CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Trevor chewed furiously on a piece of toast with jam, making sure not to get any crumbs on his keyboard. He was starved. He’d barely eaten. His stomach had been upset since the moment he saw Jane at their house. He didn’t like that Jane was sleeping on the couch below. She was creepy and weird, and he didn’t care what anyone else thought; she wanted Dad so she would have a family of her own.
It was nearly midnight. Everyone had gone to bed. He wished Mom were awake so he could show her what he’d found. For the past few days, whenever he got the chance, he researched popular databases private investigators used. And he had found a gold mine of information. He paid for two databases, the ones that didn’t need too much information to sign in, using PayPal. He didn’t have much money in the checking account his parents had set up for him when he was ten, but he had enough. Besides, if he found anything useful and even if he didn’t, he was sure Mom would reimburse him.
Yesterday, as he’d scrolled through a list of Jane Lewitts, and there were plenty of them, he had found another article about Greg and Barbara Lewitt fundraising for a homeless shelter. This photo was different, though, because there was another couple, a younger couple, standing next to what looked like a ten-year-old girl and a boy he guessed to be seven or eight.
He clicked on the link he’d saved in his bookmarks. The picture popped up. Leaning close to the screen, he saw Jane’s resemblance to the younger couple and realized they must be her parents. But who was the little boy? The caption read: Greg and Barbara Lewitt at Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco. Also pictured are Barbara Lewitt’s sister and brother-in-law and their two children, two weeks before Bill and Dorothy Schaefer and their son, Lucas, were killed in a head-on collision.
Lucas. Lucas Schaefer.
Grandpa had called Trevor by the name of Lucas. Coincidence?
He typed Lucas Schaefer’s name into the search bar at the top of the page.
He then leaned back in his chair and waited for the results. As he sat there, Tank jump to his feet, a sign that someone had entered his room. Thinking it must be his mom about to tell him to turn off the computer and go to bed, he removed his earbuds, excited to show her what he’d discovered. But when he looked toward the door, his heart skipped a beat.
It was Jane. She looked different. She wore no makeup. Her hair hung loose around one of Hailey’s bigger T-shirts.
His heart thumped hard against his chest as he wondered if she could see what was on his screen behind him. Had he clicked out of the image of Jane and her family? He wasn’t sure. Seeing her standing there had made him lose his ability to think straight. He prayed he had clicked out of the page he’d been on, but just in case, he straightened his spine, hoping his head would block the screen from her prying eyes. Keeping his gaze on hers, he raised his arm so that his elbow and forearm rested on his desk. If he could blindly reach for his keyboard, he could click a few buttons and shut down his computer.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
She smiled. “You’re obviously doing something.”
“Scrolling, tr-trolling, surfing the web.” He cringed. He hadn’t stuttered since he was in kindergarten. She freaked him out.
She took a step toward him. And then another. “Why don’t you like me, Trevor?”
Chills crawled up his legs like hundreds of tiny ants. “I never said I didn’t like you.”
“You didn’t have to. It’s obvious.”
He swallowed. She was standing over him now. So close he could smell her sickly sweet perfume. Why is she here, in my room? He would have asked her if his voice hadn’t gotten stuck in his throat.
Just as she began to lean closer yet, her prying eyes directed at the screen, Tank growled, prompting Jane to stumble backward and give Trevor just enough time to twist around in his seat and hit a couple of command buttons.
The screen went black. He inhaled.
Good dog, Trevor thought. “Do you need something?” he asked instead. “Do you want me to go get Mom?”
Her smile appeared forced, like a skinny, crooked line across her lower face. “No. I’m so happy that we’re all in the same house, under the same roof together. I just wanted to see what you were up to and say good night.”
Creepy as hell. “Good night,” he said.
She didn’t budge. That made him even more nervous, if that were possible. What did she want from him? The woman was clearly bad news. She reeked of evil. Why couldn’t anyone else see it?
The very edges of her mouth curved upward. “I think of the Harmons as family.”
Was she nuts? “Why?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You are a wicked child, aren’t you?”
Wicked? His mind swirled. Mom and Dad were in their room right down the hallway. Same with Hailey. Couldn’t they hear her talking? His heart was racing now, but he wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted to make a quick exit, but she was standing by the door. She would grab him. Tank was good at growling, he might even bark, but he would never bite anyone.
Jane peered out the large-paned window. The house sat on top of a cliff, which made for an amazing view of the lake and the forest of trees. Even from where Trevor sat, he could see one little light across the lake.
“Is that Gillian’s house?” she asked.
“You know Gillian?”
Jane arched both brows. “I only know of her. I know her mom is a big fat scaredy-cat.” She feigned a shiver and laughed.
Trevor couldn’t believe he’d ever thought, even for a second, that she had looked like a princess from a fairy tale, because right now, if he had to pick a character from a kids’ movie that she reminded him of, it would be Cruella de Vil. All she needed was the long smoking stick and a couple of black stripes running through her hair.
Tank might not be aggressive, but Trevor was thankful to have his dog close by. He could feel his thick body pressed against his knee. “How do you know Gillian’s mom is a scaredy-cat?”
“I know a lot of things.” She turned away from the window and looked straight at him, through him, as if she knew his every thought. “I know that you’ve been searching for information on me.”
His throat went dry. He turned toward his screen, but it was blank. “Why would I do that?”
“Because you don’t trust me.” She raised a finger to her head and twirled it around in circles above her ear. “You’ve got one of those curious minds, always searching for answers. We’re a lot alike in that way.”
Run. Run. Run. Or at least scream!
“Cat’s got your tongue?” She released a long sigh, as if she were suddenly bored. “We’ve come full circle now. And I still don’t know—”
“What are you guys talking about?”
Trevor had never been so relieved to see his mom and sister standing at the door. Hailey’s hair was rumpled and in disarray. She rubbed her eyes.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Jane said, “and I noticed there was a light on upstairs, so I came up to investigate.”
“Trevor,” Nora said, “you need to get to bed.”
Trevor didn’t waste any time doing what Mom said. He slid under the covers, not daring to look at Jane. Tank curled up on his dog bed on the floor close to his bed.