Perfect timing.
She waved, trying to catch his eye, and when he looked up at her, she flicked her head toward Amber.
John paused and stared at her. “Now?” he mouthed.
Olivia opened her eyes wide and nodded. “Now.”
John wrinkled his nose and sighed, big and dramatic. A child being asked to do a chore he doesn’t want to do. But it only lasted a moment before he set his shoulders, thrust his hips forward, and sauntered over to their table like a rock star taking the stage.
“John!” Amber squealed the moment she saw him. She quickly disentangled herself from Tyler and Kyle. “Did you hear what happened? Did you see it?”
“Yeah.” John eyed Tyler and Kyle. “Really, um, messed up. To go after him like that.” He didn’t sound like he even remotely believed the words that were coming out of his mouth.
Amber didn’t notice. She waved her hand, dismissing her audience. Tyler and Kyle slinked away, hands buried deep in the pockets of their matching jeans. “Rex is terrified of clowns,” she said, once they were out of earshot. “I’m not surprised he pissed himself.”
Peanut tilted her head to the side. “I thought you just said you were absolutely positive the video was doctored?”
Amber ignored her. “But I’m just so shaken.” She shuddered, wiggling her head and shoulders as if she’d been shocked by a cattle prod. “I mean, I could be next.”
John stared at her blankly, formulating a response. Olivia knew the words on the tip of his tongue were something like “Yeah, and you’d deserve it” and she could see him struggle to suppress that instinct, and come up with something more in character.
“You?” he said at last. “A target of DGM? But you’re Amber Stevens!”
Amber giggled. “I am!” she said, as if being Amber Stevens was somehow a title of honor bestowed by a higher power instead of the name she was given at birth.
“You practically run this school.” John smiled, pleased with himself. “Everyone looks up to you.”
“They do, don’t they,” Amber said. It wasn’t a question.
John bit his lip like a flirty schoolgirl and looked up at the sky. “I know I always have.”
If Bree could see this display, she’d be laughing her ass off. Or punching someone. Or both.
Amber squeezed John’s arm. “You are so adorable.” She turned back to Jezebel, Peanut, and Olivia. “Haven’t I always said that John was totally adorable?”
“No,” Peanut said innocently.
Amber scowled. “Yes, I have, Peanut.” She looked pointedly at Olivia. “Haven’t I?”
“Um . . . sure?” She couldn’t keep the raised inflection out of her voice. But thankfully Amber didn’t notice. The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.
Amber launched herself off the table. “Time for drama!”
Olivia smiled. She was right on so many levels.
“Walk me?” Amber latched onto John’s arm like a debutante waiting to be escorted into the ball.
John sighed. “Sure.” He trudged off, Amber leeched to his side, with all the enthusiasm of a soldier on a suicide mission.
“Thank God,” Peanut said. She grabbed the remnants of her lunch and shoved them in her bag, and Olivia noticed for the first time that she’d barely eaten anything.
“You okay?” she asked, quickly following her friend.
Peanut looked at her sidelong, instantly suspicious. “Yeah.”
Why so on edge? “You didn’t eat any lunch.” Olivia forced a laugh. “Still on the cleanse?”
“Cleanse?” Peanut replied, obviously confused.
Olivia made a mental note never to do one of Mrs. Dumbrowski’s master cleanses. It had turned Peanut’s brain to mush.
Mr. Cunningham bounded out from the wings the moment the bell rang. “Settle down, everyone. Settle!”
Olivia looked up and noticed that he’d wheeled the big-screen television onto the stage.
“Exciting news today!” he said, as the din lowered. He held up his hand. In it was a DVD. “I’ve got the video from opening night!”
Olivia went rigid in her seat. Finally! The police had presumably gone over the video several times, looking for any evidence in regard to Margot’s attack. But they didn’t know what to look for.
“I picked it up from the police department yesterday after class,” Mr. Cunningham said, “but I haven’t watched it yet. I wanted to share that joy with all of you. Now I know we’re all excited, but let us remember the tragic events that took place that evening.” He gestured to Logan. “And be respectful of those still suffering because of it.”
