Jillian didnt reply; Chess dug her fingernails into her palms to keep herself from saying more, to keep her face calm. Jillian was considering it, Chess knew it, and if she started gibbering justifications and arguing her case, shed only convince Jillian to say no. The only way to get what she wanted was to act like she didnt really care.
Sure enough, it worked. Just hit the plus sign there.
A couple of clicks, a few seconds of typing, and Chess had the records of the New Hope Mission in front of her and her heart beat much, much faster with every line she read, every name she read, from the list of employees and volunteers at the Mission between 1990 and 1997.
They all looked familiar. Wheres the list of victims?
Why, whatoh. Oh, wow. How did Trent and Vaughn not see this?
Maybe because Trents tunnel vision led only into his own colon. Chess didnt say that, though. Instead she said, Maybe the others didnt have souvenirs of the place in their house, and nobody knew theyd worked there.
Thats true. Jillian typed something on her own computer. Yeah. The first victim, Harry Stark, theres nothing in his file.
Would stuff they found searching his house be in his file?
Jillian stood up, already clicking keys on the computer with one hand and pulling out her phone with the other. No, it wouldnt. Come on. We need to go see Trent and Vaughn. Right away.
Chapter Eight
The Warings house seemed like the logical place to meet; it was where Chess thought they were going, but Jillian drove past the exit they should have taken off Highway 300. Where
Downside. Jillian paused, obviously waiting for Chess to reply, but Chess didnt really have a reply to make.
Downside. Of course shed been there. Shed lived there a couple of times; well, not in Downsideshe didnt think that even the branch of Church government that handed out foster children like cheap Festival trinkets would place kids in Downsidebut close enough, on the border streets between Downside and Cross Town, Downside and Northside at the far edge. Streets where the distance to Downside seemed to shrink after dark so it felt like living under a looming shadow, like worms of danger crawling out of the earth after the sun went down.
But as with anything dangerous, Downside had its pleasures. Chess knew those, too. She knew Downside. Knew all kinds of things could be found there. Her heartbeat quickened.
Only to drop again when Jillian switched lanes. Yeah, for someone interested in drowning out some memories Downside was like a fucking amusement park made of broken glass and sin. But Chess was going there in the company of a fully tattooed member of the Black Squad. Nobody would even talk to her, much less sell her anything.
And even if they would, she wasnt doing that shit anymore. It had been fine when she was in the Corey Home passing the time any way she could. Not now. Not when she had a future.
She refused to think about the flask in her bag and what it meant. Refused to think about how fucking tired she was, so damn tired of fighting, of putting all her energy into not remembering, not thinking; tired from the nightmares and memories that crowded into her bed with her every night and made sure it would be hours before she slept, if she slept at all.
Tired of being herself, and of feeling like herself, and of knowing what that meant.
Theres no need to be scared, Jillian said, interrupting Chesss thoughts. A welcome interruption.
And one Chess had to stifle the urge to laugh at. Im not scared.
Hey, its kind of a scary place. I mean, even I get nervous going there. I wont go by myself.
Chess looked at Jillian. Really looked at her, in a way she hadnt before. Yeah, Downside would scare Jillian, for all that she was on the Black Squad. Downside would scare Jillian because Jillian didnt understand that no place was safe and that some of the biggest, most expensive houses in town were more full of hatred and sadism, had worse odds of someone escaping alive and intact, than the worst slum. Jillian didnt know that money and nice things and clean, shiny hair that fell to her shoulders in perfect waves wouldnt do shit to protect her if she happened to stumble into the wrong persons path one day.
Downside was no more dangerous than anywhere else when it came down to it. It was just a hell of a lot more honest.
Im not scared, she repeated, and felt rather than saw Jillians raised eyebrows and little smirk of condescending amusement.
Well, just the same. Be careful, okay? Stay with me, which means stay with Trent and Vaughn. Andwell, Downsiders are like ghosts. The rules are the same, you know what I mean?
Chess smiled; in that, at least, Jillian had the right idea. Dont look at them, no eye contact, dont talk to them, no sudden movements, dont approach.
Right. Jillian slid the car off the highway, onto the exit at Cross Street. Because I have to be honest with you. If something happens, if real trouble starts and were attacked or something theres really not much we can do about it. Even with Trent and Vaughn. Theres just too many of them.
