Page 17 of Games We Play (Thistle Cove 2)

“You were in the class of 1991, right?”

She gives me a tight smile, while taking lids off of a steaming hot dish of enchiladas. “Yes, I was.”

“Did you happen to remember a girl named Jacqueline Cates?”

I watch her expression. It doesn’t change, but she does drop the aluminum lid on the ground.

“Oops,” she says, bending to pick it up. She stands, brushing back a piece of honey-colored hair. “Who was that again?”

“Jacqueline Cates.”

“That name doesn’t ring a bell. Was she in my grade?”

“No, class of 1992—a year younger than you. She went missing spring of your senior year.”

She nods vaguely, continuing to unwrap food. “Right, yes. Right, God, that poor girl.”

“So you knew her.”

She looks up at me. “Oh no, not at all. She was younger, ran with another crowd, if I recall correctly, which, trust me, my brain is mush all these years later.”

“I’d never heard of her. Don’t you think it’s weird that no one mentioned her death when Rose went missing?”

Monica pauses midway through opening a container of sour cream with her long, manicured nails. “Not really, I don’t see how they’re relevant.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” she replies, a sharp edge to her voice, “but besides that, Jacqueline’s death was hard on the whole town. Lot of bad memories and the wounds, they’re deep. People prefer to compartmentalize things like that and not open them again.”

A flicker of annoyance runs through me.

“So you’ll be okay in thirty years if no one remembers Rose ever existed?” My voice raises, just high enough to cause a few people look over, but the music is loud. Finn and I make eye contact, and he frowns. “Because it hurts to think about it?”

“Kenley, I know it’s been a rough few weeks, but now is not the time or place to talk about this.”

“Why not? Why can’t we talk about Rose? Or is it because I’m asking questions about a Thistle Cove secret?”

“Kenley—”

“Is that how it starts? No questions asked, no suspects, no leads…and then one day it’s literally like it never happened?”

A loud clank gets my attention. It’s Finn, dropping the tool in his hand on the trailer bed. He hops off and walks over.

“Hey, what’s going on over here. Everything okay?” He looks between the two of us.

Monica sighs. “Kenley is upset. Understandably. Maybe it would be best if someone gave her a ride home.”

“I’m not upset.”

Monica ignores me and turns to the group. “Dinner’s ready! Come grab a plate!”

Squeals of excitement follow, and Finn pulls me aside, getting me out of the way of the stampede. Once we’re away from the others he asks, “Do you want to tell me what that was about?”

“There’s another missing girl.”

His eyes pop wide. “What? Who? Where?”

I shake my head. “No, not today. Not now, back in 1991, the year the team won the Championship. The year Brice Waller, Jason Chandler, and Ezra’s dad were seniors.”

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