"Because of Hailey," Adam asked, "or Miguel?"
"Both."
"Well, that fag crap is Dark Ages," Trevor said.
"Facts!" Adam bellowed.
"But you still got a soft spot for Hailey." Trevor grinned. "Why are you wasting your time on her? She's pretty and nice. But bro, she's like totally straitlaced."
"You know why. She's not like the other girls," Conner replied.
"Exactly. You haven't gotten very far with her."
"Yeah," Adam said. "There's lots of girls that would be a lot more fun. Mackenzie. Shelby. Deanna. Oh, and Brooke. She's liked you since ninth grade."
"Yeah," Trevor agreed. "You just want to claim the V, huh?"
"Shut up." Conner returned his attention to the television. "I'm not hung up on her, and both of you know that. So, let's talk about something else."
Trevor moaned, "Oh, Conner, stop. It hurts."
Sighing, Conner sprung to his feet. "All right. You asked for it." He tackled Trevor on the sofa. "You're a total ass."
Trevor laughed as they rolled onto the floor. "Be gentle, Conner."
"Hey, hey, hey!" Adam yelled. "We just got a group text from Jasmine."
Conner loosened his grip on Trevor. "What'd she say?'
"It's a screen capture."
Conner scanned the living room for his phone. He snatched it off an end table and selected Jasmine's text message.
The image was a news article. Once he'd enlarged the photo, the bold headline drew in his eye like a magnet.
Local Exorcism Frightens Community.
He closed the image without even reading the first sentence. Nor did he click on the link to the article in the second text message.
"I wish all of this would just go away," he said. "Each day, the story gets bigger and bigger."
Trevor glanced up from his phone. "Did you click on the link?"
"Nope."
"It's really not that bad," Adam said. "Listen to this.
"'Newman, Connecticut is a quaint suburban neighborhood of beautiful Colonial homes, upper middle-class families, and a school district recognized for academic and athletic achievements. By all accounts, it's a lovely place to raise a family. Yet according to residents, something sinister transpired in a house located on Cottage Drive.
"'The initial murmurs of demonic possession came to light in social media posts by friends of the alleged victim. As the rumors escalated, the community was shocked to learn an alleged exorcism had occurred, resulting in the death of a teenaged boy. The family involved has thus far declined to comment on this developing story.'"
"Okay," Conner said. "That wasn't that bad, I guess. But it means more and more people are going to know about it. The end of the article even said developing story."
Trevor tapped out a message and then set his phone down. "Maybe that woman and man we saw at the funeral work for that website."
"What's the site?"
Adam said, "The Paranormal Society of New England."
"Well, at least it's not like The New York Times or whatever."
"Not yet," Trevor said.
Conner returned to his spot on the floor and aimed the remote at the TV. As he scanned the selection of movies, he reflected on the online article. The more he thought about Jared, the more he wanted to know the truth from Jared's family, not online articles and posts on social media. He turned toward Trevor and Adam.
"We need to talk to Jared's parents or Leah. Maybe the priest."
His friends looked at him in silent agreement.
Facing the TV again, he contemplated sending a text to Hailey but decided to wait until later when Trevor and Adam were gone.
* * *
Lou walked outside his rented home in Worcester, Massachusetts and loaded a suitcase into the trunk of his car. As he leaned against the vehicle and lit a cigarette, his phone chimed on the passenger seat. While fumbling with the door handle, his cigarette fell to the ground.
"Dammit!" He pinched the Camel from the curb and placed it between his lips. Standing again, he noticed Dave walking toward him with duffle bags in both hands. "Hey! You're on time."
"Gimme a break. I've been late five times during the eight years that we've worked together."
"And no occasion was forgotten."
Dave dropped the bags onto the sidewalk and huffed as if he'd carried two hundred pounds. "Had to park around the corner, so we'll have to swing by my car to get the equipment."
Lou mumbled "uh, huh" as he opened the email account on his phone. "Got a response from ball-buster."
He quickly skimmed the message. "She's not excited about the prospect of sharing this story with us. But she's willing to meet with us to discuss it. So, we'll give her a call as soon as we get into Newman."
"Let's take her and Walter out to dinner tonight," Dave said. "We can't afford to waste time on this. Pretty soon others will come swooping in like vultures. We gotta make some good progress before the dirty birds come around."
"True that." Lou gestured to the trunk. "Let's get you loaded, then get to your car. It's a little over an hour to Newman, and I'd like to get there before rush hour."
* * *
In the high school parking lot, Hailey waited in her car for Jasmine to be released from detention. When two teachers had put an end to the fight in the cafeteria, Hailey had expected to be ordered to the principal's office along with everyone else. But the teachers never considered her a troublemaker, so they let her walk right out of the lunchroom.
A part of her wished that she had gotten into trouble. Sometimes being the self-proclaimed good girl was more of a burden than a title of virtue. When it came to kids like Alex and Rachel, it was easy to ignore the teasing and rude remarks. She wasn't embarrassed by her innocent reputation. Yet there were times when she fought the urge to rebel. Walk out of class without permission. Disobey her parents' rules. Do something bad—albeit minor—without worrying about the consequences.
Although, discovered by the cops inside the Smiths' house the previous night was a decent form of unruly behavior. Had she gotten into trouble because of the cafeteria incident, her parents might
