Murdered at 17 Read online

  “Big date?” the woman asked.

  “Yep,” Brooke said, using her compact to see the back of her hair.

  “Don’t worry about it. You look great.” Brooke smiled, surprised by the compliment.

  “Thank you,” she said and watched in the mirror as the woman disappeared out the door. Hopefully, Jake would think the same thing.

  This is it, Brooke thought as a tuxedo-clad valet opened the door of Brooke’s Toyota. She got out and handed him her blue-and-white key chain with Bellamy High’s mascot on it—a roaring jaguar. Her mom had given her the key chain the day they came home with the car.

  Brooke spotted Jake’s Ferrari parked in front, backed into its space in the row with all the other luxury cars. Happy that he was already there, she checked her phone to be sure she wasn’t late, and walked up the stone steps past the twinkling gas lamps and gigantic potted cypress trees to the grandiose entrance of Wally’s on Main.

  Jake was sitting on a stool by the bar, sipping a martini. He was wearing a suit, his hair was slicked back, and he had an air of sophistication she hadn’t really noticed before. For the first time ever, Brooke felt like she was on a real date—a grown-up date. Not pizza parlors and burger joints and mall food court dates like the ones she was used to with high school guys, but a real, let’s-be-adults, money-is-no-object kind of date.

  “Can I help you?” the hostess asked.

  “I see my date right over there,” Brooke said and maneuvered her way through the throng of people to Jake. She put her slender hand on his shoulder.

  “I’m usually the early one,” she said as he turned around and smiled.

  “Wow, you look incredible,” he said without taking his gaze from her face.

  “So do you.” All the other bar stools were occupied, so Jake stood up and let her take his seat. He leaned in close behind her as he slid his half-drank martini over and Brooke caught a faint whiff of his cologne. It was musky and spicy and it made her want to nuzzle her face against his chest and breathe in that scent forever.

  “What would you like to drink?” he asked softly. Brooke could feel his warm hand on her bare arm.

  “I don’t know. Should I try something new?”

  “Can I order for you?”

  Brooke nodded. She liked that Jake was willing to the take the lead whether it came to kissing her in his car or buying her a drink. This is the type of guy who’s not scared to go after what he wants, she thought. Sexy.

  “I’ll take another extra-dirty martini and she’ll have a Midori sour.” The bartender nodded and pulled a bottle of bright green liqueur from the shelf behind him.

  “What’s a Midori sour?” Brooke asked. It sounded exotic.

  “It’s Midori—that green stuff that tastes like cantaloupe sort of—and sour, which is kind of like lime juice but sweet. It’s good. I think you’ll like it.”

  Brooke nodded and watched as the bartender stabbed a row of maraschino cherries onto an itty-bitty plastic sword and dropped it in her drink. Then he went on to make Jake’s. He’s so smart, she thought as Jake slid her glass over to her. He knows so much about everything. Brooke had never heard of that drink before. She’d never even sat at a bar. And here she was, sidled up next to the most polite, attractive, fun guy she’d ever met, sipping cocktails with a bunch of rich people in one of the most bougy restaurants in the city. She felt special and important.

  Jake held up his glass and clinked with hers. “To chance meetings at karaoke bars.”

  She swirled the straw around in her glass and took a sip of the fizzy emerald-colored cocktail.

  “How is it?” he asked. “If you don’t like it, we can order something else.”

  “I love it. It’s my new favorite drink.”

  Jake smiled and asked the bartender to close his tab. Once he’d signed, he led Brooke, drinks in hand, through the crowd to the hostess, who sat them at a corner table. Brooke settled in and then looked out at the placid Schuylkill River.

  “This place is really amazing,” she said, unfolding her napkin and placing it gently on her lap.

  He nodded. “My first time here.”

  “Lucky me. I’m the first one you’ve ever brought here.” She was flirting shamelessly but it was fun. And Jake didn’t seem to mind.

  “You say that like you think I’ve had a lot of dates.” He pointed a finger at her playfully and sipped his cocktail.

