No, she couldn’t believe it. This Tammi Barnes was a different person than the one Bree had known in high school. And Bree was willing to bet her life that Tammi wasn’t a killer.
“Look,” she said at last. “Everyone in the area who’s been a victim of DGM is either dead or missing.”
Tammi’s face clouded. “And you felt the need to warn me, right? Out of the goodness of your heart?”
“Tammi,” Bree said, the sting of her words hitting hard. “I just want you to be careful. Whoever is doing this is . . .” Insane? Relentless? “Dangerous.”
Instead of a look of fear or concern passing over her face, a slow grin crept up her cheeks. “I know what dangerous is,” she said in a raspy voice that made the hairs on the back of Bree’s neck stand up at attention. “And you don’t have a clue.” Then she turned and disappeared around the corner.
Okay. So maybe Bree had been wrong.
A horn blared as Olaf screeched the black SUV to a halt beside her. “Get in car!” he bellowed. “Does Olaf need to carry you?”
“No.” Bree opened the door and climbed into the backseat.
“That better.”
“Olaf,” she said, “I need you to follow that girl I was just talking to. She went down Maple. Can you—”
Olaf pulled away from the curb and blew past Maple Street so fast Bree couldn’t even catch a glimpse of any pedestrians.
“What the hell?” she said, grappling with her seat belt. “I need to find out where she went.”
“Home,” Olaf said.
“It’s a matter of life and death.”
But instead of his usually quick response, Olaf paused this time and snuck a glance at her over his shoulder. For a split second, she thought the big beast would show some humanity for once and throw her a bone.
“Olaf have orders,” he said instead.
“Yeah,” Bree muttered, slumping in his seat. “I bet you do.”
But as he sped off toward home, his eyes fixed on traffic, Bree slipped John’s cell phone from her bra and sent a quick, silent text.
Time for plan B.
THIRTY-TWO
OLIVIA FIDGETED UNCONTROLLABLY AS SHE SAT IN THE bleachers. This was the third all-school assembly in a month. The last two had been showstoppers: first DGM’s prank against Coach Creed, then Bree turning herself in with the whole school and half the Menlo Park Police Department in attendance. And today? Today would be no different.
Well, slightly different. Olivia scanned the bleachers as the last of the students and teachers filed into the gym. Instead of bursting at the seams as it usually did with the entire student body crammed inside, today the Bishop DuMaine gym was barely half-full. Three deaths had been enough for most parents, and almost the entire freshman and sophomore classes, plus a smattering of upperclassmen, hadn’t shown up for school.
No matter. There were enough eyes watching for what Olivia had planned.
She swallowed, and recrossed her legs for the billionth time. Was this going to work? Or were they about to make another colossal blunder?
“What’s wrong with you?” Jezebel asked. “You’re so jumpy.”
“Have you seen Amber?” Olivia asked by way of an answer.
“Nope.”
Where is she? Olivia reached into her tote bag, searching for her phone, when she remembered it wasn’t there. Part of the new security measures on campus. Since both Rex’s video and Amber’s photo montage made the rounds online, where every student with access to the internet in the palm of their hand could stream them in a matter of seconds, Father Uberti had banned all portable cellular and wireless devices from campus. First thing that morning, all Bishop DuMaine students had been greeted by uniformed police officers, who confiscated phones and tablets and forced everyone to open their mouths and give a DNA swab sample. Olivia was pretty sure that violated a half-dozen First Amendment rights, but whatever. She’d managed to stash her phone in Peanut’s car, and she just hoped that Kitty and Ed had managed to stash theirs before the cops bagged them.
Olivia shifted her body again, eliciting an irritated grumble from Jezebel, then her attention was drawn to the far side of the gym as Kyle and Tyler marched through the door. They wore matching black armbands over their blue ’Maine Men polo shirts, a tribute to their fallen comrade. They’d been handing out the armbands around campus all morning, and much to Olivia’s horror, the gesture had spread like wildfire. Their fellow ’Maine Men wore them, of course, but others had joined in. Rex Cavanaugh was more feared than revered at Bishop DuMaine, but in the end, he was one of them. And he had been viciously murdered.