“Thanks, dude,” Logan said. His face was stoic.
“So with that in mind, I give you . . .” Mr. Cunningham waved his hand with a dramatic flourish and backed off the stage. “Twelfth Precinct.”
Mr. Cunningham disappeared into the wings and the house lights dimmed, leaving the theater illuminated only by the blue glow of the television. The screen went static, then the video began. Olivia could see the theater, curtains open to reveal the sets representing seventies New York, and hear the audience twittering, waiting for the show to begin. She held her breath as the house lights dimmed and the screen went black. This was it.
Music blared from the speakers, but it wasn’t the rock track played by Bangers and Mosh. It was a funky calliope song from a hooty pipe organ, like you’d hear on an old-time merry-go-round.
“Hey!” Shane called out. “That’s not our band. Did you replace us for the DVD release?”
Before Mr. Cunningham could answer, a photo popped onto the screen. It was a close-up of a wooden sign, hand-painted in yellow with the words “Camp Shred.” After a couple of seconds, another photo took its place. This was a wider shot, showing the Camp Shred sign in the middle of the woods at what appeared to be a summer camp.
Olivia’s hands went cold. Had someone accidentally taped over the only piece of evidence DGM had?
A subtitle zoomed into frame.
Camp Shred, Jones Gulch, CA—June, 2005
“Oh my God!” Amber gasped.
The photos accelerated, one every few seconds. They showed groups of kids, age ten or eleven, participating in a variety of camp activities—canoeing, swimming, hiking, arts and crafts. All of them were on the chubby side, a few were borderline obese. And one girl was prominent in every photo, her wavy light-brown hair eerily familiar.
The slideshow paused on a close-up of the girl’s face, the image of her chubby, smiling cheeks lingering on the screen.
It wasn’t until Amber shot to her feet that Olivia realized who she was looking at.
“How dare you!” Amber screamed to no one in particular. Then before Olivia could stop her, she ran up the aisle and out of the classroom.
She didn’t even see the final image on the screen.
Courtesy of DGM.
TWENTY-THREE
ED COULDN’T BELIEVE WHAT HE WAS SEEING ON HIS PHONE AS he streamed out of English literature.
It was amazing, really. Not the fact that the new DGM had pulled off two pranks in one day, but the fact that Ed didn’t know Amber Stevens had been to fat camp.
He took it as a personal affront by these DGM copycats. At Margot’s request, he’d been digging into Amber’s past for the last six months and hadn’t found so much as a hint of Amber’s Camp Shred history. Sure, it had probably been in fifth grade, before her family moved to Menlo Park. And of course Amber, who’d cemented her queen bitch reputation by making fun of other people’s weight, would have gone to tremendous lengths to ensure no one ever knew about her hypocritical past. But Ed prided himself on being smarter—and sneakier—than almost anyone else at school, and the fact that the new DGM had succeeded where he had failed stung like hell.
He sighed as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. If only Margot was here to see it. Ed was pretty sure this montage would elicit a smile.
The hallways at Bishop DuMaine were a seething mass of confusion. Father Ub
erti had dismissed school for the day just twenty minutes into fourth period. He wanted everyone to vacate the campus immediately, pending the police investigation of the newest DGM transgressions. Around him, students were running every which way, gossiping, laughing. Cell phones and tablets that weren’t lit up with the Amber montage were playing the video of Rex and the clown. Teachers scurried through the halls, trying to get students to break up their powwows and go home. Ed noted the whistles of gym coaches and the screams of police sirens in the distance.
Everyone thought DGM was dead since Bree Deringer had turned herself in. Idiots.
Now only one question remained: who would get framed for these latest DGM crimes against Bishop DuMaine humanity?
And more importantly, how did Ed make sure it wasn’t him?
He wove through the hallways, the only student not transfixed by his cell phone screen, and searched for someone who could help with the answer to this question. It didn’t take him long to spot the tall figure of Kitty Wei striding purposefully down the hall, her long ponytail swishing violently from side to side.
