Deep Betrayal

crusted pepperoni.
    Jack sat across the table from Gabby and me and chewedon his straw. Mr. Pettit was making Gabby keep tabs on her brother, so Gabby insisted I come along. It had been two days since I’d found Jack bound and bleeding outside Marsden’s barn, and neither he nor I had spoken of it. In fact, we hadn’t said much of anything at all. I stayed true to my promise, and Gabby was still in the dark. She attributed my silence to not wanting to be seen with Jack in public. She got that; she’d written the book on it.
    I picked at my half-eaten slice and peeled off the cheese like the sole from a leather shoe.
    “So,” Gabby said. Neither I nor Jack expected her to say anything more, and we didn’t do anything to help the conversation along.
    In the booth behind me and Gabby, a young family was finally seated. They corralled the littlest kid into a wooden high-chair and sighed in exasperation at the other two. “No,” said the mom. “For the last time, we’re not going swimming today.”
    “But it’s hot,” whined one of the kids.
    Gabby reached over me and picked up the bill. She dug in her purse and said, “Seven bucks each, cough it up.”
    “Too dangerous,” said the dad behind me, and Jack and I made eye contact for the first time that day.
    I pushed my plate to the edge of the table as the waitress came over to check on us again. My phone vibrated. It was Jules.
    JULES: Guess what?
    I threw a five and eight quarters on the table and texted: What?
    JULES: Phillip’s uncle has a cabin on Madeline Island.
    LILY: And?
    The mom behind me responded, “Rip currents, honey. There’s been another drowning. A big boy. And if it’s too dangerous for big boys, it’s too dangerous for you.”
    I watched Jack as the two conversations enfolded around me. His eyes hardened, glistening in the ambient light. For a second, I thought he was going to cry in public, and I desperately hoped he wouldn’t because that would send Gabby over the edge, but then I realized I misread him. When the dad whispered to the mom, but loud enough for us to hear, “Rip currents, my ass,” the corners of Jack’s mouth twitched, and he guzzled back the rest of his Mountain Dew.
    JULES: He’s letting us use the cabin for a week. We’re coming up to visit you!
    I hastily texted back to Jules: Who is we?
    When the waitress returned to collect our pile of money, I asked her if she’d heard anything about another drowning.
    “Yeah,” she said, lowering her voice. “Didn’t you?”
    Jack leaned across the table toward me. “Told you,” he said, then to the waitress, “Tourist?”
    “What’s this?” Gabby asked.
    “Did you know Brady Peterman?” the waitress asked solemnly. “A little kid found his body in the rocks under the fishing pier this morning.”
    I looked at Jack, and his face was ashen.
    “The police are calling it an accident, but a lot of people are talking like they’re not so sure,” said the waitress.
    JULES: All of us. Me Rob Phillip Zach Colleen Scott. I got a new suit!!!
    I tried to swallow, but my throat was too tight. It would be hard to muster up tears for Brady. A little malicious corner of my heart almost hoped “smug arrogance” had been a satisfying, emotional meal for Maris. I was pretty sure that was the best Brady Peterman had to offer.
    But Jules’s last message, and the thought of my friends being on the lake, eradicated any sadistic feeling that justice had been served. Instead, fear coiled in my belly like a little black eel.
    “What are people saying?” Gabby asked.
    The waitress looked surreptitiously at her manager and let a single word slip: “Murder.”
    Jack, Gabby, and I ran outside and down the street toward the lake. A flimsy yellow line of police tape fluttered in the breeze and did its best to barricade the fishing pier. Jack grabbed my elbow and pulled me and Gabby toward the park.
    “I want to get a better look,” he said.
    “There won’t be anything to see,” Gabby said. “Besides, it creeps me out. I can’t ever remember a summer like this. I’m thinking about moving to Kansas. There’s no water there, right?”
    “They won’t let this one go by without some kind ofsearch,” Jack said, breathing hard as he pulled us along. “People knew Brady. They’re going to listen now.” Then he put his mouth to my hair. His hot breath brushed my earlobe. “You tell Calder White the clock is ticking.”
    Jack ducked under the yellow tape. Gabby refused