Page 12
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end.
“The twins,” he says, and I blow out a breath. He doesn’t know why I ended up in New Ocean. He’s just smart enough to realize something must have happened.
“I’m sure you are aware there are many types of journalists. And on the surface, you can learn to cover a great feature about a national high school tournament for elite teams and athletes. And don’t get me wrong, I still want you to write that story.”
I sit back and wait for the other shoe to drop. I know why he chose me over more seasoned journalist.
I shake my head. “I’m not a spy, Nigel.”
His voice is calm, calculated. “These stories are rare. Maison and Olivia were the golden couple of New Ocean, but she ended up dead in the arms of the other brother. Now both twins act like nothing happened and continue with their lives as if it’s all completely normal.”
A shiver runs down my spine. I think of Chris and the fact that he is still teaching somewhere, even though he pursued one of his students. He ruined my life, and he got to move on with zero consequences. The authorities considered it a gray area, because I was so close to being eighteen, which is why he got off without any charges.
This is the same type of scenario.
Privileged guys taking what pleases them, treating women like cattle. She was a girl, probably my age, with hopes and dreams. I was awarded a second chance to start over, and Micah took that from Olivia.
A dark gleam hits Nigel’s eye. “We can expose a much deeper subject and write a story that addresses the judicial system’s lack of accountability for the wealthy. Micah should not walk among us right now. What Jade neglected to tell you earlier, because she doesn’t know, is that girl had lethal amounts of GHB in her system when she died. That was the real cause of her death, not a car accident, as everyone says. He killed her. He should be in prison, not the main focal point of a sports tournament.”
I can’t say I disagree, but how does he know this?
He squints as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “They changed the story. Their lawyers fabricated the truth that went out to the public. I guess that’s what you can do when your father is a billionaire—control the media.”
I frown, having to think for a second. “You mean…? You’re saying she died of a drug overdose from a date rape drug?”
He leans his arms forward. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. They drugged her, or one of them did, at least. Then they crashed the car to make it look like an accident. But that’s not even the worst part of it.”
I swallow hard and look at him, hoping he continues. He has my full attention now as he pulls out his phone and brings up pictures of her. Pictures of the crash scene, specifically of her dead body, before she was pulled away. I hitch a breath when I see how gorgeous she is, even in death. Her face is angelic, almost perfect. She had a heart-shaped face, blonde tresses down to her mid-back, eyelashes for days, even as her cold, blue-eyed stare bores into me. They hadn’t even shut her eyelids yet in this photo, that’s how freshly dead she was. My blood runs cold seeing this. Not at all what I was expecting on my first day at New Ocean Prep.
Nigel seems bored with my reaction, as if he’s already spent so much time staring at this photo, he’s unaffected by the atrocity of it. “When I did some digging,” he says, ignoring my startled reaction, “I found pictures of her online. Those bruises on her neck and shoulder are old, you can tell by the color. One of them did that to her… I just know it.”
Jesus.
I go completely still and my pulse ticks faster. I don’t think I want to know how Nigel got access to this photo. I’m thinking his skills run deeper than being a mere high school journalist. He would have had to hack into something to access these.
“What makes you think they will let me in? They don’t seem like the most accepting group.” I don’t miss the shift in his face as he scrutinizes my chest and my general ruffled appearance.
He pauses and blinks. “Try undoing your top button to start.”
The weight of what he said hits me. How to gain their attention and trust is resting in the amount of cleavage that’s hidden behind my XL shirt, and I feel that weight in the pit of my stomach. Do I want these guys to notice me?
Nigel sits back and watches me, giving me a moment with my inner turmoil.
“No one said this will be easy,” he says after a few seconds and I’ve still yet to say anything, “but a story like this can put you on the map and get you into any school you want. This is bigger than anything I’ve ever seen or come across, and I don’t think anyone else at this school can handle a story like this.”
He eyes me curiously, and I’m not sure what sort of first impression I gave him to make him think that I can. “You won’t be alone. I’ll be here to help and guide you, but it will be up to you to do whatever it takes to get them to trust you.”
I swallow and nod, suppressing the dread in my stomach. “Okay,” I tell him, “I’ll deliver you the story.” I’ll do it for a girl I’ll never meet, but who symbolizes every young woman who didn’t matter. I joined the paper for this reason, and Nigel is giving it to me on a silver platter. Maison will be my starting point. He seems the easier of the two, and given he’s already flirted with me, hopefully, it won’t be too hard to get him to open up.
Nigel stands and heads to his desk. He grabs a leather-bound book and hands it to me. “I don’t know if you journal or not, but you should. Every good journalist should write daily. Start by observing them and jotting down everything you see, even if you think it’s trivial. Watch and learn each of them, study them.”
I grab the soft book from his hands and press it against my chest. Butterflies hit my stomach, those same butterflies I felt earlier when I looked in Maison’s eyes. I don’t want to relive what happened last year, but if my future and happiness rests on taking down two egotistical, spoiled rich kids who hurt and utterly destroyed a girl, then so be it.
Chapter Four
Ten Days till Alaska
Nigel knew from the second he saw my reaction to Maison that investigative journalism was what would draw me. To uncover the story that everyone in this town is ignoring. I don’t know if I’m cut out for it, but while I’m searching for something nasty and dark, I’m hoping I’ll find something bright and beautiful. At least when it’s done, I can leave and never look back. These people are irrelevant to me. I have to remind myself of that.