  “I do think that. You pretty much have everything most girls are looking for.” Normally, Brooke wouldn’t have said something so complimentary at the risk of feeding the male ego, but Jake was different. She didn’t get the impression it would go to his head.

  “Well, thank you for that. I’m glad you think so.” He set his glass down and fixed his gaze on her.

  “So. What type of girls do you usually see?” Brooke asked, still intrigued that someone so perfect could be single.

  “The kind I only date once.” Jake gave her a frustrated look. “It’s been really hard to find someone I connect with.”

  “I know how you feel.” Brooke had the same problem. With cheer practice and school, she hadn’t had much time to date. But when she did, she just always felt something was missing. She’d get home from the date not really caring if she ever went out with him again. This was different, though. Sitting here with Jake, this was the first time she felt like she didn’t want to be anywhere else but here. She was completely in the moment and she felt that chemistry people mention when they reminisce about how they fell in love. “I think I get you.”

  “You definitely do,” Jake assured her with a smile. “I knew that as soon as I started talking to you the other night.” She smiled. “Let’s figure out what we want to eat.”

  Brooke scanned the menu for a pescatarian option. She’d given up eating all meat except fish about six months earlier, after she and Maddie had watched a horrifying documentary on slaughterhouses and how cows and chickens were mistreated. Maddie, sure she’d fail if forced to give up sweet and sour chicken, had only given up beef and pork.

  “I think I’ll have the wild-caught mahi-mahi,” she said and closed her menu.

  “Good choice,” Jake murmured. “Me too.”

  Brooke sipped her drink, unsure what to say next.

  “So, can I ask you an uncomfortable question?” Jake asked, adjusting the napkin on his lap.

  “Those are my favorite kind,” Brooke responded sarcastically, hoping he wasn’t going to suddenly turn into a weirdo or something. What uncomfortable question did he have?

  “You’re not embarrassed by me, are you? Is that why you didn’t want me to pick you up at your house?”

  “God no,” Brooke retorted quickly. How could she possibly be embarrassed by someone so charming and attractive? She didn’t want him to think that. Unfortunately, explaining meant telling him about her mother. “It’s just that my mom asks a million questions. She’s been really overprotective since my accident. It gets old. When she saw you drop me off the other night, I told her you were a friend of Keisha’s so she wouldn’t think I accepted a ride with someone I just met.”

  Brooke picked at a loose thread on the napkin, hoping he wouldn’t take issue with the story she’d invented.

  “Ah.” Jake seemed relieved. “I know how to put an end to that.”

  “How?”

  “Invite me over and I’ll answer all her questions so you won’t have to.” The gesture was sweet, but dealing with her mom wasn’t as simple as he believed. Brooke knew for a fact that if her mother met Jake, she’d end up answering way more of her mother’s questions than she cared to. If the relationship progressed—which Brooke hoped it would—she’d figure it out. But she didn’t want to get ahead of herself. First, she wanted to make sure the guy with the dirty-blond hair and brown eyes who sat in front of her wasn’t too good to be true.

  The server came to the table and they ordered their food. After she left, Jake returned his gaze to Brooke.

  “Can I ask you a question
now?” she asked.

  “Of course.”

  “You said you don’t go back to Kansas because you don’t like your family, but you didn’t tell me why.” Since they were on the topic of mothers, it didn’t seem too awkward to ask. His refusal to go back and see his parents had bugged her since that night and she was curious what they could have done that would’ve pissed him off so badly.

  “What’s your question exactly?” He downed the last of his martini and pushed the glass away. Hadn’t she just asked it? It was clearly a touchy subject for him, so she decided to rephrase.

  “Why don’t you like them?”

  A darkness seemed to come over Jake and his smile disappeared so completely that Brooke wondered if she’d made a mistake by inquiring.

  “That’s not a story you want to hear,” he said flatly.

  “Or is it one you don’t want to tell?” Brooke wasn’t trying to dare him or goad him in any way. But she’d told him about her disorder, which was risky and embarrassing on the first night they’d met. She wanted to know that he could take that risk for her as well.

