Page 48 of All Fall Down

Arrangingmy last visit of the day takes a little more finesse. Explaining to Maddox that I want to visit Monroe’s now ex-boyfriend results in a blank stare.

“He got into a fight,” I tell him. “He was beaten up pretty badly, and I wanted to check in on him.”

“That’s considerate of you.” Either Maddox isn’t buying what I’m selling or he’s really more teddy bear than human. I’m happy regardless. As it turns out Maddox is the easy one to appease. Jonas’s mother is far less happy to see me.

I smile broadly when she opens the door. “I came to check on Jonas.”

“He told me company was coming.” It’s clear from the way her lips purse like she accidentally sucked on a lemon wedge that he forgot to mention I was the company.

I take her acknowledgment as an invitation and waltz into the house. Unless they’ve changed things around, I know exactly where his bedroom is. If what Jonas told us was true, then his mom will be thrilled to see a girl going inside.

Well, maybe if that girl was someone other than me. But given my current notoriety, I can’t blame her.

Jonas is strung across his bed, absorbed in a PlayStation game.

“I didn’t know they still made those,” I say. It had been years since I’d played a video game, but, at the moment, I understood the appeal of delaying adolescence.

Jonas looks up and grins. He won’t be smiling for much longer, not when I tell him why I’m here. I clutch my purse a little closer. It feels heavier with the police file inside.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, checking out the deep, purple bruises on his cheek bones. A few have begun to fade to green along the edges.

“Fine,” he promises. “I think Hugo actually gave me some street cred. My Dad says I look like a real man.” Jonas’s smile slips and he forces it back on his face, but it no longer reaches his eyes. We both knew that if his father knew the truth, he wouldn’t be so proud.

“One more year,” I remind him, “and then we can get out of here.”

“Not sticking around?” Of course, Jonas remembers my plan to stay in town and run my dad’s shop. Because regardless of the mistakes he’s made, he’s a genuinely decent guy. I’m counting on that decency to help me out.

“I think I’d prefer to get the hell out of town,” I say with a laugh.

“I’m glad you aren’t staying here,” he says conspiratorially, his chocolate brown eyes rich with concern. “This place will poison you—turn you into someone you aren’t.”

Like someone willing to use anyone and everyone she knows to get what she wants? I try to push my self-disgust down but it keeps rising to the top. If I don’t find out who killed Nathaniel West, I’ll have the crime hanging over my head for the rest of my life. I tell myself it’s not self-service that compels me to use every resource I have to uncover the truth, but rather self-preservation.

“I need your help.” I can’t stomach sitting here and pretending to be a considerate friend regardless.

Jonas sighs and settles back against his bed. He points to his desk chair, and I take a seat. “I was worried you were going to say that.”

“Am I that transparent?” I ask.

“Consider it a good thing. But after all these years, and what I did to you, I don’t deserve a house call. That’s what gave you away.” He winks at me but I see the sorrow hiding in his eyes.

“Maybe you aren’t as bad as you think.” I pull the folder out of my bag and hold it up. “But you’re right I came here for a reason.”

“What is that?” he asks, not bothering to get up. In this town, I wouldn’t take a nondescript folder either.

“The case file on Nathaniel West’s murder.” If this is going to work, I have to be completely honest with him. It’s a leap of faith to spill my plans to another soul, but I was recently told I needed to be a bit more trusting. I believed Jonas when he said he had nothing to do with the murder, but that’s not the reason I’ve come to him.

“And why do you have it?”

“I paid for it.” I toss it on the bed. “You might want to skip the pictures. They’re hard to get out of your head.”

Jonas doesn’t pick it up. “Why are you telling me this, Emma?”

“Because we both know that whoever did this is following your account.”

“I’m not posting anymore,” he says flatly.

“Look, you created The Dealer to restore some karmic balance to Belle Mère.”