Missing You by Meg Cabot

Author:Meg Cabot [Cabot, Meg]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
ISBN: 9780061971815
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2012-11-27T14:09:57+00:00

Twelve

“But, seriously, Jess,” Rob said. “How’d you know?”

“I didn’t,” I said. We were sitting on the floor of the walk-in bedroom closet of Apartment 1S. Around us lay a pile of men’s shoes. They were what we’d pulled down from the closet shelf on which the video camera sat, pointing through the hole in the closet wall into the bedroom. Randy had obviously hidden the camera from view under piles of Adidas and JP Tod’s driving moccasins.

“I just guessed,” I said. “Something he said.”

Rob looked at the tapes we’d pulled down from a closet shelf high above our heads—I’d had to be lifted to reach it. Randy obviously used a stepladder. Each tape was neatly labeled with a name. CARLY. JASMINE. ALLISON. RACHEL. BETH.

There were multiple copies of each. Sadly, I think we were going to have to watch them in order to see if they were multiple copies of the same tape, or different movies of the same girl.

Not that it mattered. Except that if they were multiple copies of the same tape, it meant they weren’t merely for home use, but for distribution.

I wasn’t sure whether or not this had occurred to Rob yet, and I wasn’t about to bring it up. He looked pale enough as it was.

“He’s taping them,” he said dazedly from where he sat on the closet floor…which was carpeted in—what else?—beige.

“Some of them,” I said. I’d been relieved there’d been no tapes marked HANNAH. I just hoped the reason why—that the tapes of Hannah, if they existed, were upstairs in 2T—didn’t occur to him.

“You don’t think he’s got tapes of Hannah somewhere?” Rob demanded.

Ooops. So I guess it had occurred to him.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” I said.

But it was too late. Rob was already on his feet.

Damn it.

I struggled to put all the videotapes we’d pulled out back into the boxes they’d come from.

“Rob,” I said. “Wait. Don’t do anything—”

“Don’t do anything what?” Rob demanded, whipping around to glare down at me from the closet doorway. “Hasty? Violent? What? Jess, what do you want me to do? That’s my sister.”

Then he turned around and stomped from the room.

Damn it again. I shoved all the videos I could grab into the box I was holding, and staggered out after him. I’m not kidding, that box was heavy. There were a lot of videos in it.

“Rob,” I called. “Rob, don’t—”

But it was too late. He’d left the apartment.

I knew where he was going, though, and I hurried after him, lugging the box of tapes.

“Rob,” I said, lurching out into the warm evening air and following him up the outdoor cement steps to the second floor of the apartment complex. “You don’t want to do this.”

“Actually,” he said, as he breezed past 2S, and found himself outside 2T. “I really do.”

“Well, at least let me—”

But it was too late. Before I had a chance to take out my ID card, he’d kicked the door open with a single powerful blow from the heel of his motorcycle boot.

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