Two Truths and a Lie

31 MEET THE MERCERS

That afternoon, Emma sat on the Mercers’ front porch and thumbed through Laurel’s glossy copy of Elle. A faint citrus smell wafted from the neighbor’s lemon tree and the sounds of an ice cream truck jingled from the next street over. One of the tennis-team moms jogged by with her golden retriever and gave Emma a wave just as Ethan’s beat-up Honda pulled to the curb. The engine coughed and sputtered as Ethan turned off the ignition.

Emma’s heart gave a tiny flutter as he stepped from the car. Ethan looked nervous as he raised his hand in a wave. At that moment, Mr. Mercer emerged from the garage clutching a white rag covered in black grease stains. He looked up with surprise, but then shrugged and shot Emma a weak smile.

Ethan walked up the front steps, noticing Sutton’s dad, too. “Is it okay that I’m here?”

“It’s more than okay,” Emma answered. “I told them about us at breakfast.” From now on, there would be no more hiding. They could be friends—and more—out in the open now.

Mr. Mercer’s cell phone suddenly bleated loudly. Sutton’s dad, who was pretending to be absorbed in polishing his motorcycle but was clearly watching the interaction between Emma and Ethan, glanced at the caller ID. His face darkened, and he swore loudly. He slipped into the cover of the garage to take the call.

“That’s weird,” Emma said, her eyes on the garage.

“Maybe it’s a work call.” Ethan forced a grin but Emma could tell he was uncomfortable. “A hospital patient gone haywire.”

A car door slammed and an engine growled to life. Mr. Mercer’s Audi reversed down the driveway. Emma waved good-bye to him, but Mr. Mercer didn’t even notice her. His face was drawn as he backed the car onto the street and hit the gas. He swerved, blasting his horn when two boys zoomed by on skateboards. Emma frowned. Maybe that phone call had been a work emergency.

“Remind me not to get on that guy’s bad side,” Ethan said, running a hand through his dark hair.

He sat next to her, and Emma filled him in on everything she’d found out the night before—it had been too loud and crowded to talk at the party, and they’d had Laurel in the car on the drive home. Ethan’s eyebrows went higher and higher as she explained that Thayer couldn’t have killed Sutton.

“Let me get this straight,” Ethan sounded out after Emma finished. “The night Sutton died, someone else hit Thayer with Sutton’s car?”

Emma nodded. “It definitely wasn’t Sutton who hit him. Someone must have taken her car and dumped it in the desert. Maybe that person came back and killed Sutton, too.”

“So who was it?”

“I don’t know. I want to ask Thayer, but it might make me look suspicious if I don’t know.”

A gust of air caught the wind chime, and Ethan flinched at the sudden ringing, making Emma smile. “Scared of a little wind?” she teased.

“Very funny,” Ethan said, glancing across the lawn. “I am scared that whoever killed Sutton is still out there,” he whispered.

“I know,” Emma said, shivering despite the heat. “Me, too.”

A frown settled on Ethan’s face. “If it wasn’t Thayer, who could it have been? All signs pointed to him. He made perfect sense. And I still think he’s dangerous.”

Emma shrugged. “Even if he’s troubled, he didn’t do it. I suppose that it’s too much to hope the killer has left town? I haven’t heard from him, or her, since the dance.”

“Maybe.” Ethan folded his ankle over his knee and glanced sideways at Emma. “But something tells me that’s too good to be true. Whoever it is could still be out there. I’m up for finding the truth if you are.”

“Definitely,” Emma whispered. She leaned her cheek on Ethan’s shoulder. He kissed the top of her forehead and she tilted her chin to meet his lips. Ethan returned her kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. His hand reached up to trace the soft hairs that framed her face. He kissed her softly, his lips fitting perfectly with hers, making Emma want to freeze time. She’d never had a real boyfriend, and now she had something—someone—more amazing than she could have ever imagined.

A car pulled into the driveway, and Emma and Ethan broke apart. The car door of a blue BMW opened, and Thayer hoisted himself out. Emma felt Ethan stiffen next to her.

“Oh!” Emma said. “Uh, hey, Thayer.” What was he doing here? Hadn’t he just said that morning that Mr. Mercer had warned him away?

“Don’t stop on my account,” Thayer said in a sarcastic voice, arms crossed over his chest.

He walked slowly across the front yard. Even with his limp, he had that specific kind of confidence that seemed easy. “So. What’s up?”

“We’re just hanging out,” Emma said foolishly, fumbling for words.

“We?” Thayer’s pale eyes flickered next to Emma. When Emma turned her head, she saw Ethan stepping quickly off the porch. His sneakers kicked up gravel as he trekked across the driveway toward his car.

“Ethan?” Emma called. “Where are you going?”

Ethan didn’t answer as he strode away. It was like he couldn’t get away fast enough. His hands fumbled with the keys as he let himself into his car. He hit the gas, and in a flash, he was gone.

Emma stared at the disappearing cloud of exhaust. What the hell was that all about? Next to her, Thayer made a tsk sound with his tongue. “Why don’t you and your friends leave that poor guy alone?”

“What do you mean?” Emma snapped.

Thayer threw his hands up in surrender. “Don’t jump all over me!” He put a sneaker on the porch and leaned forward, flexing his calf. “Seriously, Sutton. First it was that prank where the poor kid lost his science scholarship, and now you’re faking a relationship with him?”

Emma stared at him, trying to understand. Slowly, it sunk in. Thayer assumed if Sutton was kissing Ethan, it had to be a part of some prank she and her friends were pulling for the Lying Game. Emma opened her mouth, wanting to make it clear that she and Ethan definitely were a real item, but she remembered how hurt he’d looked in the parking and didn’t want to rub it in.

“So what are you doing here?” Emma said, deciding to change the subject. “I thought you were scared of my dad.”

Thayer shrugged. “Laurel gave me the all clear. I came to hang out with her—it’s been forever since we talked.”

He moved toward Emma to walk in the house and paused briefly by her side, as if he wanted to say more. He was so close that Emma could smell his pine soap and fresh-smelling clothes. His bare legs were long and muscular. His white soccer sneakers were scuffed and caked with dirt, as though he’d just come off the field. He reminded her of all the hot, unattainable jocks Emma had ever gone to school with, the ones who’d never given her the time of day.

She quickly snapped back to reality. Okay, so Thayer was cute. But Ethan was her boyfriend.

Suddenly, a prickly feeling danced across the back of Emma’s neck. She turned around, sure she was being watched. A breeze rifled through the leaves of a tall weeping willow. Birds shot up in a cluster, calling to each other with tiny squawks. Emma looked all around, finally noticing a face in the window. It was Laurel, staring at her and Thayer from the living room. Emma raised her hand in a wave, but Laurel just kept glaring. Her light eyes sent a chill straight to Emma’s bones. She looked furious enough to kill.