“Just go tell everybody at Baxley’s,” Jeff said. “They’ll know what to do.”
The cops nodded and began to walk toward their squad car.
“What kind of car was it?” Teddy called, suddenly alert and in control again. His voice was steady. “The car that hit her. What kind of car was it?”
“White car,” said the cop who’d comforted Teddy. “Witness was too far off to note make or model. Said it was like a flash of white, and then it was gone.”
Teddy’s face hardened.
“Thank you, Officer,” he said tightly.
The other officer glanced back at him. “Hey, aren’t you the kid from, what was that show. . . ?”
Teddy smiled his gleaming white smile.
“Oh, Those Masons!” he said. “Yes, I am.”
The cops looked impressed.
“Great show,” said the one who’d recognized him. “Used to love that one.”
“Thanks,” Teddy said.
The officers waved goodbye and drove off. Teddy turned to us, his expression darkening.
“A white car,” he snapped. “Now, who do we know who has a white car?”
I couldn’t stand it anymore.
“You think it was Jacinta?” I burst out, my voice louder than I’d intended. “So everything’s her fault now? Just because she stole one of your girlfriends doesn’t mean she killed someone.” For about a thousand reasons, I was livid. I wanted to smash his stupid handsome face in.
Teddy glared at me, and for a moment I thought he might hit me. Instinctively, I backed up.
Jeff stepped between us and put his hand on Teddy’s shoulder.
“Hey, man,” he said softly. “Hey. Just breathe. She didn’t know what she was saying. Let’s all just breathe for a minute.” Wordlessly, Teddy turned around and walked back to his car.
The drive to Delilah’s was completely silent. When we parked in the driveway, we all got out of the car. Teddy turned to face us. He was smiling.
“Want to come in for a drink?” he asked, as if nothing had happened. “Jeff? Naomi?”
Creeped out by yet another one of his rapid mood changes, I shook my head no. He looked at me curiously.
“Aww, c’mon,” Teddy said, patting me on the back. I shrank from his touch.
“No, thank you,” I said stiffly.
Teddy shrugged, waved goodbye, and walked into the house. Jeff looked at me.
“What are you going to do, just sit out here?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “I’m going home.”
“How? I’m not good to drive yet.”
“Well, neither was Teddy, and we got home all right.”
“Just wait an hour,” Jeff said. “I’ll drink a club soda. I just don’t want to get a DUI.”
“I’m calling a cab,” I said, and turned to walk away. Jeff grabbed my arm and spun me back around. I jerked my arm out of his grasp.
“Don’t touch me,” I said coldly.
“What the hell happened?” he demanded. “Everything was fine and now you’re pissed at me? Let’s just go have a drink!”
I stared at him and realized he just didn’t get it. He didn’t understand why it was disgusting and awful to witness what we had witnessed—at the restaurant, and especially after—and just have a drink in some rich girl’s mansion as if everything were normal.
Without another word, I walked off, leaving him standing in the driveway, looking frustrated.
Delilah’s driveway was a long one, and gated—probably a quarter mile long. I’d gotten halfway down the driveway when I heard a rustling and a whisper from the bushes.
“Naomi! Naomi, over here.”
I nearly jumped out of my skin. Jacinta quickly stepped out of the bushes.
“Jesus, Jacinta. You scared the hell out of me.” I put my hand over my heart and took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking the leaves from her dress. “It’s just—I can’t leave Delilah alone. I have to make sure she’s okay.”
“So you’re hiding in the bushes.”
“I need to wait a little while before I drive home.”
“So where’s your car parked?”
“Not far from here,” she said uneasily, digging the toe of her pricey shoe into the ground. “Near the property. We ran into some trouble on the road on the way in, so we put the car someplace safe and walked the rest of the way.”
My heart sank.
“Ran into some trouble,” I said.
“Yes.”
“You mean you hit somebody.”
Jacinta looked ashamed. She was quiet for a moment.
“She was scared,” she finally said. “She’d been drinking and crying, and it was hard for her to see.”
“Who? Misti?” I asked.
She looked at me in confusion.
“No,” Jacinta said. “Delilah.”
“Delilah hit Misti?”
“No, Delilah was driving and—”
“But you drove away from Baxley’s.”
“Delilah said driving would help her calm down. We pulled over and switched seats, and then she went really fast, and then. . .” Jacinta stopped and twisted her hands together.
“It wasn’t her fault,” she said. “The bike came out of nowhere.”
“Misti’s bike,” I said. “Delilah hit Misti.”
Jacinta’s jaw dropped, and her enormous green eyes grew even bigger. She covered her mouth with her milky white hand.
“We saw them loading her into an ambulance,” I said. “Half her face was gone.”
“Jesus Christ,” Jacinta whispered. “We never saw who it was. . . oh, this is bad for Delilah. Oh God, this is bad for Delilah.”
“Bad for Delilah?” I wanted to smack her, almost the way I’d wanted to hit Teddy earlier. “Misti might die, Jacinta. Adriana. Whatever your name is. Somebody might die.”
Jacinta’s eyes lit up with strange hope. “But she’s not dead yet?” she asked feverishly. “She isn’t dead?”
I could’ve strangled her.
“No,” I said. “The cop said she’s alive. But if you could’ve seen her face—”
Jacinta exhaled slowly and said, “As long as she’s alive. Then it’s not as bad.”
“It looked pretty bad,” I said. “And you need to tell the police.”
“The police?” She looked horrified. “Me?”
“Jacinta,” I said, speaking slowly, as if to a small child. “It was your car. Everybody saw you drive away—me, Teddy, Jeff, the valets. Not Delilah. You.”
“You don’t believe me?” she asked, sounding crushed.
“Of course I believe you! But who do you think they’re going to come looking for first?”
Jacinta shook her head vigorously. “Delilah will give herself up,” she said. “She’ll tell the truth. Her father will get a good lawyer, and she’ll tell the truth and no one will get in trouble. It was an accident.”
“Jacinta, Delilah was drunk.”
“She wasn’t that drunk,” Jacinta said defensively. “No one can prove she was drunk.”
“Giovanni knows how much she had to drink,” I said. “You really think he’s going to lie for the girl who almost killed his girlfriend?”
“I’ll say she wasn’t drunk,” Jacinta said. “I’ll say he’s lying and she wasn’t drunk and the bike came out of nowhere and she was scared and it was an accident and that’s all there was to it. That’s the truth.”
“That’s not the truth,” I said.
“Yes it is!” she nearly shouted. “That’s what I’ll tell them and they won’t know any different and that makes it the truth!”
I rubbed my temples. I was beginning to develop the kind of headache that usually only happened when I read a book while riding in a car.
“We should both go home,” I said. “I’m calling a cab.”