Also like in the City, Chess thought, but she didnt reply. Instead she just nodded and watched the buildings go by, the stately red brick and stone, the shiny steel, of Triumph Citys good side replaced by crumbling walls and glassless windows; wide tree-lined streets and sidewalks had given way to broken pavement jutting from the earth like it was trying to get up and flee. Graffiti everywhere; litter everywhere; bodies slumped against walls or sprawled on splintery porches or automotive skeletons, smoking and drinking cheap booze out of paper bags.
Something about it made her feel well, better. Like all that vibrant life, downtrodden and cheap as it was, reached through the car to caress her skin. People just living their lives, just being who they were, and that was okay.
She couldnt imagine how that would feel.
Jillian turned left, then right, passing bars full of people even in the middle of the day. With every foot the car advanced Chess felt more comfortable was the only way she could describe it. Or, less comfortable in the car and more eager to get out, to join the crowds and just disappear into them. No one would care what she did there. No one would judge. No one would expect anything from her, be it grades or anything else.
She didnt realize her hand was moving until the cold metal door handle touched her skin. Damn, had Jillian seen? No. Okay, good. Jillians eyes focused directly on the road, her mouth twisted in a little frown. Concentrating, or trying to look tough? Chess didnt know. All she knew was that the same way the Churchs tidy cottages made her feel antsy and awkward, just being in Downside made her feel like she fit in.
So, have you always lived in the cottages? On-grounds? I thought Squad members didnt always.
We dont. I wanted to, though. I mean its cheap, they take all the bills out of our checks so we dont have to worry about rent and utilities, and, you know, all the single Elders and stuff live on grounds, so Everybody hangs out, its fun. Youll love it.
Ugh. No, she would not. Everybody hangs out sounded like slow torture. But how do youdo they ask you where you want to live, or ?
They assume you will. For the Squad its different. We get to choose. But for everyone else, I think they have to get permission if they want to live somewhere else.
Chess filed that one away to think about later, because Jillian was pulling the car up to the curb outside what had once been a stately home and was now a fairly typical Downside apartment building with a lawn full of weeds and broken glass and a couple of holey sheets tacked up inside the windows to keep out prying eyes.
Trent and Vaughn stood outside; they couldnt have looked more out of place if theyd worn clown suits and written COPS on their faces in black marker. Something in the way they stood, the way they watched the street Chess didnt know what it was, exactly. She just knew they didnt look like they belonged. They didnt look like victims, no, but they didnt look like they belonged.
What are we doing here? she asked.
This is where the last murder happened. Jillian turned off the car and reached for her door. Last week. Tom Imry. Hed been dead for a couple of days when he was found.
Wait. Chess grabbed Jillians arm; she didnt want to, but she had to ask the question and she didnt want the men to hear, because if they heard it theyd know she was basically implying they were stupid.
Or they were actually smart, which would mean the answer made her look stupid. So a random ghost murder and only one person in a building full of them died?
We dont know if the building was full. We dont know exactly when he diedit was Sunday, it seems, but it could have been anytime after about ten Saturday night and before daylight, since of course ghosts wouldnt be wandering around during the day. Although they could have waited in there with him until Sunday night and left after it got dark. He wasnt found until Tuesday.
Trent opened Chesss door before she could reply. Well, well, he said. If it isnt the teenager. Come to dazzle us all with your theories? To Jillian he said, Whats so important?
Cesaria found something.
Her pacifier? Trent gave a satisfied bark of mean laughter. Yeah, ha-ha, shithead.
No. Jillian closed her own door behind her and walked around the car to stand at Chesss side. Nice of her. Unnecessary, but nice. She found a connection between your victims.
Trents mouth fell open. Double ha-ha. Whatwhat connection? Theres no We looked.
Not hard enough. Have you heard of the New Hope Mission?
Trent and Vaughn looked at each other, confusion all over their faces. Dumbfounded wasnt the most attractive look for Trent, Chess noticed with some satisfaction.
But Vaughn spoke, and hed been decent to her, so she felt a little bad. The Warings were part of that, right? You found those souvenirs in their closet.
They were all part of it, Jillian said. All of the victims were affiliated with the Missionas employees or volunteerswhen Haunted Week happened.