by Tara Brown
“Thanks, guys. I just feel lost.” I gave them all a look. “You know how my mom found out, right?” I skipped the part about me giving her little hints.
The fact we were in a hallway filled with kids was lost on us. If you'd asked, we each would have said we were in our own little bubble. And the moment I asked them the question, it was just silence. “Did Jake tell you?”
They stared, each shaking their head.
“My mom got a mysterious and anonymous package from who she thinks is a friend. Inside was a ransom-styled note telling her about the affair and a bunch of pictures. And other stuff.”
Lindsey understood first. She stepped back. “What?”
“Yeah.”
Sage scowled. “Like the killer’s ransom notes?”
“Yup. Same fonts and everything.” I paid close attention to her eyes as they widened with shock.
“No.” Her mind was working overtime trying to figure out something. “It can’t be.”
Sierra slumped. “So it’s not over, not at all.”
“The letters could have come from someone else,” Rita added quickly.
“The same night Louisa mysteriously sells her story about Lindsey’s dad?”
Lindsey’s face turned bright red. “Oh my God. Louisa is working with the killer.”
“Or she just sold her story to the killer,” I added. “Jake and I both believe this stretch of silence has been a month of plotting and building up ammo. We think the killer is about to strike again. I know Vincent thinks this too.” I looked at Sage, Sierra, and Rita. “Your dads might be next. Remember what we said last month about taking the secrets away and the lies? You should tell them what’s going on. The Cliffs Notes version.”
Sierra winced and pulled out her phone. She dialed and swallowed hard before speaking, “Daddy, I need you to do something for me, right now.” She lowered her head and her voice, “I know about Sage’s mom. You need to break it off or go public with it. Mom too. She and Uncle—no, someone has our secrets. Mr. Henning is dead. Now Lindsey’s dad and Lain’s have been outed for their secrets. Someone has them. Someone knows everything about us.” Whatever he said on the other end made her roll her eyes and sigh. “It doesn't matter how I know. Just stop. Do you want the whole world to know through the media like with their dads?” She gave me a look. “Fine, but you better do it by today before someone else does.”
“I can’t do this.” Sage stepped back. Her face was pale.
“What if the story and all its proof land somewhere like the news?”
“You’re right.” Sage nodded at Lindsey and pulled her phone from her pocket. She took a deep breath and dialed with trembling fingers. “Mom, it’s me. Yeah, I know. It’s break. I need to tell you something. No. No.” She shook her head, getting angry. “Mom! It’s you and Mr. Casey. You have to tell Tom and either end it with Tom or end it with Sierra’s dad.” She flinched, shaking her head. “It doesn't matter. I don't care. Just stop! Lindsey’s dad and Lainey’s have both had their secrets shared and Mr. Henning is dead. Someone knows what you have been doing. You have to take the secret away from them before they use it.” She looked down disappointedly. “Fine, let the media break the story. I haven’t had a bad enough year. Why not add that too?” She hung up and gave me a look. “My family will likely be the 7:00 news right after yours being the 6.”
“She refuses?” Sierra asked.
Sage nodded. “She won’t even admit it to me. She denied the whole affair.”
“My dad said he would fix it today.”
Rita pressed her plump lips together. “I don't even want to call my parents. I love them, but God only knows what they’ve been up to.”
“I’m sorry to be the bearer of such bad news.”
Lindsey wrapped an arm around me. “We know it’s not you. Whoever is doing this is going down. We need a meeting in the bathroom.”
The girls closed their lockers, and we all hurried to the staff bathroom. It locked and was a single stall.
Sage gave me a look. “Did you guys go to Rachel’s?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “We found letters and stuff. She was being blackmailed too. Photos of her in weird positions with just bathing suits on and stuff. It looked bad. She was drugged.”
“She might have taken the drugs herself,” Sierra pointed out.
“I know. Vincent told me that.” I looked down. “Then we went to your house.” I lifted my gaze right at Sage.
She didn't get angry the way I expected. She looked defeated. “You found him, didn't you?”
“Do you want to tell them what we found, or do you want me to?” I wasn't threatening her; I didn’t know if she wanted me to reveal it or not.
“The letter telling him to leave or I was next was on his bed. I started looking around, realizing he was either the killer or being framed. I didn't know which.” She took a deep breath and exhaled her words, “So I went through Ashton’s things the night after he disappeared. I went into his closet and took anything I thought was important. I rifled through his clothes and emptied hangers.” She glanced at Lindsey. “I cleaned out his room so they would think he got the letter and fled. I left that letter in the trash can so the police would know Ashton was innocent, but I took the other stuff.” She lowered her gaze as tears started to fall from her eyes. “He had scissors and squares of letters printed out, all different fonts. He had glue sticks and rubber gloves. And he had a letter all made up. It was for Rachel.” She started to stammer, “He-he had things to-to make th-th-the letters.”
“Oh my God.” Sierra gasped.
“Just wait.” I lifted a hand.
