A No Strings Hook-Up May Expose a Killer In This Excerpt From The One That Got Away with Murder
High school can be deadly in more ways than one. At least if you go by the young adult fiction. In the world of YA thrillers, teens aren’t just forced to navigate the complex hierarchies of the high school social scene, but threats of a much more dangerous variety. Such is the case in The One That Got Away with Murder, a propulsive story about privilege and power and the secrets those things can protect.
A YA thriller from debut author Trish Lundy, the story follows Lauren, a teen who has recently moved to Pennslyvania for her senior year of high school and is desperate for a fresh start. But when she indulges in a supposedly no-strings-attached hookup with classmate Robbie Cresmont, she finds herself entangled in a dark mystery when a mysterious death rocks their small community.
Because it turns out that the whole town already believes Robbie—as well as his brother, Trevor—has already gotten away with murder. And Lauren’s stumbled on a clue that might just prove they’re right. Unsure who to trust, she’ll have to figure out how to catch a killer. And do it before she herself becomes a victim.
Here’s how the publisher describes the story.
Robbie and Trevor Cresmont have a body count—the killer kind. Handsome and privileged, the Crestmont brothers’ have enough wealth to ensure they’ll never be found guilty of any wrongdoing, even if all of Happy Valley believes they’re behind the deaths of their ex-girlfriends. First there was soccer star Victoria Moreno, Robbie’s ex, who mysteriously drowned at the family lake house. Then, a year later, Trevor’s girlfriend died of a suspicious overdose.
But the Crestmonts aren’t the only ones with secrets. Lauren O’Brian might be the new girl at school, but she’s never been a good girl. With a dark past of her own, she’s desperate for a fresh start. Except when she starts a no-strings-attached relationship with Robbie, her chance is put in jeopardy. During what’s meant to be their last weekend together, Lauren stumbles across shocking evidence that just might implicate Robbie.
With danger closing in, Lauren doesn’t know who to trust. And after a third death rocks the town, she must decide whether to end things with Robbie or risk becoming another cautionary tale.
The One That Got Away with Murder won’t hit shelves until April 16, but we’ve got an exclusive look at the story right now to help tide you over.
NINE
“Trust me, the temperature’s perfect,” Robbie says.
I narrow my eyes, seeing gooseflesh travel up and down his body .
“Yeah right.”
It’s supposed to be overcast all day, and there’s a chance of rain again this afternoon. I wrap a beach towel around my body and perch myself on the back end of the boat.
John lays out on the deck, his skin shimmering with oil. The breeze picks up the tropical scent.
“Aren’t you freezing?” I ask him.
“I’m coaxing the sun out,” John says. “She’s being shy but the deck’s warming up. I can feel it.”
I look out toward the water, seeing boats anchored all around us. They must all think the same thing. Coolers overvlow with cans of beer. Kids cannonball into the water, laughing their heads off. A Jet Ski speeds by. A boat passes us with someone water-skiing off the back.
My eyes find Robbie again. He floats on an inflatable chaise lounge. Water beads up on his skin, across his pecs. I flush, thinking back to last night. And for a moment I ease into a relaxed state of mind. I feel calm for the first time in weeks. Then, as if my brain could sense my brief second of vulnerability, I’m struck with a fear from the night before.
He knows. He knows what happened with Clint.
Robbie surprised me. On purpose. He wanted to have the upper hand.
I take a breath. Deep down, I know it was smart of him. Find someone equal to or worse off than you, and suddenly the guilt, the grief, doesn’t seem as heavy anymore.
John’s method works, because the sun finally breaks through the clouds. I let my towel fall from my makeshift cocoon as sweat gathers across my torso.
John sets his sunglasses in a drink console. He grabs his phone, but when he catches me glancing at him, he decides against whatever it was he was going to do. He places it underneath his sunglasses and dives into the water, making a splash. He swims over to the other inflatable lounge.
“I thought you’d never join me,” Robbie tells him.
He reaches his arm out and John floats over, grabbing on to it. Robbie reels him in closer, until their lounges are right next to each other.
Another boat cruises by. The motion sends a sizeable wave underneath ours. The guys bounce up and down on their lounges, floating farther away. I notice the sun’s already dried Robbie’s board shorts. That’s my cue to put on sunscreen. The only parts of my body with any sort of semi-tan are my legs and arms, from soccer. The rest of my pasty white skin is fair game for a burn.
