Kyle chimed in: “That’s why I got Ricky to report the Unknown Partygoer. We thought they would think he was the Smasher. We didn’t know Danny would confess. It just all got out of hand.”
Maybe it was the truth. It explained Charlotte’s head. Explained why Ricky was the only kid who saw the Unknown Partygoer—creating a monster other than Danny to blame things on. Explained why Ricky raced his car into a tree, from the guilt.
“Dad, put the gun down,” Kyle said. “It’s over. I’ll tell them it was an accident. We can tell them I moved the body, that you and Ricky had nothing to—”
“Shut up,” Noah said.
Images of that night were forming in Matt’s mind, the pixels coming together: Charlotte finding a place to hide in the house when the police broke up the party. Finding Kyle in a bedroom. Kyle shit-faced, putting his hands on her, Charlotte pushing him away. Then she was on the floor, blood seeping from her head. Kyle called Ricky to help, and they brought her body to the creek. Kyle was still wearing Danny’s jacket from the drunken party shenanigans. He saw Matt on the trail, panicked, called his father for help.
Maybe Kyle and Ricky were disagreeing over calling Noah—the fight Jessica saw the night Charlotte was killed. But Jessica had referred to the person as Ricky’s date.
Then it came to him. Maybe Kyle wasn’t interested in Charlotte. Maybe she stumbled upon something she shouldn’t have. The class president and the school’s star running back in a compromising position.
“She found out you and Ricky were together. Caught you. And you killed her to keep your secret.” It was so unnecessary. Adair wasn’t the most progressive place, but being gay wasn’t exactly something to kill over.
Kyle shook his head. “Dad,” he said again, “put the gun down.”
Noah kept his aim trained on Matt.
Matt understood then that Noah had no intention of letting him walk out of there.
“You won’t get away with it,” Matt said. “The video shows Kyle in my brother’s jacket. The FBI knows.” A lie, but he had to try.
“The video proves nothing.”
“Then why?” Matt said, his voice pleading. “Why kill them?” His voice broke. “Why kill my family?” Matt was taking a leap. But everything had happened after that video had appeared. And the only person who had the resources to kill his family, hire a professional, as Keller had speculated, was Noah Brawn. Kyle was a law student who relied on his father for support, and Ricky was disabled.
“It wasn’t supposed to go that way. I loved your mother,” Noah said.
The words hit Matt like a two-by-four in the head. He was right.
“What does he mean, Dad?” Kyle asked. “What’s he talking about?”
Matt shouted again, “He’s talking about how he paid someone to kill my family! To protect you for killing Charlotte. And her baby.”
Kyle Brawn looked confused, then gut-punched.
“You wouldn’t.” Kyle spit the words at his father. He looked at his dad, his eyes filling with tears. “You didn’t!”
Noah ignored him. “Let’s go,” he said to Matt. He gestured to the sliding back doors.
“Oh my god,” Kyle said. “That’s why you were acting so weird about that cop’s wife giving Mrs. Pine evidence. The blood work she was talking about. It was you. Charlotte wasn’t lying.” Kyle started breathing heavily, like he was hyperventilating.
“We’ll talk about this later, son.”
“No! We’ll talk about this now! I told you it was an accident. I told you we should tell the police what happened. She was saying all those things about you, and I just pushed her to get her out of there. But you…”
“What? Saved your ass. It would have ruined your life.”
“And yours,” Kyle said. “She said you forced her.”
Matt felt the wind knocked out of him.
“She was lying,” Noah said.
“She said she had proof.” Kyle took in a ragged gasp of air. “Said the baby was yours!”
Noah turned to his son, the gun momentarily not pointed at Matt’s chest. “It wasn’t like that.”
“When I took you to see her at the creek. I thought she was still breathing. That she’d moved. I thought—” Kyle and his father faced each other. “But you—you took that rock and—”
Matt lunged for the weapon in Noah Brawn’s hand, thinking it was his last chance. He felt the cold metal in his grip as he tugged to get the gun away from him.