Page 111 of Enemies to Prom Dates
Fitz stopped next to Heath, but his eyes were on me. His expression was grim. “Heath texted me. Said he figured out who was behind the list. I’m sorry, Beth, he said it was Reen.”
“No!” Reen, now standing next to me. “That’s a lie. It’s him.”
“Don’t try to lie your way out of this, Reen. I have proof.” Heath pulled out an envelope from his back pocket and handed it to Fitz.
“It’s a bank statement,” Fitz said, pulling out a sheet of paper.
“Yep” Heath said. “I found it in her garbage. Once I suspected she was behind the List, I knew I was going to need proof. Look at the ending balance. Where, oh, where would Reen get a chunk of money like that?”
I watched as Fitz looked at the page then at me. “I’m sorry, Beth.”
“No!” Reen screamed. “You don’t understand. That’s not what you think it is. I’m telling you, he’s behind the list!”
Reen was pointing at Heath and, suddenly, nothing made sense.
“But you have no proof, do you?” Heath asked her calmly. “You’re accusing me and I’m accusing you, but I have a bank account in your name with over twenty-thousand dollars in it. And if you told me you earned it by turning tricks, I would say there’s no way you’re that expensive.”
“You asshole!”
Reen started to charge at Heath, but Fitz stepped in between them.
“Stop it! Reen explain this,” he said, thrusting the paper in her face.
She ripped the paper out of his hands. “I don’t have to explain shit. All Beth has to know is that I’m not behind the List. And I sure as hell didn’t run Wick off the road with Fitz’s car.”
“She couldn’t have.”
The sound of the new voice startled us all. As a group, we turned to find Locke also walking out of the woods. Dressed in his usual black shirt and jeans. This time sporting a black peacoat to ward off the chill.
It was odd, but he looked surprisingly less mysterious without the constant plume of steam that usually surrounded him.
“She wasn’t anywhere near this place the night Fitz’s car was stolen.”
“And how do you know that?” Fitz asked.
“Because I was following her.”
If it was possible Reen tensed up even more. “Locke, you asshole...”
“Sorry, darling, but we both know you’re a part of this game.”
“So wait, Reen is behind the List?” I asked. I turned to my friend, who was nearly ashen. “Reen?”
“No,” Locke said. “Reen’s playing another game. Aren’t you?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she spat.
“Not yet, no. But I will,” Locke said ominously, his eyes never leaving Reen’s. “But to answer your questions, Beth and Fitz, you have to use some logic. If we assume that the person behind the list was attempting to threaten Wick into silence, while also attempting to frame Fitz, you have to ask yourself why. Why threaten Wick? Why set up Fitz? Looking at the easier of the two puzzles, you know Fitz’s car was taken Friday night, sometime around eight o’clock based on the time of Wick’s accident. Which meant the person had to have access to Fitz’s car. And you know this person also had to have access to video footage from a street camera. Video footage they would know how to alter.”
Heath pulled out a cigarillo from his back pocket and lit it with a match. “This is all bullshit. Fitz, who are you going to trust? Me, your best friend. Or this fucking guy who showed up yesterday?”
“Heath wouldn’t…he wouldn’t hit someone with a car,” I said. “You wouldn’t, right? I mean, Wick was seriously hurt.”
“Of course not!” Heath shouted. “That would make me some kind of sociopath. I showed you her bank statement with the money. What else matters?”
He took a hit of his cigarillo and a waft of smoke drifted towards me. It brought back a memory.
“I know that smell.”
