Page 91 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

VANCE: 10:30. Bellweather PD if possible.

Elliot smiled.

ELLIOT: i'll be there

He locked his phone. Nothing to worry about. Detectives reinterviewed witnesses. Normal. Lucas's jacket had changed the investigation. Normal. Vance wanted clarification. Normal. Everything had an explanation. Elliot replaced the mask. The gloves. The hoodie. Closed the container. Moved the boxes back exactly where they'd been. Before leaving, he paused. There was one thing that bothered him. Not Vance. Not Mason. Not Lucas. Dylan. Elliot leaned against the storage-room door. Dylan knew both victims. Dylan had been the last confirmed person to see Lucas. Police were watching him. Ronan was protecting him. And Dylan, despite everything, continued behaving as though Elliot's jealousy was amusing. That was careless. Elliot hated careless people. They created unnecessary problems. His phone remained warm in his hand.

He pictured Dylan standing in the doorway. Night, psycho. Elliot smiled faintly. Then switched off the flashlight. The storage room disappeared into blackness. Nothing to worry about. Not yet.

Chapter Nine — The First Body

ELLIOT

SATURDAY · 7:32 A.M.

Lucas Harper's body surfaced just after sunrise. Elliot learned about it while brushing his teeth. His phone began vibrating against the bathroom counter hard enough to creep toward the edge, the screen flashing repeatedly through a thin coating of steam. He ignored the first notification. Then the second. By the fourth, he reached across the sink with his toothbrush still in his mouth and caught the phone before it fell. Seven messages. Three from Claire. Two university alerts. One from his mother. One from Ronan, despite Ronan sleeping approximately twenty feet away. Elliot looked at that one first.

RONAN: Wake up.

He stared at the message. Then another arrived.

RONAN: Now.

Elliot rinsed his mouth. The bathroom mirror had fogged around the edges, leaving only the center clear enough to show his reflection. His hair was flattened on one side from sleep. A faint crease from the pillow marked his cheek. He looked tired. Normal. He unlocked the phone. Claire's messages waited.

CLAIRE: elliot

CLAIRE: they found lucas

Then, thirty seconds later:

CLAIRE: he's dead

Elliot read the final sentence twice. Not because he hadn't expected it. Because there was something strange about seeing certainty arrive in six characters. Dead. For twelve days, Bellweather had been allowed to imagine alternatives. Lucas ran away. Lucas got scared. Lucas was hiding. Lucas owed somebody money. Lucas was sleeping off a breakdown in a motel. Lucas had disappeared intentionally because attention was the point. People could tolerate almost any explanation if it preserved possibility. Dead removed possibility. Elliot opened the university alert.

BELLWEATHER UNIVERSITY CAMPUS SAFETY

Bellweather Police have confirmed that a body recovered early Saturday morning from the Bellweather River has been identified as missing student Lucas Harper, age twenty-two. Authorities are investigating the circumstances surrounding his death. Students are asked to avoid the eastern river trail and surrounding access roads while law enforcement remains on scene. The second alert had arrived four minutes later. Bellweather University will provide additional counseling services throughout the weekend. Students with information regarding Lucas Harper or Mason Kerr are urged to contact Bellweather Police. Elliot lowered the phone. Water dripped from the faucet. Somewhere outside the bathroom, a floorboard creaked. Ronan was awake. Elliot stared into the mirror. Lucas Harper. Twenty-two. Finance major. Red hair. The kind of person who laughed too loudly when drunk and treated embarrassment like entertainment so long as someone else was experiencing it.

He'd been easy to dislike. Not as easy as Mason. But easy. Elliot touched the edge of the sink. His heartbeat was steady. That bothered him slightly. Not because he wanted to be upset. Because he knew what reaction Ronan would expect. Shock. Maybe fear. Concern. Something visible. Elliot could provide those. Providing them wasn't difficult. The irritating part was that Ronan had started noticing when Elliot provided anything at all. The bathroom door opened without a knock. Ronan stood there wearing black sweatpants and no shirt. His hair was a mess.

“Did you see?”

Elliot turned.

“Yeah.”

Ronan studied his face. There it was. Immediately. That new habit. Looking. Elliot hated it.

“Body came up near the south embankment,” Ronan said.

“How do you know?”

“News.”

“Already?”

“Apparently some runner saw it.”