The Vanishing Stair (Truly Devious, #2)(30)

As if on cue, the door to the yurt flapped open, and David entered. David had a way of walking—a way that suggested that he belonged anywhere he went. In this, he had his father’s manner, which was gross and horrific. But there was something else, something of the rake in a casino movie, who has come in to knock the place over, or an entertainer who might at any point somersault into the center of the room.

Or maybe he was just walking in and her brain chemistry was telling her stories.

He had changed his clothes and was now wearing jeans and a formfitting black sweater, which complemented his dark curls and made the musculature of his arms and chest clear. He smiled at her and Germaine, then went over to Janelle and Vi. Mudge and Nate had gone to examine some of the board games on the shelves.

“A friend’s phone?” Germaine said again.

“Yeah,” Stevie said, getting up. “I don’t think so.”

“Maybe worth finding out?” Germaine called to her as she rejoined her housemates.

David was leaning on the back of the futon, talking to Janelle and Vi. Janelle had her face tipped up toward him, an expression of dull patience on her face. Vi’s arms were crossed. They did not look impressed.

“I’m on house arrest,” he said. “No trips to Burlington for me.”

“Seriously?” Janelle replied.

“I know,” he said. “I don’t think they can do that.”

“No,” she said, “that’s it?”

“Isn’t that enough?” he said. “I didn’t even do anything.”

“Yes, you did,” Vi said. “Everyone knows you did.”

“Am I the squirrel whisperer?”

“It’s not cool,” Vi said. “You’ve been waking people up, you’re damaging stuff we like, that we use. We all have issues, dude. Get over yourself.”

“I thought learning was a game,” David said. “Why is no one having fun but me?”

Vi shook their head and took Janelle’s hand. The two of them stood up.

“I’ll see you at home,” Janelle said, and it was pointedly to Stevie only.

“Sometimes I don’t think people like me,” David said, watching them go.

“You know why,” she said.

“A return to responsibility,” he said, lifting his eyebrows rakishly. “You know who loves that?”

“A lot of people,” Stevie said. “Just because . . .”

It seemed too dangerous to say your dad out loud. Stevie could feel Germaine’s eyes on them, boring into the back of her head.

“I think I might go too,” she said. “Want to come?”

“Sure,” he said. “Why not?”

Germaine kept her head down as they passed, but Stevie saw her stealing a sideways glance at them.

“It was only, like, forty squirrels,” David said when they were outside.

“How did you even get forty squirrels?”

“No magician reveals his secrets,” he said. “You didn’t find anything else, did you?”

His change of conversation was so sudden that Stevie lost the thread for a second.

“Look,” Stevie said. “What are you suggesting happened to Ellie? You’re saying you don’t think she could have made it out? So you think she’s here?”

“I’m saying . . .” He lowered his voice. “I don’t see how she made it away from here that night, or the next few days. I don’t know how she got out.”

“But let’s say she did, because that’s probably what happened,” Stevie said. “Do you know where she’d go?”

“She could have gone anywhere,” he said. “Ellie grew up on a commune, she lived in France. I guess she’s in a . . . I don’t know, in a café basement in Berlin or something.”

“Kind of hard for her to get out of the country.”

“Okay. So . . . in an Airstream trailer in Austin selling designer tacos or a tree house in Oregon . . .”

“I get the idea,” Stevie said. “She’s not from anywhere, so if she’s nowhere, it’s like she’s home.”

David regarded her for a moment.

“Right,” he said. “If she’s nowhere, she’s home. Yeah.”

“Or she can just be in someone’s apartment in Burlington,” Stevie said.

“I think she would want to get out. If she could get to Burlington she could get in someone’s car and go. I don’t think she’d stick around.”

“But why run?” Stevie said. “Why run if you did nothing?”

“Fear,” David said.

“Of what?”

“Of being accused of murder.”

“I never said she did it,” Stevie shot back. “I said she wrote the script for The End of It All and took Hayes’s computer, which she did.”

“I know,” he said. “I know. Calm down.”

“Do not tell me to calm down,” Stevie replied. “I’m the one who started this. I know what I’m saying. It’s just . . . if not her . . .”

“Look,” David said. “Maybe . . . maybe he did take the dry ice? Maybe Beth Brave was wrong about when she thought they were talking?”