We all stood and watched Sage fall apart. “I thought he might have killed her—Rachel—because she was so evil and so mean to him. But why would he hurt me and you guys? I knew something was wrong and he probably didn't do it, but I didn't know for sure. So-so I hid it-it all in my cl-cl-closet.” She took a deep breath. “Even the pictures from when he was little. He had a collection of pictures of his favorite places in the drawer with the letter stuff. I knew he had run to one of those locations.” She lifted her gaze to mine. “One of the places our dad took him.”
I sighed and nodded. “He thinks the killer came to his room and put the letter-making stuff there to frame him.”
She sniffled. “I was hoping that's what it was. But I didn’t know for sure.”
“Jesus. So he ran, trying to protect you, and you hid the shit, thinking he might have actually killed Rach?” Sierra was starting to sound angry or scared. With her redhead temper, they were the same emotion. “You lied to us when we were in your room and Lindsey found the letter?”
“Yeah.” Sage wiped her eyes. “I guess deep down I was a little scared it was him.”
“It wasn't.” I shook my head.
“He’s been hiding this entire time?” Lindsey asked.
“Yup. He’s still hiding, just somewhere safer than his last place. Jake and I made sure he was okay. Neither of us believes him to be guilty of anything other than dating a crazy chick who provoked him at every turn.”
“What else did you find?” Rita cocked a dark eyebrow.
“Nothing much. Ashton has his side of the story, but he hasn't told me yet. He still seems really upset.”
“Was Rachel’s stuff hidden in the Barbie room?” Lindsey gave me a knowing look.
“Yup. We kept all of that in case the police were asked to overlook it. Rachel’s parents might care more about protecting their own image than they do about the truth. Or they might not have even let the cops into the Barbie room.”
Sage nodded. “That's very likely.” She reached for me again, placing her hand on my arm. “I’m so sorry, Lain. Keeping the secret about the letter stuff was making me so angry.”
“It’s okay. I understand.” And I did. I understood and I believed. So if she was lying and she was the killer, I had been fooled.
Chapter Thirteen
Teacher’s pet
Mr. Bosw
ell, our new geography teacher, paced in front of the class, lecturing, “What is physical geography?” He nodded, offering a cheesy grin. “It is the study of the physical aspects of our world. Water, soil, landmasses, climates, oceans, and weather. But we aren’t just going to sit here and discuss the aspects and definitions of this, no. We are going to study the interactions they have with one another and thus the effects they have on one another.”
He’d clearly memorized the textbook. Unfortunately for us both, so had I.
There would be no surprises this year. There never were with young first-year teachers. I settled in and tried to look like I was at least semiconscious, but my brain was actively elsewhere. It was pouring over the details of my corkboard, which now had two new additions to it.
My father and Lindsey’s joined the ranks of persons of interest to the killer. It also removed them both as suspects. Neither would have killed Mr. Henning after they threatened him. They were both too smart to do that to themselves. They were also too selfish for that.
I glanced down, closing my eyes as I contemplated our mothers being the targets instead. It didn't work. Lindsey’s mom was dead. Mine was a socialite. She didn't have enemies. She had frenemies.
“Patterns in the climate and the weather, how their changes are affecting all the varying civilizations on our globe.” He smiled at me, forcing me to resurface. “Do you know which country is responsible for the largest output of carbon emissions, Miss Allen?”
I blinked and spoke like a robot, “The United Sates is the highest with Europe in second place.”
He lifted a finger. “Actually, China just surpassed Europe.” He chuckled and nodded like he had gotten me on that one.
“Actually, sir, the US and Europe have outsourced their emissions to China and India, causing both countries to rise in percentage, however the debt still sits with the US and Europe. India and China have both declared that the Western world still needs to be held accountable for this.”
He cocked an eyebrow, and I realized I might have made an enemy of our new arrogant teacher. “You are correct. I was hoping one of you might realize that was the correct answer.” He paced back and forth again. “Physical geography is a class that has many practical uses in the real world. The study of the weather for example,” he continued, but I drifted again, certain he didn't want me answering any more questions.
When the bell finally rang I jumped up as he shouted, “We are having a quiz in two weeks. It will be on the first three chapters of the text. I suggest you act like little keeners, the way Miss Allen does”—his eyes darted to me—“and study the book. There’s nothing wrong with knowing the answers and being clear on the subject before the test. In fact, it seems downright responsible.” He waved us free.
I sighed as I entered the hallway, earning a look from Sage. “I feel like he doesn't love you.”
“He hates me.”
“You are an insufferable know-it-all.” Sierra winked.
“I know, and I was so preoccupied with our parents and the other stuff that I forgot to rein it in. Now he’s going to spend the entire semester trying to catch me up and prove me wrong.” I groaned. “And I can’t let him win, but he won’t relent until I do.”
“Why not just be wrong?” Sierra checked her makeup in her phone.
“You mean act dumb?” I snapped.
She gave me a look. “Don’t judge me. It’s not an act, I am dumb.”
“No, you aren’t. You just like to let everyone underestimate you.”
“It’s better than having them expect a bunch of shit I’m not going to give.” She laughed.
Sage wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Just let him win once. You’ll know you’ve won, and he won’t bug you anymore.”
“Ughhh.” I moaned. “I miss Ms. Graves from last year. Why did she have to retire?”
