Page 45 of Dead Girls Can't Tell Secrets

“Oh, I see it now,” Noah says, leaning over the top rail to get a better view. “What is that?”

“I don’t know, but I might be able to reach it.” Jacey stretches her neck out for another moment, and then ducks beneath the bars.

“Whoa, whoa. Hold on,” Noah says, clutching her wrist. “We should probably be getting back. You taking a spill down the mountainside right now wouldn’t be very timely for a couple of reasons. We’ll tell the cops to scour the area.”

Tell the cops? So Noah doesn’t know what she’s up to. Jacey’s dragging him along on her criminally motivated ride. He thinks she’s trying to help when she’s actually trying to bury whatever’s down there.

“We can’t rely on the cops,” she says. “Grab my ankles.” She inches out onto the ledge. “I think I can get to it without your help, if you’re going to act so worried.”

“You got me, I’m worried.”

But she isn’t listening. Instead, she’s scooting over the sharp rocks that extend out over the slope. “Wait, Jace.”

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” She hooks the toes of her sneakers over the bottom rail, and Noah clasps his hands around her ankles as she flattens her body and reaches.

“Please be careful.” The frazzled edge to Noah’s words slashes through the cold morning air.

Jacey keeps wriggling until she’s dangling over the cliff. My heart thumps. Alexandra’s hand clamps on to the back of my arm, her nails digging through my jacket. “Savannah,” she hisses, “we should—”

I shake her off me, training my gaze on the cliff.

“Jacey,” Noah begs now, “forget it. It’s probably just trash some hiker tossed over the edge.” But she keeps reaching.

Noah manages only a “Wai—” as her ankle slides from his grip.

Chapter 19

Jacey’s shriek tears through the dawn. Her body starts to plummet off the ledge. Before I can move, a dark blur flies past us, headed for the cliff.

Tyler.

Alexandra and I follow, close enough to taste the dirt his frantic footsteps kick up. When I reach the rail, Noah has the heel of Jacey’s sneaker in his fingertips.

Barely.

Tyler sinks down beside Noah, attempting to get a better hold on some part of Jacey. But the ledge drops off so abruptly, he can’t reach her without risking his own fall.

He takes the risk, inching forward under the railing, using only his feet to grip the rocks as he stretches. “Be careful!” I shout, slipping under the guardrail and diving for his boot. I pull just as he clutches Jacey’s ankle in one hand. Alexandra grabs his other boot.

“I got her!” Tyler yells. “Noah, let go and help us up!”

Noah’s entire body is shaking, but it’s like he can’t hear us.

“Noah!” I scream, my own hands trembling, my grip on Tyler slipping. “Let go! We have her!” But Tyler’s boot skids, crushing my finger against a rock. I grunt as the sharp pain rushes through my hand.

Noah’s head turns suddenly, like he’s come out of a trance. He releases his minuscule grasp on Jacey’s sneaker, stumbles, then pulls Tyler’s other ankle. The rest of us keep tugging on Tyler until he’s on secure enough ground for Noah to reach for Jacey.

They heft her up the rest of the way, her body bobbing against the rocks like a rag doll. Noah drags her to safety, and she sinks into his arms. Her face is scraped and bleeding, dirt embedded in the wounds.

Tyler, breathing heavily, glances from Noah to Jacey. “What were you doing?”

Noah’s eyes slant beneath crooked frames. “She said she saw something down there.”

“Yeah,” I mutter, noting that Jacey’s fist is balled tightly at her side. “Evidence.”

I shuffle a little closer, afraid to touch the cold metal bars. Like they were responsible for what happened to Piper, like the rail somehow gave way. I hover inches behind it, peering out to where brambles and a rainbow of alpine wildflowers sprout on the face of the mountain below the rock formations. The sun is higher now, bathing the canyon in a warm pink glow.

A gust of wind whips through my ponytail, and I flinch. I back away from the railing, as if that breeze could send me tumbling down the mountainside like my sister did. Then I remember my pulsing finger. The nail is cracked beneath smeared blood.

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