  “If I tell you the things my parents did to me, it’ll ruin our evening.” Brooke could see the tension in his jaw. His whole body seemed to tighten. She didn’t know what to say. “I’ll tell you when the time is right, okay? Trust me. I don’t want to ever keep a secret from you, so it’s not that. Just not right now.”

  “Sure, okay,” Brooke said softly, deciding to let the subject drop.

  “Let’s talk about something else.”

  She nodded, but couldn’t rein in her thoughts. She wanted to know what could have happened to him as a child that was so horrible. But she didn’t press.

  “Let’s talk about . . .” She paused, trying to think of something. “San Francisco. Where did you live when you were out there?”

  “Menlo Park, which is on the peninsula. I lived there for two months.”

  “I’d love to go back there someday.”

  “Let’s do it. Next weekend.”

  Brooke wasn’t sure she’d heard him right.

  “You mean just . . . fly to San Francisco?” A surge of excitement shot through her. She’d never had anyone suggest they simply fly across the country for the weekend before. It seemed like something a person just throws out there to say like “Someday, when I win the lottery, I’ll buy a beach house” or “I’d like to go to Spain and run with the bulls.” Stuff they never ended up doing. But Jake sounded serious.

  “Why not? Get a hotel near Union Square, visit Haight-Ashbury, eat clam chowder on the wharf, walk through Alcatraz. We can do all the silly touristy stuff. It’ll be fun.”

  “I don’t think my mom will let me,” Brooke said, knowing in her heart there was no way her mother, who had required a thesis on every single thing she did since she was released from the hospital after her accident, would let her jet off to a city three thousand miles away with a guy she’d just met a week and a half before. That was out of the question.

  “She can come too. So can her boyfriend. Alex, right?” Brooke raised an eyebrow, stunned. “It won’t cost them a penny. I’ll pay for their flights and room and everything.” He can’t be serious, she thought. Then she remembered that he had money—a lot of money. So that wasn’t a problem for him. But did he want to hang out with her so badly that he’d ignore the fact that her mother and Alex would be following them around everywhere they went? Damn, she wanted to go to San Francisco, though. And she wanted to go with him.

  She pictured them wrapped in cozy sweaters, hopping off one of the candy-apple red trolley cars and walking down to the wharf. They’d sip hot chocolate and look out at the Golden Gate Bridge peeking through the fog. He’d take her face in his hands and kiss her. How amazing would that be? “I’m going to run to the bathroom before our food comes, okay?” Jake said and stood up.

  “Sure,” Brooke said, smiling at him.

  “Think about the trip. We could leave on Friday morning and take the red-eye back Sunday night.” Jake placed his napkin on his chair and walked toward the lobby. As she watched him snake his way through the tables, she heard a familiar voice.

  “Brooke.” Brooke turned to see Tryg walking toward her with a tray under his arm. Her heart stopped.

  “Tryg?” He set the tray down on a dirty table nearby and wiped his hands on the black apron tied around his waist. “What are you doing here?”

  “I just started busing about a month ago.” She caught his gaze falling to her tight black dress. “I hit you up the other night. Did you get my text?” Oh, yes, the infamous text at the karaoke bar that sent Maddie into a frenzy. How could she forget?

  “I got it. Did you need something?” Brooke asked coolly. There was no warmth for Tryg. He was a dick to Maddie when they were dating and now he was trying to wedge his way into her life while she was on a date with someone else? He’s got no respect for anyone, she thought.

  He said casually, “Just wanted to see what you were up to. Thought maybe we could hang out sometime.”

  Oh my god, he’s really asking me out right now. Is he for real? Brooke was about to lay into Tryg and call him every name that was bolting through her head, but before she could launch into her tirade—

  “Is everything okay here?” It was Jake. He must’ve seen Tryg approach the table and had turned around and come back. Now he was standing protectively next to Brooke. She instantly felt more at ease. If Jake wanted to handle this and put Tryg in his place, she was more than willing to let him.