“Hola, Miss Student Body Vice President,” Ed said, sliding up behind her. “A word, if you will?”
Kitty didn’t even look at him. “No time. I have to meet Kyle and Tyler. They’re taking me to see Rex.”
“In case it’s slipped your notice,” Ed said quietly, straining to keep up with her long stride, “we’re all about to be sacrificial lambs. Old F.U. is going to tear the school apart to find out who was behind these pranks, and do you really think the newbie perps have the fail-safes in place like you hardened criminals? It’s only a matter of time before they’re caught, and you’d better pray they don’t know shit about you.”
Kitty stopped dead in her tracks and Ed plowed into her solid frame, momentarily knocking his breath away. Before he could regain his composure, Kitty gripped his arm so fiercely he thought his arteries might pop and dragged him out of the nearest door into the deserted courtyard by the boys’ locker room.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she growled through clenched teeth. He’d never seen Kitty this pissed off before. Apparently, he’d hit a nerve. “Are you trying to get us arrested?”
Ed smiled while he rubbed the numbness out of his upper arm. “I’m watching out for number one, that’s all.”
“Of course you are.” Kitty stuck her finger in Ed’s face. “And how do we know you won’t protect yourself by turning us in?”
“You don’t.” Ed smiled broadly. “You just have to trust me.”
“Make no mistake about this,” Kitty said, glaring down at him. “I don’t.”
Just then, the side door to the school burst open and Logan lumbered into the courtyard. Instinctively, both Ed and Kitty jumped apart and acted like they hadn’t been involved in a heated confrontation just moments before.
“Hey,” Logan said, glancing back and forth between them.
Ed immediately donned an affable, friendly demeanor. “Logan, my man.” He held his hand up for a high five. “Don’t leave me hanging, bro.”
Logan stared at Ed’s raised hand but didn’t reciprocate. “How’s your aunt Helen?”
Ed felt his face grow hot.
Kitty arched an eyebrow. “Aunt Helen?”
“Don’t ask.” Ed eyed Logan, wondering if he was serious or pulling his leg. “She’s fine,” he said slowly.
“Oh,” Logan said with a smile. “Good. Hey, can I talk to Kitty? In private?”
“Anything you can say to Miss Wei,” Ed said, channeling a hotshot sports agent, “you can say to me. I have exclusive rights to all professional interviews and—”
“Ed!” Kitty barked. Her sense of humor was definitely lacking. “Get out of here.”
“Fine.” He desperately wanted to hear what Logan had to say to Kitty, but what could he do short of positively refusing to leave? That would piss Kitty off even further, which was the last thing he wanted to do. He’d just have to take his chances eavesdropping. With a dramatic sigh, Ed slowly dragged his backpack toward the door to the boys’ locker room. “I am considerably—and reluctantly—out of here.”
Kitty wanted to punch Ed in the face as he sauntered out of the courtyard. How did they ever think it was a good idea to initiate him into DGM?
“Sorry,” Logan said. His usually breezy smile felt forced. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Trust me,” Kitty said. “You weren’t interrupting.”
“Oh, good.” Logan shifted his weight back and forth between his feet as if he were standing on hot coals. “I don’t even know if you’re the right person to talk to, but I heard your speech this morning. In leadership. And, well, I thought that you might listen to me.”
He looked nervous and uncomfortable, like a guy who was keeping a secret. Was it possible Logan knew something about DGM or the killer? “Sure,” she said, smiling. “What’s up?”
“It’s about Olivia Hayes. Do you know her?”
Kitty fought hard to keep from showing any emotion at the mention of Olivia’s name. She took a moment to remind herself of their outward relationship.
You know who she is because she’s the most popular girl in school and you’re dating her ex-boyfriend. Nothing more.
“Everybody knows Olivia Hayes.”
Logan laughed nervously. “Right. Sorry. Well, I’m worried she might be involved somehow in all this.”
