guy who would be really fun to hang out with. Now, when I looked at him, I saw that day in the hallways when this all started and his emails with Colt. 

"Davy, that day in the hallway, what were you asking Colt about?" I asked gently.

"Oh, yeah, I heard about Colt's death. That's gotta be rough. Anyway, we were talking about a deal we had but uh, you probably wouldn't understand," he said, backing away.

"You sure it wasn't about $5,000 worth of drugs?" I questioned, smirking as Davy's face turned red in alarm.

"What? Why...why would you say that? I...I have to go," he muttered frantically.

"Then who should I talk to instead? The police? Your parents? The football coach?"

Davy laughed bitterly, finally turning to face me. "You tell anyone and the football team will just kill you."

"You seem very sure about that. Did they kill Colt, too?"

Davy heaved a deep sigh and I cheered inwardly. He was giving in!

"Follow me," he mumbled regretfully. 

We walked through the large football field into the tiny abandoned snack shop on the side of the field. Davy took off his cap and rumpled his curly hair nervously.

"What do you want to know?"

I studied Davy under the flickering light of the snack shack and I couldn't reconcile this boy with the emails I had read yesterday. Davy looked like a guy caught up in a mess that was bigger than him. He didn't look like a murderer.

"Davy, what is the football team doing to you?" I asked, forcing myself to be soothing. I had grown so used to the "every man for himself" mentality in Edgemond that I had to remind myself that the good people of Clement would not appreciate my brand of tough love.

Davy's face closed down and his eyes were guarded. "Nothing. Look if you want to know what happened with Colt, here's the rundown. We asked him for something, he took our money, he didn't give us what we wanted. Obviously that pissed us off. But you can't get money from a dead guy so we shouldn't even be suspects."

"Five thousand dollars? That's a lot of drugs."

"They wanted to start their own business, I guess. We thought Colt wouldn't figure it out until it was too late. Guess he was smarter than we thought. He took our money and never followed through." Colt angrily kicked at the dirt beside his shoe.

"And the football team blames you," I finished softly. "Davy, I don't think you killed Colt. I think you're scared, though. Scared people make stupid decisions. Don't let the team force you into making a stupid decision."

Davy opened his mouth to object but I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked out on to the field. There was no use in blaming Davy for anything. He seemed like he blamed himself enough.  Still it meant that now we were sure Davy had nothing to do with Colt's death. One down, two to go. 

"Wait!" Davy yelled, "I can help you! I can help you find who killed Colt."

"Why?" I was genuinely curious. No one offered anything without a motive.

Davy stared at the ground for awhile and finally shrugged. "It seems like a smart decision."