Father Uberti arrived next, followed by a half-dozen priests. Representatives from the archdiocese. Two of them wore the same black hooded cassocks as old F.U., with matching cinctures around their waists. Must be members of his order. The rest wore the usual black pants and jackets with stiff white collars around their necks.
Father Uberti walked more slowly than usual, and his air lacked its usual cocky self-importance. His shoulders sagged, and he stroked his beard with an almost manic energy. For the first time in Olivia’s high school career, Father Uberti looked insecure.
He took the microphone with a heavy sigh. “I will assume by the marked drop in attendance,” he began unceremoniously, “that news of Mr. Cavanaugh’s death has been made public.”
He paused briefly, and Olivia noted the total silence in the gym.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Father Uberti continued.
Jezebel nudged Olivia’s arm and nodded toward the door. “There she is.”
Olivia turned and saw Amber in the doorway, her perfect spiral curls framed in the morning sunshine. She stepped into the gym and Olivia could see that her face was turning red, her body tense and clenched as if she was barely containing her rage. Her eyes swept the bleachers, searching. Then they landed on Olivia.
“You bitch!” she roared. Every head in the gym turned toward Amber as she extended her arm, pointing at Olivia. “This is your fault.”
Olivia looked behind her, as if Amber could possibly be referring to someone else. “What did I do?”
Amber stormed to the middle of the gym floor. “Don’t act like you don’t know!”
Olivia stood up and held her hands in front of her as she walked down the wooden stairs. “I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Amber met her at the base of the steps. “Don’t you?”
“No, I—”
Amber’s hand came out of nowhere, smacking Olivia cleanly on the cheek. The sting rippled through her flesh and stars shot in front of her eyes from the force of the strike. The students in the gym let out a collective gasp.
“Miss Stevens!” Father Uberti cried into the microphone. “How dare you strike another student.”
But Amber wasn’t listening. “I know the photos came from you. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Olivia righted herself, her palm pressed to her cheek. “I had nothing to do with it, Amber.”
“That’s not what I heard.”
“Miss Hayes, Miss Stevens!” Father Uberti sounded helpless. “Take your seats this instant.”
“Then you heard wrong,” Olivia shouted back. “I didn’t even know you went to fat camp.”
That was the tipping point, apparently. Olivia watched with some satisfaction as Amber’s face turned bright red, her lips pulled tight against her teeth. Then, without warning, she hurled herself at Olivia, arms stretched toward her neck.
Olivia hit the hardwood floor, and rolled over, then under, Amber, locked in a death grip. She landed on top of her former best friend, both sandals lost in the melee, dress hiked up to her hips.
The crowd cheered as if they were in the gym for a basketball game instead of an assembly, and their fervor seemed to spur Amber on. She screamed and lunged for a fistful of Olivia’s pixie-short hair, managing only a half inch or so of length, then yanked Olivia off her. Olivia lashed out with her arms as she tumbled
over, and caught Amber’s head with her elbow. Amber howled and reared back, releasing Olivia’s hair, and she was able to scramble to her feet. Olivia lunged at Amber, still hunched on all fours, but a hand was around her waist, pulling her away.
“What the fuck is your problem?” she screamed at Amber, straining against Kyle’s arm.
Tyler plucked Amber off the ground and pinned her arms behind her back. “You’re my problem,” she yelled. “I hate you.”
“I hate you too!”
Father Uberti stormed across the gym, the priests from the archdiocese following in his wake. “What in the name of God is wrong with you two?”
Amber went limp in Tyler’s arms. “She started it.”
“Me?” Olivia gasped. “She attacked me, Father Uberti. Unprovoked.”
“Unprovoked my ass.” Amber turned to the priest. “She told DGM about the photos of me.”
Olivia narrowed her eyes, struggling against Kyle. “I have no idea what she’s talking about.”
