Light as a Feather, Silent as the Grave

Chapter 7

"I'll tell you everything, we just need to go someplace more private. And whatever you do, don't say my name."

I was still too surprised to be looking into Trey's blue eyes at the airport newsstand to even react. In a rapid series of observations, I processed information based on his appearance: he had a fading black eye, a purple bruise that was yellowing which encircled his left eye and spread across his cheekbone.  His face looked more chiseled than it had the last time I'd seen him, which meant that he hadn't been eating enough at his school. The sprinkling of dark scruff covering his upper lip and chin suggested that he hadn't shaved in a few days; it was the closest he got to being able to grow a mustache and beard. Instantly I became aware of the police presence in the airport. It didn't seem to be heightened, but I had definitely noticed at least two uniformed cops roaming the terminal since I'd passed through security.

Without saying a word, I nodded, and I kept my head down as Trey led me away from my departing gate and toward a quiet gate at the other end of the short terminal. The airport in Green Bay was significantly smaller than the airport in Tampa, which left us few options in the way of semi-private places to talk. My heart thumped as if it was going to explode right through the front of my chest, and even though I knew I was probably being excessively paranoid, it felt like a thousand sets of eyes followed us as we moved through the crowd of parents tugging rolling suitcases and businessman carrying shoulder bags. We chose vinyl chairs that were positioned partially behind a pillar so that our presence in the almost otherwise empty seating area was less likely to attract attention. As we plunked down across from each other, Trey took my hands in his and smiled with pure joy.

"I can't believe I'm finally actually looking at you," he said in a hoarse voice.

"Trey." I couldn't begin to imagine what had happened to him back at Northern Reserve to have put him in such an emotional state, or to have resulted in such painful-looking bruises. "What are you doing here? The cops came to my house and were asking me all these questions."

Trey shook his head, obviously dismayed to hear this. "Crap. I didn't think they'd take it that seriously."

"Of course they're taking it seriously. Your picture was on the news. They're saying you might be dangerous if approached!" I wanted to be supportive and understanding, but my words were coming out all wrong. Instead of sounding concerned for him, I sounded angry. I squeezed his hands to reassure him that I was on his side. "They took my cell phone. You haven't texted me at all in the last two days, have you?"

"No. I figured that would put you in a bad position."

I breathed a sigh of relief, but only one. Maybe the cops weren't zeroing in on us at that very moment because they hadn't been able to intercept any text messages... but Trey still might have been followed on his way to the airport. "What happened? Why did you break out of school? And what happened to your face?" On an impulse I reached out to lightly touch the bruise on the left side of his face and he shrank from my fingers.

Trey let go of my hands and leaned back in his chair as if he wasn't sure where to start his explanation. "I can't stay at that place," he said in a low voice. "I don't know if he's trying to get them to kill me, or frame me for some kind of crime that'll get me transferred to prison in July instead of being released. It's one or the other, or maybe he doesn't even care as long as I'm out of the picture."

My mom's words about Trey having all kinds of problems that I couldn't fix echoed in the space between my ears. He sounded crazy, not unlike Candace had sounded after Olivia's death. "What do you mean? Who's trying to get you killed?"

Trey blinked away hot tears of anger and looked up at the ceiling. "Michael Simmons, Violet's father. My father, I guess."

A chill ran through me. The image of Violet waiting for me in the frozen food aisle of the grocery store with those folded-up notes in her palm flashed before my eyes. Somehow, her insistence that Trey sue for his half of the inheritance had to do with Trey's claim that her father was trying to kill him. I knew Violet was up to something.