  “We know each other from school, man. I was just saying hi,” Tryg said semi-defensively. Although Tryg was at least three inches taller, Brooke could tell he was intimidated by Jake. Jake had a stronger presence and a tougher build.

  Jake had just switched something on that put Brooke on edge. A don’t-even-think-about-fucking-with-me vibe that she hadn’t seen before. She could tell Tryg sensed it too.

  “Then save your chitchat for recess,” Jake warned.

  Tryg looked down at her, but she was watching Jake. He never took his eyes off Tryg. He didn’t even blink. Tryg! Please just walk away from this before you start a scene, Brooke silently pleaded. The last thing she wanted was to ruin this perfect date. She wasn’t sure what would go down, but Jake had already told her he knew how to cut right to the jugular and there was no doubt in her mind Tryg was out of his league. The telepathy must’ve worked because Tryg backed down.

  “Yeah, no problem. My bad. Enjoy your dinner. I’ll see you at school, Brooke.” Tryg whipped around and began piling the tray with dirty dishes at hyper-speed. Glancing over at Jake, Brooke noticed that the eerie look in his eyes had melted away as quickly as it had come.

  “Okay, now I really need to pee,” Jake whispered with a smile. Brooke grinned and saw Jake make a point of giving Tryg a nasty look behind his back for Brooke’s benefit as he darted off to the lobby again. Brooke laughed.

  Jake’s complicated, she thought. He could flow from sophisticated and gentlemanly to silly and juvenile to unnerving without a beat in between. Whatever, she thought. It worked. Brooke was pretty sure Tryg got the hint and wouldn’t bother asking her out again. Hopefully, news that her soon-to-be new boyfriend told Tryg off would get back to Maddie. Brooke smiled. This was technically their first date. It was too soon to label them a couple, but if things worked out the way Brooke hoped, Jake would be referring to her as his girlfriend soon.

  The server brought their food as Jake was returning from the bathroom. “This looks too good to actually consume,” Brooke said, hoping to divert Jake’s thoughts from Tryg to something more positive.

  “It definitely smells good,” Jake agreed and scooted his chair back up to the table. As Brooke dug her fork into the creamy mass of potatoes, she spotted Tryg across the room, busing a table. Jake must’ve noticed.

  “You didn’t mind me stepping in and saying something to that guy, did you?” he asked. “It was pretty rude for him to come over and hit on you the moment I got up.”


  “That’s Maddie’s ex,” Brooke said in a low voice.

  “The one you guys fought about at the bar?” he asked, perplexed.

  She could see Jake was putting the pieces together. “Exactly. And he is rude. He used to wait for her to walk away at a party and then go hit on other girls. I can’t stand him.” Casting a glance at Tryg, Jake nodded.

  “Guys like that are insecure. If I’m with a girl, she’s the only thing that has my attention. I don’t even look at my phone.” He made a point of staring right at her as he lifted his fork to his mouth, pretending to be unaware the bite of fish had slid off and fallen back onto his plate. Brooke laughed. She loved the silliness he could bring to serious situations. And she loved that he was annoyed by guys like Tryg as much as she was.

  “Let’s forget about him and focus on our perfect dinner,” he continued.

  “I agree,” she said. “By the way, this is the best date I’ve been on in a long time. Maybe ever.”

  “Me too,” he said.

  The night went by too quickly for Brooke. “I wish I could start the whole night over and live it again,” she said whimsically as they waited by the valet stand for their cars to come. Jake took her hand, lacing her fingers in his.

  “What would you do differently?”

  “Not a thing,” she said and looked into his eyes, hoping he’d kiss her. Jake picked up on her cue and planted a soft, slow kiss on her lips. It sent that familiar wave of excitement through Brooke that she’d felt in his car. If it weren’t so late she’d suggest going for a drive, maybe stop at the park and sit together on the top of the slide, where they could keep each other warm and gaze up at the stars. Next time . . .

  Jake had made sure her car would arrive first by handing the valet her slip before his. When the tuxedo-clad attendant arrived with her car, Jake tipped him and opened her door.