Kitty stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“Like . . .” Logan ran his fingers through his longish blond hair. His eyebrows were pinched together and his nose wrinkled up, as if he was grappling with a difficult concept. “A couple of days ago, we were talking about the night Margot . . .” His voice trailed off and Kitty saw a look of pain wash over his face.
“Opening night of the play?” she suggested, careful not to give anything away.
Logan swallowed. “Yeah. Well, I told Olivia about how I’d seen something weird that night. While I was onstage. Two dudes in the audience who, like, totally shouldn’t have been there.”
The Gertler twins.
“Did you tell the police?”
Logan nodded. “Yeah, but I don’t think that sergeant dude took me very seriously.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I told Olivia, right? And then last night I stopped by the surf shop where these dudes work, just to look at some new Uggs, and it was empty.”
Kitty looked at him sidelong. “What do you mean, ‘empty’?”
“Like, the door was unlocked, the lights were on, but nobody was home.” Logan passed a hand through his hair again. “I checked with the lady who runs the shop next door and she hadn’t seen anything. She called the owner, who was pissed, I think. I left my number in case anyone heard anything, then this morning I got a voice mail from that sergeant guy, asking if I could come down and answer some questions about their disappearance.”
“They’re missing?” Kitty blurted out.
Logan shrugged. “I guess so. And, like, right after I told Olivia. Don’t you think that’s kinda weird?”
It was kind of weird. More so than Logan could possibly have realized.
“Then after that video this morning,” Logan continued, “I thought I’d check out the ’Maine Men meeting. You know, like, if this is all connected to what happened to Margot, I want to help.”
“Of course.”
“And when I heard your speech I thought . . .” He heaved a sigh. “I thought maybe you’d listen to me.”
Ugh. How could she ease Logan’s mind about Olivia without giving away DGM’s secret? “I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.”
“I guess.” Logan hiked his bag up on his shoulder and turned toward the door. “Anyway, thanks for listening.”
“You’re welcome?” Kitty said as he disappeared from the courtyard.
Kitty slowly dialed her locker combination. The Gertler twins were missing? What did that mean? They were the killers? They weren’t the killers? Her head was spinning as she lifted the ’Maine Men shir
t out of her locker and stared at it. As much as she loathed the idea of wearing the thing, she had to admit it put her in a position to help DGM, to help Margot and Bree, and to keep everyone she cared about safe.
That seemed mostly worth it.
“So it’s true.”
Kitty swung around, the blue shirt still gripped in her hands, and found herself face-to-face with Donté. His features were tense, his eyes unusually dark, and Kitty could see anger reflected in his entire body.
“You joined the ’Maine Men?”
Dammit. Had Mika told him? “I can explain,” she began.
“What, you just liked the shirt? It’s a good color on you?”
Kitty had never seen Donté so angry. He was always good-natured and easygoing. She’d never known a harsh word to pass his lips, not even in regard to his ex-girlfriends, or smack-talking basketball players on a rival team. But now he looked at Kitty like she’d just kicked a puppy, and she didn’t like it.
“I know how you feel about the ’Maine Men,” she said, trying to suppress the emotional flutter in her voice and afraid she’d burst into tears at any moment.
“They’re assholes,” Donté said.
“But there’s a reason I’m doing this.”
“Which is?”
Which is I can’t tell you. She couldn’t exactly explain to Donté that she was the person responsible for forming DGM and for carrying out all of their previous exploits. She’d worked so hard to keep her friends and family away from it. If she shared that secret with Donté and Father Uberti found out, he might get kicked out of school and lose any chance at a basketball scholarship. She’d literally be responsible for ruining his life. And so she’d lied to him, kept him in the dark. Even now, when faced with his indignation over the ’Maine Men, she couldn’t bring herself to endanger his future.
“I can’t explain it right now,” she said, dropping her voice. “You’re going to have to trust me.”
“Trust you?”
“Yeah,” Kitty said, taken aback. “Just like I’m supposed to trust you. Isn’t that what you asked me to do?”
Get Dirty (Don't Get Mad Book 2) Page 12