Truly Devious

Games are not fun when you don’t know you’re playing.

When you have enough power and money, you can dictate the meanings of words.

If you’re asking if he’s capable of arranging a kidnapping, I don’t think Leonard Holmes Nair is capable of arranging breakfast.

“The fact is,” he said, “I liked you from the first moment I saw you, when you looked like you wanted to punch me in the face for just being alive. That probably says something dark about me. And I think you like me because I annoy you. Both of us have real problems, but maybe we should make our weird personalities work for us.”

“I annoy people,” he said. “Believe me. I’m aware. It’s an effective way to communicate if you don’t have any other options. If you can’t get in through the door, throw a rock through the window. And I think maybe you’re the same way.”

Stevie’s mom and David ordered first. Stevie’s dad took longer to examine the menu, and Stevie considered impaling herself on the potato chip display rack.

“I always wanted to be around for a death,” Stevie said. “You know I’m into this stuff. And now I am around death. I feel bad for saying I wanted that, but I’m . . .”

She shook her head.

“You’re interested,” he said. “I saw how you looked when Larry came and said the police wanted to talk to you.”

“Is that bad?”

“No,” he said. “This just happened. We were here when it happened.”

He dug his nail into the grain of the wood.

“Thanks,” she said.

“For what?”

“I just think you get me,” she said.

“I do,” he said, shrugging. “We have a limited emotional vocabulary. We’re indoor kids.”

“Did they tell you what happened?” Nate said.

Stevie just shook her head.

“So are we going to be allowed out?” Nate asked.

“I guess so,” Stevie said. “Soon. My parents called me. I guess the school let them know? So your parents will know soon. Everyone is going to know.”

“Yeah,” David said. His voice caused Stevie to start. She saw Janelle take this in, and look from Stevie to David curiously. “The word is out. So we’re going to be knee deep in counselors soon.”

He would not stop looking at her. And not just looking. It was a penetrating, unwavering look.

“I better call my parents first,” Janelle said, grabbing her phone. “Can we do that? Do you think we can?”

Stevie shrugged.

“I’ll wait,” Janelle said, setting her phone down. “I’ll ask Pix when she’s out of the shower.”

“Après les déluge,” Ellie said, out of nowhere. “Les parents.”

The morning had come, and brought reality with it. And questions. Lots of questions, dancing around in her head in circles.

The questions, in no particular order:

What would the media make of this, another death at the infamous Ellingham Academy?

Wait, never mind the media—what would her parents make of this? Fancy School Manages to Kill Student. And the fact that she had been there?

Would the school close?

Maybe close for a few days. It couldn’t close for the year because of this, could it?

Why was she thinking like this? Someone was dead. Hayes was dead.

Because that is what brains do. They think. Her brain attic was full of new and strange things she had not been
able to classify and sort yet. Stevie couldn’t feel guilty for her thoughts and she couldn’t engage with all of her thoughts. That was something they taught you in anxiety therapy—the thoughts may come, but you don’t have to chase them all. It was sort of the opposite of good detective work, in which you had to follow every lead.

“Say there’s a robbery,” she said, “and there’s a getaway
car and a bunch of robbers with guns. Witness One may then recall three robbers, two with masks and one with a hat, and a black car.”

She set down one black pen cap and two paper clips.

“Witness Two may remember four robbers, all with masks, and a blue car.” She added two paper clips and replaced the black cap with a blue one. “And maybe they thought they saw a motorcycle.”

She pushed a roll of tape past.

“Witness Three is sure it was three robbers,” she went on, taking away a paper clip. “One wore a mask and a hat, and the car was green. I don’t have a green cap, so . . . anyway. Witness Three is sure of what he saw. That’s a big deal—people who think they have good memories are sometimes the least reliable but the most likely to sway others. And that witness then says that the motorcycle was with the green car.”

“Is that the tape?” David asked. “And the green car is that blue cap?”

“The point is,” Stevie said, “now that Witness One has talked to Witness Three, and Witness Three seems really sure about what they saw, Witness One may now think back and see three robbers in hats, not masks. Witness Two now questions the masks and thinks the car was green. And one robber was very tall. Witness Three claims they were all tall. And suddenly everyone starts to say that they were all tall, and that the motorcycle was with the green car.”