“She was a hundred. Dude. She napped on her lunch break so she could make it through the day. Once, in the staff room, I saw her put her teeth in her napkin before she drank her coffee.”
“She was a genius. She didn't need to read the text and study the news. She could predict what the economy and weather were both going to do. And she remembered history because she had lived through enough of it.” I gave Sierra a look. “And napping is healthy. Many cultures nap. It’s called a siesta.”
“I nap.” She shrugged, missing the point I was making.
We sauntered to our lockers, meeting Lindsey and Rita there. They both looked too excited to see us, and perhaps were grateful they no longer were forced to hang out with each other alone. Rita hated snooping and Lindsey hated people pretending to be something they weren’t.
Lindsey linked her arm with mine. “What’s the plan for our spare?”
“I don't have a spare, and you wanted to go to Rachel’s, but I’ve already done that.”
Her lips drew into the evil grin I hated. It was the one I knew would involve me stealing keys from my dad’s dirty staff. “I have an idea.”
“Whatever it is—no. You look like you’re plotting a murder.”
She rolled her dark-blue eyes. “I’m plotting a snoop.”
I shoved my books into my locker and shut it. “Where?”
“Rachel’s.”
I stared at the locker for a second, wondering if she was going crazy. “Are you high?”
“No.”
“Have you been partaking in the rec drugs at that dirty little coffee Shack?”
“No!” She looked offended.
“I went to Rachel’s already. You recall that, right?”
“Trust me, you missed the good stuff. Now let’s go get a key.”
“We don't need a key.” I shook my head.
Lindsey’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
“I know where the hide-a-key is.” I said the word before I realized she was smarter than Sierra or Sage. It took her half a minute to turn bright red.
“Rachel has a hide-a-key outside her house?” The words were spit even though she didn't go for the real question she wanted to ask.
“Yeah.” I wanted to lie. I honestly did. But I couldn't.
“And Vincent knew where it was the other night?”
I nodded, not wanting to say more.
“Him and Rach?” Her lip trembled. I wasn't sure if it was anger, rage, or sadness.
“No.”
Her eyes widened, but she sighed, relieved. “God, he’s disgusting. Either it’s one of her maids or her mother, and I don't want the answer to that.”
“No,” I repeated. “You don't.”
“At least it wasn't Rachel. I think that might have killed me inside.” She turned and started down the hall, waving to the girls as we left them there.
Sage gave us a funny look, but the other two continued gabbing. I waved and turned away so I didn't have to explain.
“How’s Ash?” Lindsey asked, once we were away from our friends.
“He’s okay. He’s sad. I think in some ways he feels responsible for what happened to Rachel and what’s still happening to us. He believes if he had stayed, he might have been able to help us.”
“Or been killed himself.” She gave me a side-glance.
“Right. I haven’t spoken to him about the whole night yet. I was waiting for the right moment. I guess a part of me is scared of what he did and saw.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Can’t be worse than what we did and saw.”
“True story.” I sighed as we walked out to her car. It blended better than mine did, especially here.
She leaned on the car door before unlocking it and gave me a look. “You know I’m really sorry, right?”
“Yeah.” It still stung that she had assumed such a terrible thing of me.
“No, Lainey. Like really sorry. I don’t even know what was wrong with me.”
“Sage.” I shrugged. “She got to me too. She’s pushing her anger and depression on the rest of us. Playing our weaknesses. It’s weird.” I relinquished some of the anger as
I realized what a hypocrite I was being. “I did the same to Vincent. I made him feel bad for being nice to me, like he was being a pervert, and he wasn’t. He was a gentleman the entire time.” A slow smile crept across my lips. “He’ll never do anything to break your trust.”
Her cheeks flushed as she glanced down at the car, nodding. “I never should have doubted him. But I really shouldn't have doubted you. You’re the truest friend a girl could have.” Her voice cracked a little bit, “I love you.”
There was no way we could remain a car width apart. We rushed to each other, embracing and breathing.
“It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out and then everything will be okay.”
“I know. It just feels like we wasted the summer. Instead of looking for the killer, we hid in our lives.” She sniffled. “We all pretended everything would be fine and it’s not.”
“We didn't really have much choice. With Crimson Cove Inc. in trouble we were put in the spotlight. And you were trying to start a new relationship. And Sage was recovering from learning about her mom, her brother was missing, and Vincent broke up with her and got together with you. And she thought Ash was the killer. And Sierra was being Sierra. And our friend died and our friend’s dad died. And we saw things we never imagined we would. And some freak is playing head games with us.”
“And Rita was new while all of this was happening.”
I laughed. “Right, I always forget about her.”
Lindsey pulled back, giving me a dubious stare. “You don't forget anything.”
“It’s called selective memory.”
“It’s called mean girl, and I never imagined you might join the ranks.”
It was my turn to give a look. “I’m not a mean girl. I just don't trust her.”
“Because she’s into Ash.”
I pressed my lips together. There was no way to answer that without issues. No was a lie and yes was an admittance of the pettiness I had avoided all my life.
“As I suspected.” She scoffed. “At least it proves you’re actually human.” She unlocked the door and walked around the front to the driver’s side.