Natasha was getting impatient. "What are you doing? You're Googling Josh?"
"What do you know a
bout him?" I asked her. I clicked the search button.
"Not much. Just that his parents are world-renowned philanthropists," she said. "They've helped everyone from the homeless here to AIDS victims in Africa. Why?"
The Google results popped up. There were more than a million entries. I started a new search: St. James Academy suicide.
"Oh. Did you want to know what I know or what I've heard?"
Natasha's disapproving tone should have been patented. It could be recognized at even the faintest decibel level. So it was true. She'd heard about Josh's shady past as well. I glanced at her over my shoulder. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she gazed down at me like she was all disappointed. This girl was going to make a great mother one day. Or a drill sergeant. I was about to apologize for being so very immature when she glanced at the computer screen and blinked. Her mouth dropped open slightly. My heart stuttered. When I looked back again it was all there in headline form.
ST. JAMES STUDENT IN SUICIDE SCANDAL
PRIVATE SCHOOL SUICIDE ... OR IS IT?
POLICE SAY 'NOT ENOUGH EVIDENCE' IN
PRIVATE SCHOOL MURDER MYSTERY
209
"Oh my God."
There was a basketball hovering just behind my mouth. Natasha grabbed my desk chair and pulled it over. She nudged me aside and commandeered the mouse. Good thing. I wasn't sure of my motor functions at the moment.
She opened the first story and we scanned it together. Sophomore Connor Marklin. Dead of an apparent drug overdose. Bruises on his arms. Signs of a struggle. Alleged falling-out with roommate--a minor whose name has not been released. Police suspect foul play. Local authorities bring boy and parents in for questioning.
Then, in the next article: Suicide note ruled authentic. Parents of the deceased will not press charges. "We ask that you respect our family's privacy during this difficult time." Investigation closed.
I sat back in Natasha's chair. My body had been filled from head to toe with lead. I couldn't have moved if I'd tried.
"Everything she said was true."
"Everything who said?" Natasha asked.
"Noelle."
"Well, that would be a first."
"What if he did it, Natasha?" I said quickly. "What if he killed this guy?"
"First of all, I'd like to point out that Josh's name appears nowhere in these articles," she said.
"Yeah, because he's a minor," I replied.
210
"But Josh Hollis? Come on, Reed. You really think he's capable of something like that? You know him."
"I thought I did," I said. "But clearly ..."
Suddenly, snippets of conversations with Josh started playing themselves out in my mind. Josh saying Thomas didn't appreciate me. How Thomas never thought about other people's feelings. Had he been trying all along to undermine Thomas? To make me hate him? To make himself--his thoughtful, considerate self- look like an angel in comparison? I remembered the look Josh had given me when I had first hooked up with Walt Whittaker in the woods. He had looked so angry, but I had thought he was angry on Thomas's behalf. Now I wondered . . . had Josh always liked me? Had he been manipulating me all along?
"He turned in Rick," I heard myself say.
"What?"