“You want to find DGM?” Amber pointed directly at Olivia. “Ask her.”
Father Uberti’s eyes trailed from Amber to Olivia. “In my office. Both of you.”
“No,” Amber said, her voice strong but calm. “You know what, Father Uberti? No, I won’t go to your office.” She wiggled herself free of Tyler’s grasp. “I’m going home.”
And without another word, she stormed out of the gym.
THIRTY-THREE
KITTY SLOUCHED LOW IN THE DRIVER’S SEAT, KEY READY AND waiting in the ignition, and watched the side door of the school.
“You sure this is going to work?” John asked from the back.
“No.”
“Awesome.”
She didn’t elaborate. Kitty’s stomach was already doing backflips, and she didn’t need to be reminded that plan B wasn’t exactly the most well-thought-out strategy in the history of secret missions.
Before she had time to further worry herself into an ulcer, the school door flew open and Amber raced down the stairs to the parking lot. Her face was beet red, her blouse disheveled, hair a tangled mess. It looked as if Amber had been in one hell of a catfight.
“You should see the other guy,” John mumbled.
A squeal of tires pierced the silence of the parking lot, and before Kitty could even turn over the ignition in her old Camry, Amber had peeled her Mercedes out of the lot.
Seconds later, the “other guy” appeared as Olivia scampered down the stairs. Like Amber, her clothes were in disarray and her pixie-short curls a rat’s nest. She hurried to Kitty’s car and climbed daintily into the front seat.
“How did it go?” Kitty asked.
A satisfied smile lit up Olivia’s delicate features. “It was amazing.”
Kitty held up her hand and gave Olivia an enthusiastic high five.
“It was the best acting performance Amber’s ever given,” Olivia added. “By far.”
“Yeah,” John said, “because she wasn’t really acting.”
Kitty grinned. “Neither was Olivia.”
It had been remarkably easy to get Amber onboard with the plan . . . as long as John was involved. Kitty had approached Kyle and Tyler with the idea before school, doubling down on her new position as leader of the ’Maine Men. She suggested they go on the offensive and try to catch the killer themselves, then laid out the plan to use Amber as bait.
Meanwhile, John recruited Amber via text, playing up his concern over her safety, and his wish that they could do something about it. He’d even managed to get Amber to suggest the staged catfight herself.
To Kyle, Tyler, and Amber, today’s plan seemed to be their idea. No one suspected DGM at all.
Not bad for a morning’s work.
“Stay with her,” Olivia advised. She fumbled with her seat belt as she tried to put it on. “But not, you know, too close.”
“Fly casual?” John suggested.
Olivia glanced back at John. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”
“Nope,” John said.
“Stay on target,” Kitty said as she released the parking brake. John and Bree weren’t the only ones who knew Star Wars by heart.
In the rearview mirror, she saw John nodding in approval. “Nice one.”
“It’s like you’re speaking a language I don’t understand,” Olivia said.
John leaned forward. “How can you not understand the best movie trilogy ever made?”
“American Pie?” Olivia asked.
John shook his head in bewilderment. “I don’t think I can talk to you right now.”
“Good.” Olivia turned back around. “Can we hurry up and catch Amber?”
Kitty gritted her teeth as she sped after Amber’s black Mercedes coupe, trying to ignore Olivia’s nonstop stream of passenger-seat driving. Run that light. She’s switching lanes. Watch that pedestrian. You’re too far behind. Now you’re too close.
“Why do we have to tail her, Kojak?” John asked as they sped through an intersection, barely avoiding a red light. “Haven’t you been to her house like a million times?”
Kitty saw Olivia’s body tense up. “I don’t want anything to happen to her.”
John snorted. “Between school and here?”
The light mood of a few moments ago had evaporated. Kitty knew exactly why Olivia was so worried, and she needed John to understand that the risk factor here was very, very real. She caught his eye in the mirror as they stopped at a light. “Remember what he’s capable of.”
