“Sutton?” Madeline shouted, her voice cold and unfriendly.
Then Laurel gasped. “There she is!” She shone the flashlight across the yard to where Emma stood. They ran toward her, tramping through the flowerbeds and past the porch. Emma took off down the narrow corridor, her heart drumming in her ears.
“Sutton!” Charlotte, Madeline, and Laurel wove around the cars. “Come back here!”
Emma sprinted, her feet screaming, her gaze on the street just a few yards away. Just as she reached the end of the driveway, her foot landed on something sharp and hot. She yelled out and flew to her knees.
“Get up!” I screamed uselessly at her. “Get up!”
Emma scrambled to her feet. The girls had squeezed past the Subaru, too, and started down the corridor. Emma locked eyes with Laurel. Her shoulders were hunched angrily. Emma let out a whimper and staggered into the street.
And then the automatic light timer on the garage clicked off, bathing the driveway and the street in total darkness. Emma froze, her heart jumping to her throat. She groped for the edge of the block wall that surrounded the Mercer house, then ducked around it, out of their view.
“Sutton?” the girls called. Their high-heeled shoes clicked on the asphalt. They were moving closer and closer in the darkness. For all she knew, they were right next to her.
A hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. Emma jumped and cried out. She was yanked to her knees and dragged farther into the neighbors’ yard. Her palms hit hard, sharp gravel. Tears came to her eyes. Her foot throbbed in pain. Her nose twitched with the sharp smell of a cigarette. She stared at the dark figure in front of her, expecting to see Charlotte’s angry face or Laurel’s searing gaze. “What are you doing?” a guy’s voice asked instead.
Emma blinked hard. “Ethan?” she whispered, her eyes adjusting. She could just make out Ethan’s shorn head and angular jaw. He held a cigarette between his fingers, the red tip glowing eerily in the darkness.
Ethan stubbed out his cigarette in the gravel and stared at Emma’s sweaty, harried face, her torn dress, her lack of shoes. “What the hell’s going on?”
“Sutton?” Madeline called out at the same time. She was right next to them, separated only by the block wall. “Where are you?”
Emma grasped Ethan’s hand hard. “Can you get me out of here? Now?”
“What?”
“Please,” Emma whispered desperately, clasping Ethan’s hands. “Can you help me or not?”
He stared at her. A look Emma couldn’t quite discern flashed over his eyes. He nodded. “My car’s a couple houses down.” Hand in hand, they slipped into the darkness.
I only hoped he could get her away before they caught her.
Chapter 30
SOMEONE KNOWS . . .
Ethan led Emma to an old red Honda Civic hatchback with a gray door and a crack in the windshield. The inside smelled like McDonald’s and old shoes, and the passenger seat was littered with textbooks and papers. Emma swept them aside and belted herself in. Ethan swung behind the wheel. Swiveling around, Emma saw Laurel standing at the edge of the driveway, looking right and left.
The stereo blared as soon as Ethan turned the ignition. It was a fast, raging song, and Ethan dove quickly for the dial and snapped it off. The wheel squeaked as he maneuvered into the street and drove away. Emma’s nails pressed hard into her thighs. She watched the Mercer house grow smaller and smaller in the side mirror until it was no longer visible.
“What’s this all about?” Ethan’s low voice pierced the silence.
“It’s hard to explain,” Emma answered.
They passed the park where she and Ethan had played tennis. Big floodlights illuminated one of the courts, but no one was there. Next they drove past the complex that contained the nail salon where she and Laurel had gotten manicures. Then La Encantada, where she and Madeline had shopped. The road for Hollier curved to the left; a big one-armed cactus pointed the way.
“Where are we going?” Ethan asked.
Emma slumped down in the seat. Where could she go? What about the police? Would they believe her now? Could she get them to search Laurel’s room and find the video?
Then she took a deep breath. “The bus station down-town.”
Ethan’s eyebrows did a quick lift-and-drop. “The one near Hotel Congress?”
“Yep.”
“You taking a trip?”
Emma hugged her chest. “Something like that.”
He nodded toward her feet. “Without shoes?”
“I’ll figure it out.”
Ethan gave her a strange look, then took a left turn at the next intersection and merged onto the highway. It was sparse at this time of night, the concrete lanes empty far into the distance. Neon signs for highway businesses peppered the drive. GREAT DANE TRUCKING. MOTEL SIX. A tall cowboy hat for Arby’s. Lights glittered on the mountain. A helicopter zoomed overhead.
“Can I ask why you’re fleeing your own party?” Ethan asked as he veered off the highway at an exit.
Emma leaned her head against the seat. “I just need to . . . go. It’s too crazy to explain.”
The light turned green, and he made a left at an intersection. They drove in silence for a while on a dark, hilly road. For a few minutes, there wasn’t a single light anywhere. No cars passed them going the other direction. No houses loomed at the curbs. Emma frowned and glanced at the receding highway behind her. The city lights were all in the other direction. “I think you took a wrong turn.”
“No, I didn’t.”