Lisa Jackson - Most Likely To Die

“You think she received one of the bad ones?”

“I don’t know. But when I find out, I’ll call you back.”

“Do.”

Haylie Swanson was about the last person Kristen wanted to speak with, but considering the circumstances, she knew she needed to talk to all of her classmates. Bracing herself, she clicked over to the second line. “Hello?”

“Jesus H. Christ, Kristen, why don’t you ever call me back?” Haylie demanded, her voice rising with a harsh, unrestrained fury. “I left three goddamned messages!”

“Haylie…I didn’t get them. Really.”

“Oh, sure! Your machine picked up,” she said, nearly accusing Kristen of lying.

“Oh…I haven’t heard those messages. I usually use my cell.”

“It’s your home number listed in the damned invitations, Kris,” she pointed out, so angry her voice trembled. She was breathless, as if she’d been running, and Kristen imagined her, a bundle of raw nerves, pacing on the other end of the line. “So what’s with the reunion picture? The one with my face marked up?” Haylie demanded, then Kristen heard the click of what sounded like a cigarette lighter.

“You got one, too,” Kristen said, almost whispering.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Several people got the marred invitations, we’re not really sure who, but Aurora, Mandy, Bella, me, and now you…”

“Oh…so people connected to Jake Marcott,” she said, as if the answer were obvious.

Kristen nearly fell off the chair. “Connected to Jake?”

Haylie snorted. “Well, you were dating him at the time he was killed, and Bella is his sister. I’m connected through Ian.”

“That’s kind of far-fetched, Haylie.” Maybe the woman really was having a nervous breakdown. Or maybe she was behind it all.

“Jake and Ian were friends,” Haylie explained with extreme impatience. “And whether you want to believe it or not, Jake was at the wheel the night of the accident. Jake killed Ian! I was in love with Ian, and I was once friends with Jake.” She inhaled on her cigarette. “We’re all connected to him.”

“You think the people who knew Jake are…targets?” Kristen asked, her nerves stretching as she thought about it.

“I studied everything there was to study about Jake. I made it my mission, Kris.”

“What about Mandy and Aurora?” Kristen argued. “Neither one of them dated him that I know of.”

“But they wanted to! Everyone had a thing for him, and I don’t get it. I never got it. He was bad, Kristen, really, really bad. There was a black spot in his heart, I’m telling you.”

“So anyone who ever wanted to date him is also getting marked-up invitations? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It’s all about people connected to him!” Haylie insisted. “Mandy Kim was one of the girls who helped Jake with his homework, got him through some of his tough classes, and he and Aurora worked together for a while at the pet store…you know the one, it used to be in kind of the Burlingame area, at the corner above Riverside Abbey.”

Kristen knew the area, south of the freeway, near the Terwilliger Curves. Crosby’s Critters. The place had changed hands half a dozen times, if Kristen remembered correctly. It had gone from pet store to athletic equipment sales, then became an insurance company and a Thai restaurant, and even a few other things that Kristen couldn’t recall. Now it was a coffee shop.

“You don’t believe me,” Haylie accused.

“I don’t want to believe it,” Kris said honestly. “I don’t like it.”

“I didn’t like getting that invitation.”

“Haylie, if you’re right, other people could be singled out. All Jake’s friends at Western Catholic and Washington.”

“No…no…They didn’t get invitations, though. Not to the St. Elizabeth’s reunion. Those went out only to the girls who graduated from the school.”

Kristen’s mind tried to follow Haylie’s twisted thought process. “Then there should be others.”

“Only a few more. Rachel Alsace was supposedly his best friend, as far as the girls at school went, and Lindsay Farrell, well, everyone knows she was the love of his life.”

Kristen heard the truth in that even though she’d always hoped Jake had loved her. It seemed silly now, and she peeked down the hallway, spying Ross at the kitchen table with Melissa. As if he’d felt her gaze, he looked up, and as his eyes found hers she felt a warmth spread through her. Why had she ever mistrusted him? How had she nearly let him slip through her fingers?

“Because I’m an idiot,” she whispered.

“What?” Haylie demanded.

“Nothing.” She smiled at her husband, then looked away, concentrating on the conversation. “If you’re right, then Rachel and Lindsay and anyone else who isn’t in the Portland area haven’t gotten their invitations yet.”

“They will,” Haylie predicted.

A cold chill ran through Kristen’s body. “How do you know?”

“Whoever is doing this has a reason. A big reason. They didn’t wait twenty years for nothing. Look, I gotta go. Think about it. We’ll talk later.”

She hung up abruptly and Kristen replaced the receiver just as the pizza arrived. Ross paid the pimply-faced kid who delivered it, then opened the box on the kitchen table. The hot aromas of garlic, tomato sauce, and cheese permeated the room. “You can eat this, right?” he said in mock seriousness to his daughter. “At least the cheese side…that’s okay?”

“Yeah. I’m not really into being a strict vegan.”

“Good.” His smothered grin told her he thought her fling with avoiding meat and animal products wasn’t serious. She made a face back at him but didn’t argue.

“So?” he said as Kristen reached for two beers in the refrigerator.

“It’s not getting better.” She noticed there were eight calls on the answering machine and, placing the long-necked bottles and an opener on the table, punched the Play button. “Lissa, figure out what you want to drink. There’s soda and water…”

As Kristen had expected, three of the phone messages were from an ever-more-frantic Haylie, one was from Aurora, another from Mandy Kim, and the last was Bella, all with basically the same question: Why had they been sent the mutilated invitations? There was also one telemarketer and a hang-up.

With each message that played, Ross and Lissa, who had been talking about the merits of vegan versus vegetarian, became increasingly quiet. When the last message ended Ross said, “As soon as we finish dinner we’re talking to the police, then we’re outta here until we change the locks.” He was putting paper plates on the table while Lissa searched through a drawer. “We’ll stay at my place.”

“The condo?” Lissa closed the drawer and looked in the dishwasher. “No way.”

“It’ll just be for a night or two.” Ross opened his beer, touched the neck of his to Kristen’s in the same silent toast they’d observed since college, then took a long sip. Kristen did the same. “It’ll be fun.”

“Whatever,” Lissa said with a disgusted sigh, then added, “Anyone know where the big knife is? The one we use to cut the pizza?”

“The butcher knife?” Kristen asked. “Isn’t it in the dishwasher?”

“Nope.”

“You’re sure?” As if Lissa couldn’t see for herself, Kristen peered into the dishwasher, then pulled out the drawer where all the knives were kept. “That’s strange.”

“Everything’s strange tonight,” Lissa said and settled for a steak knife.

Kristen glanced over at Ross and their eyes met. They didn’t have to say a word. In a heartbeat, Ross had drained most of his beer and was boxing up the pizza. “That’s it. We’re leaving. Now. Each of you pack a bag and I’ll get the cat.”