Page 68 of What Happened on Roslyn Street?
“I’m trying to get information!” Margaux says.
“He’s on our side,” I say. “We don’t need to torture information from him.”
“If you think this is torture, just wait…” Margaux grumbles.
“What information doyouhave to share?” I ask her. “You’ve been going to school here longer than us. Your father works here. You’ve known about this school your whole life, and I have a feeling you’re a big name in this little community. Surely, you have something to share.”
“I—” Margaux inhales, closing her eyes. “Idon’t.I don’t have anything. That’s why I’m so stressed! My father is a big name in our community, sure, but me? I’m nothing. He doesn’t tell me anything, and?—”
“Margaux.” I step closer and rest a hand on her shoulder. “It’s fine. You don’t need to feel bad, but the point is… we need Caldwell.”
“I know,” she says softly.
“I have information,” I say, turning away from her. “There was a bird mask near where they found Poppy’s body, and on the inside, there was a Strode crest. That’s what led me to the school. And…” I reach deep into my pocket, pulling out Caldwell’s watch. “Is this really yours?” I dangle it in front of his face.
He nods.
I let the watch drop into his hand, having no furtheruse for it. “This was another clue I thought I found, but if it’s yours… it’s nothing.”
“Thank you,” he says weakly, holding the watch with white knuckles.
“The last thing,” I say, “is a painting. The one at the club. It may be nothing, but when I looked at it… it burned. And it was wearing a bird mask, exactly like the one I found on Roslyn Street. I don’t know how it can relate, but I have a feeling… the people who own the club or are involved with it… they’re involved with the murder, too.”
“It sounds like the painting is charmed.” Caldwell frowns. “Why didn’t you tell me this that night?”
“Because I didn’t trust you,” I say.
Margaux snorts. “She thought you were the one in the bird mask.”
“I would never wear something that tacky.” Caldwell rolls his eyes. “Where do we go from here?”
“Um…” I look out the window. “Roslyn Street. That’s where it happened.”
“I have rehearsals,” Margaux says, her posture returning to normal. “You two go. Text me if anything happens. I’ll be there in a flash.”
“All right.” Caldwell stands.
“And Tobey?” Margaux watches me intensely. “Let’s have a private word before you go.”
Caldwell hesitates with his hand on the doorknob, watching me for permission to leave. I give him a slight nod.
Once he’s outside, I turn to Margaux. I don’t have to prompt her to speak; words spill from her mouth.
“I still don’t trust him,” Margaux says. “I’m sorry. I want to, but I have a feeling he’s hidingsomething. I don’t know what it is, but his heart was a hammering mess when you brought out that watch.”
“And you’re letting me go off alone with him?” I lift a brow.
“Yes, because for some reason… I don’t think he’ll hurt you. Just be on guard. If you’re not back before dark, I’ll hunt him down.”
Margaux is misguided. After everything we’ve been through, I know I can trust Caldwell. He’s had many opportunities to do away with me if that’s what he wanted—but it isn’t.
I mean something to him—even Margaux can see that—and he wants to solve this mystery as badly as we do.
“I’ll be fine,” I say gently. “Don’t worry about me.”
“How am I supposed to stop worrying?” There’s a soft, genuine nature to her words. “You’re the only human here. Half the people here could snap your neck without any effort, and?—”
I fling my arms around Margaux, pulling her into a crushing hug. She slumps against me, pressing her forehead into my shoulder.
