Rizzoli-Isles – Book 4

Writing is lonely work, but no writer truly labors alone. I’m lucky to have had the help and support of Linda Marrow and Gina Centrello at Ballantine Books, Meg Ruley, Jane Berkey, Don Cleary and the superb team at the Jane Rotrosen Agency, Selina Walker at Transworld, and-most important of all-my husband Jacob. Warmest thanks to you all!

THAT BOY WAS WATCHING her again.

Fourteen-year-old Alice Rose tried to focus on the ten exam questions on her desk, but her mind was not on freshman English; it was on Elijah. She could feel the boy’s gaze, like a beam aimed at her face, could feel its heat on her cheek, and knew she was blushing.

Concentrate, Alice!

The next question on the test was smudged from the mimeograph machine, and she had to squint to make out the words.

Charles Dickens often chooses names that match his characters’ traits. Give some examples and describe why the names fit those particular characters.

Alice chewed her pencil, trying to dredge up an answer. But she couldn’t think while he was sitting at the next desk, so close that she could inhale his scent of pine soap and wood smoke. Manly smells. Dickens, Dickens, who cared about Charles Dickens and Nicholas Nickleby and boring freshman English when gorgeous Elijah Lank was looking at her? Oh my, he was so handsome, with his black hair and blue eyes. Tony Curtis eyes. The very first time she’d ever seen Elijah, that’s what she’d thought: that he looked exactly like Tony Curtis, whose beautiful face beamed from the pages of her favorite magazines, Modern Screen and Photoplay.

She bent her head forward, and as her hair fell across her face, she cast a furtive glance sideways through the curtain of blond strands. Felt her heart leap when she confirmed that he was, indeed, looking at her, and not in that disdainful way that all the other boys in school did, those mean boys who made her feel slow and dim-witted. Whose ridiculing whispers were always just out of earshot, too soft for her to make out their words. She knew the whispers were about her, because they were always looking at her as they did it. Those were the same boys who’d taped the photo of a cow to her locker, who mooed if she accidentally brushed against them in the hallway. But Elijah-he was looking at her in a different way altogether. With smoldering eyes. Movie star eyes.

Slowly she raised her head and stared back, not through a protective veil of hair this time, but with frank acknowledgment of his gaze. His test paper was already completed and turned facedown, his pencil put away in his desk. His full attention was focused on her, and she could scarcely breathe under the spell of his gaze.

He likes me. I know it. He likes me.

Her hand lifted to her throat, to the top button of her blouse. Her fingers brushed across her skin, leaving a trail of heat. She thought of Tony Curtis’s molten gaze on Lana Turner, a look that could make a girl go tongue-tied and wobble-kneed. The look that came just before the inevitable kiss. That’s when the movies always went out of focus. Why did that have to happen? Why did it always go fuzzy, just at the moment when you most wanted to see…

“Time’s up, class! Please turn in your test papers.”

Alice ’s attention snapped back to her desk, to the mimeographed test paper, half the questions still unanswered. Oh, no. Where had the time gone? She knew these answers. She just needed a few more minutes…

“ Alice. Alice!”

She looked up and saw Mrs. Meriweather’s hand held out.

“Didn’t you hear me? Time to turn in your test.”

“But I-”

“No excuses. You’ve got to start listening, Alice.” Mrs. Meriweather snatched up Alice ’s exam and moved on down the aisle. Though Alice could barely hear their murmurs, she knew the girls right behind her were gossiping about her. She turned and saw their heads bent together, their hands shielding their mouths, muffling giggles. Alice can read lips, so don’t let her see we’re talking about her.

Now some of the boys were laughing, too, pointing at her. What was so funny?

Alice glanced down. To her horror she saw that the top button had fallen off her blouse, which was now gaping open.

The school bell rang, announcing dismissal.

Alice snatched up her book bag and hugged it to her chest as she fled the classroom. She didn’t dare look anyone in the eye, just kept walking, head down, tears building in her throat. She dashed into the restroom and locked herself in a stall. As other girls came in and stood laughing, primping in front of the mirrors, Alice hid behind the latched door. She could smell all their different perfumes, could feel the whoosh of air each time the door swung open. Those golden girls, with their brand-new sweater sets. They never lost buttons; they never came to school wearing hand-me-down skirts and shoes with cardboard soles.

Go away. Everyone please just go away.

The door finally stopped whooshing open.

Pressed up against the stall door, Alice strained to hear if anyone was still in the room. Peeking out through the crack, she saw no one standing in front of the mirror. Only then did she creep out of the bathroom.

The hallway was deserted as well, everyone gone for the day. There was no one to torment her. She walked, shoulders hunched self-protectively, down the long corridor with its battered lockers and wall posters announcing the Halloween dance in two weeks. A dance she would certainly not be going to. The humiliation of last week’s dance still stung, and would probably always sting. The two hours of standing alone against the wall, waiting, hoping a boy would ask her onto the floor. When a boy had at last approached her, it was not to dance. Instead he’d suddenly doubled over and thrown up on her shoes. No more dances for her. She’d been in this town only two months, and already she wished her mother would pack them up and move them again, take them someplace where they could start over. Where things would finally be different.

Only, they never are.

She walked out the school’s front entrance, into the autumn sunshine. Bending over her bicycle, she was so intent on opening the lock that she didn’t hear the footsteps. Only as his shadow fell across her face did she realize Elijah was standing beside her.

“Hello, Alice.”

She jerked to her feet, sending her bike crashing onto its side. Oh god, she was an idiot. How could she be so clumsy?

“That was a hard exam, wasn’t it?” He spoke slowly, distinctly. That was one more thing she liked about Elijah; unlike the other kids, his voice was always clear, never muddled. And he always let her see his lips. He knows my secret, she thought. Yet he still wants to be my friend.

“So did you finish all the questions?” he asked.

She bent down to pick up her bike. “I knew the answers. I just needed more time.” As she straightened, she saw that his gaze had dropped to her blouse. To the gap left by the missing button. Flushing, she crossed her arms.

“I’ve got a safety pin,” he said.

“What?”

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a pin. “I’m always losing buttons myself. It’s kind of embarrassing. Here, let me fasten it for you.”

She held her breath as he reached for her blouse. She could barely suppress her trembling as he slipped his finger beneath the fabric to close the pin. Does he feel my heart pounding? she wondered. Does he know I’m dizzy from his touch?