I reach into my tote bag, rummaging around. I find ChapStick that’s soft as putty, a stray tampon, and a hat. No sunscreen. I put on the hat, at least. That’s what I get for failing to unpack all my moving boxes.
I open the boat compartment closest to me. Inside is an expensive bottle of tanning oil. I’ll use that as my last resort. I try another compartment, in the middle of the deck, but find only a handful of red Solo cups. I move toward the front of the boat, searching underneath life vests. Sweat gathers across the back of my neck. I am actively burning.
I try the compartment underneath the steering wheel. I find a fire extinguisher and some old magazines. And a small bottle of Coppertone sunscreen in the far back corner.
I arch, reaching for it, but it’s still too far away. I get down on all fours, wincing as the hot wood hits my skin. I just grasp the bottle when something else catches my eye.
Something blue and white. Tie-dyed. It’s tucked behind a ripped floatie.
I drop the bottle of sunscreen and reach for it.
It’s a bathing suit top. Just a top. No bottoms. Maybe it’s Stacy’s. But it’s too Target-esque when her brand is more like Saks.
My hands shake. All I can think about is what Lex told me. That the top Victoria was wearing when she died was never found.
58
No fucking way this is it.
I should leave it. Pulling it out is like opening Pandora’s box.
But I’ve already seen it. It’s too late. I have to know. I have to know as much about Robbie’s past as he knows about mine. I grab the bikini top. The first thing I notice is how stiff it feels. It smells like something sweet and rotten. Like Malibu
Rum gone bad. The pattern is warped and sun bleached. Then my fingers feel something on the underside, some- thing old and crusted. When I turn it over, I suck in a breath.
It’s a brown-red stain. The size of my fist.
Holy shit.
Victoria had a wound on her chest
A boat cruises by. I huddle over the bikini, trying to hide it from view. Then I hear John’s laugh, closer than before. I shove the bikini back to where I found it and grab the sunscreen. I’m closing the compartment and getting to my feet as fast as humanly possible.
I try to pry open the bottle of sunscreen but my hands are shaking so badly I can’t. The boat rocks and I’m losing my balance. I grab on to the nearest railing, watching as Robbie swims to the side. He hoists himself up and over the edge.
He cannot know I found her top. I dump a handful of sunscreen into my palms and chuck the bottle into a different compartment before he can tell where I got it from. Then I go to work, starting with my legs first.
“Want me to lather you?”
Soon he’s behind me. His fingers graze the top of my shoulders. A shiver rockets down my spine.
“Yeah,” I say. “Here.”
I wipe some of the white goop into his palms. He starts with my shoulders.
“You have a big knot right here,” he says, working his fingertips into my flesh.
“I slept weird,” I say.
“Or maybe you hardly slept,” he teases.
If I think about us being together last night, I might pass out. All I can focus on is the image of that bloodstain.
I open and shut my eyes. His hands massage their way down my vertebrae. I clench my jaw.
Robbie works his way around me, coming to stand in front of my face. I try to relax my jaw and smear the last dollop of sunscreen into his palms. He rubs his hands together, and finds my arm, blending sunscreen into my skin. I catch him looking at me. At all of me.
“You look so hot,” he whispers.
My tongue is like sandpaper. “I already did my legs,” I say. The thought of him touching my inner thighs is something I can’t handle right now.
I wipe my hands off on my towel. When I look up again, Robbie’s grinning at me. Before I have a chance to react, his arms are around me. I’m screaming as he launches us over the side of the boat.
I sink into the lake. Sediment swirls around me. My hand catches in a tree root and I yank it away as my other hand brushes against something slimy. I instantly recoil. Then I make out Robbie’s shape in front of me. His dark hair, his pale skin.
He smiles. Bubbles pour out of his mouth like foam. Then he’s swimming toward me. I kick myself upward.
I finally break the surface. Fresh air hits my face. Then John’s there, pushing a floatie toward me.
“Come on in,” he says. “The water’s fine.”
I hoist myself onto the floatie, my heart still racing. Robbie surfaces a few feet away.
“Sorry,” he says. “I know that wasn’t the holiest of baptisms.”
I can’t paddle away fast enough.
The One That Got Away with Murder will be released on April 16, but you can pre-order it right now.
Lacy Baugher Milas is the Books Editor at Paste Magazine, but loves nerding out about all sorts of pop culture. You can find her on Twitter @LacyMB