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You'll Be the Death of Me(68)

Author:Karen M. McManus

“I tried so hard to be careful,” Autumn says. Her voice chokes off on the last word, and she takes a few deep breaths before continuing. “I only have one customer. One of the guys I work with at Ziggy’s Diner gets migraines that his doctor won’t treat, so he takes the Oxy for that. I thought I could keep an eye on him, make sure nothing bad happened, and everything would be okay.” She lets out a frustrated moan and pummels the floor again. “And I told Boney not to go to Boston. That deal was all kinds of sketchy. He promised he wouldn’t!”

“Yeah, well, apparently the guy convinced him otherwise,” I say. “According to Charlie, Boney said you were holding them back.”

“Arghhhhh.” Autumn finally stops punching things long enough to bury her face in her hands, muffling her voice. Not enough that I can’t hear her next words, though. “I’m turning myself in.”

Alarm hits me, fast and hard. “No you’re not,” I say.

“Yes I am!” She lifts her head to glare at me. “The police need to know what Boney was involved in if they’re going to catch the creep who killed him.”

I glare right back. “If you turn yourself in, you’ll go to jail.”

“I should go to jail!”

“And then what happens to Ma?” I ask, and that finally shuts her up for a second. “Listen. We’ve been doing things your way for a while now, and I think we can both agree that your way sucks. Right?”

Autumn scowls. “Shut up.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. So it’s time to do things my way. Here’s what you’re going to do.” I’ve been thinking this through the whole time she’s been ranting. “You’re going to drop off the murder van, Uber to South Station, and take a bus to the Bronx. Text Ma and tell her you want to surprise Aunt Rose for her birthday.”

“That I want to…” Autumn stares at me in astonishment. “But the party will be over before I get there. Aunt Elena and Christy will be driving home by—”

“Tell her you want to stay overnight. You both need to be out of town, because whoever killed Boney probably knows where we live.”

Autumn tries again. “But what if—”

“And you can’t go home to pack,” I interrupt. “Buy a toothbrush at South Station or whatever. See if you can convince Ma to stay a few days. Maybe by then, the police will have solved this thing.”

“Not if they don’t have any clues, they won’t,” Autumn protests. “Since you’re sending the clues out of town.”

“I have to,” I say. “Someone was looking for you.”

“Maybe it was Gabe,” Autumn says.

“Then why wouldn’t he tell Mr. Sorrento his name? Check your phone. Do you have any messages from Gabe, saying he’s trying to find you?”

She scrolls through the pileup of texts she’s gotten all day. “I have a few from him…okay, he doesn’t specifically mention calling Sorrento’s, but that doesn’t mean that he didn’t. He might’ve just forgotten to mention it.”

I glower at her. “Stop arguing. I’m serious about this. If some drug kingpin out there knows our names, then you need to keep Ma away.” She inhales, like she’s gathering steam to argue, so I go in for the kill. “You owe me, Autumn. You owe me. I’ve been telling you for weeks not to pull this Oxy bullshit, and you wouldn’t listen. You got us into this mess. The least you can do is get Ma out of it.”

Autumn falls silent, cradling her red, raw punching hand, and I can tell by the furtive expression on her face that she’s looking for a way out. When she heaves a deep sigh, I know she hasn’t found one. “All right. I’ll go. But what about you? It’s your name on that list. You’re in more danger than anyone.” A pleading tone creeps into her voice. “Come with me.”

“I can’t. I have to stay with these guys,” I say, gesturing toward Ivy and Cal. “We need to…” And then I trail off, because I have no clue what we need to do next.

Ivy clears her throat. “I had a thought,” she says, shifting her position on the van floor. “Our only lead, pretty much, is Ms. Jamison, right? And possibly Dominick Payne. But we’re not sure how closely they’re connected.” She turns toward Cal. “What if we go to her classroom at school and check out that signed print? We can compare his signature to what’s on the D card.”

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