The Immortals. J.T. Ellison

mom’s with him. They had their eyes on a first-edition Hemingway. They’re supposed to be bidding on it at auction tonight. Dad thinks he can get it for a steal. He’s got a client in Toronto willing to pay through the nose for it.” He broke off. “I’m sorry, I must be boring you. I forget that not everyone is a bibliophile. I’m hoping to take the store over for him one day.”

      “Actually, that’s not boring at all. I love books. And I’d love to hear more about what your dad does. I’m familiar with his store, actually. But that will have to wait for another time. Can we sit?”

      There were two large leather chairs facing a cognac-colored sofa in the center of the room. Theo nodded, took a seat on the sofa. He hardly seemed like an eighteen-year-old whose best friend had just died. His presence was comforting her.

      Marcus went to the bookcase, trailing his fingers along the spines, and Taylor arranged herself in one of the chairs with her notebook.

      “So, Theo. Xander was your best friend. How many of the victims do you know personally?”

      “From what I’ve heard about who was killed, all of them.”

      “Who have you heard about?”

      “Jerry King, Ashley Norton, Mandy and Xander. Chelsea Mott and Rachel Welch were together too, and Brandon. I also heard a rumor that another girl was taken to the hospital.”

      “News travels fast. It’s not a rumor. Do you know Brittany Carson?”

      “Is that her name? No, I don’t. Never heard of her.”

      “She attends St. Cecilia’s. I was hoping she had some ties to your friends at Hillsboro.”

      “Well, you know how it is. The kids who live on either side of us go to private school, Montgomery Bell and Ensworth, but we don’t hang out. It’s the neighborhood dynamic, I guess.”

      “So how did you hear about the murders?”

      He held up his cell. “Everyone’s been talking. I’ve gotten nearly two hundred texts this afternoon. I’m way over my limit—my parents are going to kill me.” He winced as soon as the words were out.

      “Would you be willing to let me see your texts?” she asked.

      He paused for the barest of moments. “They’ll look like gibberish to you. I know my father absolutely hates it when I abbreviate, the language we use. He thinks it represents the decline of modern society. But the smart keyboard makes it so much easier to talk quickly.”

      “I can’t say I disagree with your father there. My computer expert is pretty handy with all things technical. He should be able to translate for us. Tell me how you heard about Xander.”

      Theo squirmed in his seat. He’d paled when she mentioned Lincoln’s expertise, and she knew he was hiding something.

      “Theo?”

      His eyes filled with tears. “I think I talked to him right before he died.”

      “You do? Why is that?”

      Theo went from a prepossessed young man to a child in an instant, face screwed up in an attempt not to start weeping. She gave him a few breaths to get back under control.

      “It’s okay, Theo. We’re just talking. You’re not in trouble, not unless you had something to do with the murders.”

      “God, no. Of course I didn’t. You can’t actually think that.”

      “Then relax. I just want to know what happened this afternoon.”

      “Are you going to tell my parents what I say?”

      “Are you eighteen?” He nodded. “Then so long as you haven’t broken any laws, I see no need to divulge the information. Just tell me the truth, okay? We’ll get along much better if you tell me the truth.”