Mojo (Page 50)

Behind them a poster hung in a store window. When I zoomed in, I saw that it bore the picture and the name of the missing California girl Trix told us about. With that I was able to search for news articles about the case, and sure enough, it was true—the pool guy was convicted. That info could’ve confirmed Trix’s story, but then again, this poor guy wouldn’t have been the first to get thrown in jail for something he didn’t do. After all, Trix’s dad was a lawyer. Maybe he knew just how to frame someone.

Checking one of the earlier articles about the case—one written before the pool guy’s arrest—I found something intriguing. Where was that little California girl last seen? That’s right—a park. It was a city park and not a nature park like in Ashton’s case, but still that was too much of a coincidence.

I knew I couldn’t sit around on my fat butt poring over the Internet any longer. I had to get out and do something. Even though that might mean drawing Sideburns and his switchblade out of the shadows to de-nose-ify me. But what could I do? Where could I go? Who could I talk to? The answer to that last question was obvious, but it wouldn’t be easy. I had to talk to Trix—in person.

I called her, pretty much expecting her not to answer, but she did. Obviously, she wasn’t thrilled to hear from me, but I convinced her I wanted to get together and talk things over, not for my benefit but for Audrey’s. Finally, she’s like, “Okay, I’ll meet you at the coffee shop we went to last time. But I’m only doing it because you’ve been Audrey’s friend for so long.”

Now my problem was how to get there. Obviously, Audrey wouldn’t drive me, and Nash had football practice. Besides, he and Brett probably would think I was crazy for even wanting to talk to Trix. And then there were a couple of other halfway good friends at school who had cars, but this might end up being a dangerous trip—it wouldn’t be fair to drag halfway friends into it. What choice did I have? A taxicab was the only option left. You know you have to make a change in your life when you’re reduced to paying somebody to drive you around.

On top of that my anxiety level rose with every mile the cab traveled. All sorts of scenarios played in my head, the main one being that Trix was the one who hired Sideburns in the first place and now she was just luring me in for a quick knifing. Thinking about it, I actually felt a little queasy, and the cab-driver’s gas problem didn’t help. I’m not talking about fuel for the car either. I’m talking the guy couldn’t control his rottenegg farts. It was brutal.

When we got to the coffee shop, I didn’t ask him to wait. I didn’t know how long I’d be, and besides, I figured I could get a more fragrant ride home from a different driver. Trix, in her usual black-and-white outfit, was already at a table inside, so I ordered a large café mocha and joined her. The place was filled with the usual professional types, who, I was pretty sure, weren’t packing knives.

I’m like, “Hey, thanks for meeting me.”

And she goes, “To tell you the truth, I thought about backing out. Those things you said about my dad were pretty unforgivable.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I made any of it up. I was just trying to protect my best friend, you know.”

“So do you still believe it?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m here.”

“You should be at the police station. They’ll tell you how stupid it is.”

I shook my head. “The police and I don’t get along too well.”

“Then what do you want from me?” she asked. “I’ve already told you it wasn’t true. Are you waiting for me to swear on a stack of Bibles or something?”

“But why would Nash and Brett make up a story like that?”

“Why?” She sounded like the question exhausted her. “Because I’m different? Because I don’t fit into their stereotype of what a Hollister kid should be? People like they are can always find reasons. Kind of like how the kids at your school found a reason to call you Body Bag.”

I guess she caught the surprise on my face because she’s like, “That’s right, Audrey told me all about the Body Bag thing.”

“My school ranks pretty high on the vicious scale.”

“Yeah, but kids at my school know how to be vicious on a whole different level.” She paused to take a drink of her coffee. “You know, what I don’t get is why you puppy-dog around after the likes of Nash and Brett. That doesn’t make you a rich kid too, you know.”

“They’re my friends.”

“You really believe that, don’t you?”

“I don’t see why I shouldn’t. You never hear them calling me Body Bag. Actually, we’re pretty close.”

“Right,” she said sarcastically. “But you don’t think I could be good for Audrey?”

“That’s different.”

She looked up from her drink. “Why is that different? I mean, why are you so ready to believe bad things about me but not the others? Is it because you think I might just be g*y?”

“What? No.”

“It seems pretty homophobic to me.”

I felt my face suddenly flush. “Are you kidding? You can’t even play that card on me. I’ve been best friends with a lesbian practically my entire life.”

Trix leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. “But she never went out with a girl that whole time. Not in any kind of romantic way. Now she might actually start dating someone, and you can’t take it.”