Amber was four or five cars ahead of them when the light turned green. According to Olivia’s directions, Amber should have turned at the intersection, but instead, she kept going straight.
“What’s she doing?” Kitty asked.
Olivia bit the inside of her lower lip. “I don’t know. Stay with her, though.”
Kitty followed the line of cars, her eyes peeled for the shiny black coupe in case Amber realized she’d missed her turn and flipped a bitch in the middle of the street. They’d gone almost a mile before Amber veered off the road into the Coffee Clash parking lot.
“She wants a latte?” John asked as Amber hurried up the steps and into the coffeehouse. “Now?”
“An iced triple-shot nonfat vanilla soy latte with two Splenda,” Olivia corrected.
“This is ridiculous.” Kitty pulled into a spot at the far end of the mini-mall and looked around. There were three other cars in the lot, plus a silver SUV at a meter in front. It was pretty deserted for a Friday afternoon, and Kitty could see through the glass doors into the café, where Amber was paying for her drink.
“At least we know no one’s following her,” Olivia said. “That’s something.”
Kitty pursed her lips. “I guess.”
Two minutes later, Amber strolled out of the café, iced coffee concoction in hand, and rolled her car out of the lot. Without a word, Kitty followed, again leaving a few cars between them. They’d gone three blocks before Kitty noticed a car close behind them. The same silver SUV that had been parked in front of the Coffee Clash.
Amber pulled into the left turn lane, but instead of following her, Kitty switched lanes to the right, keeping an eye on the SUV. She was probably imagining things, but she just wanted to make sure they weren’t being followed.
“What are you doing?” Olivia asked as they passed Amber’s car.
Kitty glanced at the rearview mirror. “Checking something.”
Olivia twisted in her seat and stared out the back window. “Is someone following us?”
“I don’t know,” Kitty answered. The SUV hadn’t followed them into the new lane. They drove a few more blocks in tense silence, then Kitty let out a slow breath. “I think we’re fine.”
Olivia relaxed back into her seat. “Thank God.”
Kitty made a U-turn at the next intersection and headed back toward Amber’s house.
“Was it the silver SUV you were worried about?” John asked from the backseat.
“Yeah,” Kitty said. “W
hy?”
“Because it just made a U-turn to follow us.”
“Are you sure?” Olivia asked.
Without waiting for an answer, Kitty slammed on the accelerator. The aging engine strained, the RPMs rocketing into the red zone. She zigzagged around cars, weaving in and out of lanes like a race-car driver. If the SUV was actually following them, he’d have to match her speed and her course. To her horror, she saw the SUV accelerate rapidly, and whiz around several cars in an attempt to keep up with her.
“Shit.”
“Oh my God!” Olivia cried. “It’s him!”
Whether or not the killer who’d been terrorizing them for weeks was, at that very moment, tailing them through the streets of Menlo Park, Kitty couldn’t say for sure. There was a logical argument against it, but at the moment, the logical-argument part of her brain wasn’t working. Just the panic reflex.
“Can you get the license plate?” Kitty asked.
John spun around in his seat. “Looks like California, but I can’t get digits. He’s too far away.”
“Dammit!”
Kitty scanned the road ahead, looking for an escape route. Her eyes landed on a large delivery truck in the far right lane two blocks ahead.
“Hang on!” she said. The engine roared as Kitty coaxed even more speed out of the old Camry. They careened through a yellow light, then just as she passed the truck, she zipped in front of him, slammed on the brakes, and made a dangerous right turn onto a side street. With any luck, their pursuer had lost sight of them for a split second when Kitty pulled in front of the truck, and didn’t see her turn off the main road.
Foot back on the accelerator, she raced through the suburban neighborhood, praying no one stepped into the street, then turned into someone’s driveway and cut the engine.
“Everybody down!” she ordered.
Seat belts off, Kitty and Olivia crouched low in the front seat while John flattened himself in the back.
Get Dirty (Don't Get Mad Book 2) Page 17