Jack_ Secret Vengeance - F. Paul Wilson [81]
Jack went cold. He’d covered his tracks well enough to keep anyone at school from tracing him—except Levi—but was that good enough to elude the police?
He needed to muddy the waters a little.
“Everybody would,” he said.
Tim looked surprised. “They would? Why?”
“Because no one can figure out how he got into Toliver’s locker the last time.” He described what Toliver had done to his last lock, then added, “But whoever it was got into the locker anyway.”
Tim shrugged. “All he’d have to do was cut off the lock.”
Jack shook his head. “Toliver had to cut off the lock the next morning. And the possum was inside. How do you explain that?”
“I can’t.”
Jack made a point of taking a long, slow look at the grave.
“Maybe Marcie was doing it.”
Tim grunted. “Oh, come on, Jack!”
“Well, from the sound of his note, Toliver seemed to think so. So until someone comes up with a better explanation, that seems as good as any.”
Jack had said it as a spur-of-the-moment thing, but the more he thought about it, the better he liked it. Not that he believed it for an instant, but if he mentioned it here and there around school in a half-serious fashion, he bet it would catch on and spread like a midsummer wildfire in the Pines.
“If you think about it, Tim, it answers all the questions. No one could figure why the prankster was picking on the most popular and best-liked guy in the school, but revenge by Marcie answers that question. It also explains how the objects got off Marcie and into the locker, and how every lock was bypassed.”
Tim’s expression was incredulous. “You expect me to believe there’s a ghost involved?”
“It fills in all the blanks. Got a better theory?”
“No, but I’m sure as hell not telling the sheriff a ghost story.”
You won’t have to, Jack thought. Because everyone else is going to believe it—or want to.
That was what living close to the Pines did to people. Strange things went on in that nearby wilderness, and after a while you either accepted them or moved away.
The Revenge of Marcie Kurek … Oh, people were going to love that story, and they’d tell it and retell it until it became an accepted part of Pinelands lore.
Jack, of course, knew better. He and he alone knew who had really broken into Toliver’s locker and why.
Except …
Except for the sock, the ring, the sneaker, and the hair band … someone had to put them there. Jack didn’t believe in ghosts, but if not Toliver—he’d looked genuinely shocked to see them—and not Jack …
Then who?
4
“I can’t believe it,” Weezy sobbed as she buried her face in her hands. “Carson Toliver killed Marcie?”
Dark had fallen and they were sitting on one of the benches by the lake. Jack had relayed what Tim had told him.
“Tim says, with the note and all, everything points to him. It’ll be in the paper tomorrow.”
She raised her head and looked at him. Her tearstained cheeks glistened in the glow of a nearby streetlight.
“But that means I could have been…”
“I know…”
He could have added “next” but no need. She’d already reached that conclusion.
She wrapped her arms across her chest. “I feel so scared and cold and … I think I’m gonna be sick.”
Jack hesitated, then slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. He felt her resist, then tremble and lean into him.
“You’re safe, Weez. He’s gone and I’ve got your back. It’s over.”
Except for the piney blood … if there was any.
“Should I tell the police what he tried to do to me? I thought it didn’t matter once he was gone, but maybe it does.”
Jack took an instant dislike to that idea.
“What would that accomplish? The police are convinced he’s the killer. Putting yourself in the middle of this mess doesn’t help them, and can only hurt you.”
She snuggled closer, like a kitten trying to borrow a little warmth. Man, that felt good.
“You’re right. You’ve been right a lot lately, Jack.”
“Just luck.”
Jack remembered an old saying that went something like, The harder I work, the luckier I get.
Then she asked the question Jack couldn’t answer.
“But who was breaking into his locker?”
So he decided