The downstairs fell silent as I made my way into the kitchen.
Never a good sign.
Just as I feared, Mom was sitting perched at one of the high stools with a full cup of coffee in her hands. By six o’clock, she was always a woman on the go, and the fact that she was sitting still only meant one thing: I was in trouble.
“Morning,” I said, cautiously coming into the kitchen.
She stared down at me pointedly over the brim of her reading glasses. “Care to explain something?”
“I learned all about Nonlinear Fubini’s Theoremin in Calculus last week, so if you’re interested in expanding your knowledge…” My attempt at a smile faltered as she glared back at me.
“Reese Blackburn.”
Oh, crap.
Had she seen him leave here last night?
Did she think we’d been doing…something?
“I ran into Mrs. Ashford while I was on my run this morning. Word is that you and Mr. Blackburn have gotten awfully chummy as of late. Is this true?”
“We’re talking,” I admitted.
The glasses came off, and I instinctively cowered back. “Have you been listening to anything I’ve said? I’m running for president of the Woodstone Regency Society, and now you decide to befriend the boy who’s written how many defaming articles about all their children?” She slammed her coffee mug on the countertop so hard I was surprised it didn’t shatter on impact.
Double crap.
It wasn’t exactly a shocker that Reese hadn’t made any friends in Mystic Harbor, and the school paper certainly didn’t help. But he didn’t mind either, as he was the only one who actually called out certain individuals for abusing certain privileges. Like how some teachers were fudging grades for certain athletes so they had the GPA to play. Or how students were buying the answers to last year’s Biology final after a certain cheerleader ‘stumbled upon’ a loose copy. Of course, nothing ever seemed to happen to the offenders, but it was gratifying to at least see someone airing their dirty deeds. Despite how much I wanted to punch him before, I always admired how Reese refused to be a cog in the Mystic Harbor machine.
“In his defense, his articles really aren’t defaming if they’re true,” I countered.
“Katrina-”
“What? The children of your beloved Woodstone Regency Society have done a whole hell of a lot worse than write a couple honest articles, and you’ve never objected to me hanging out with any of them. If anything, they’re the bad seeds, and you’ve been practically throwing me at them since we moved here.”
“That boy is trouble.” Mom rubbed her eyebrows, trying to regain her composure. “Maybe your father’s right.”
“…About?”
“After everything that’s happened here, perhaps it would be best if you returned to Stewart’s Landing for the remainder of your senior year.”
“Mom…no.”
“It might do you some good, to be somewhere where people aren’t talking.” With every excuse she listed off, my stomach clenched tighter and tighter. This wasn’t about me. Not for my wellbeing anyway. This was about putting a stop to the problems I’d inadvertently caused her.
No, no, no, no. I couldn’t leave. Not now. I’d lost everything. My parents, Adam, Mr. Reynolds. They’d all abandoned me when I needed them the most, and just when I had found myself a new family at the academy, they robbed me of that as well. It wasn’t that I’d hate returning to Stewart’s Landing. I still had great friends who went there. It had become my home. What made me sick was the all too familiar pit in my stomach that forced me to acknowledge my greatest fear. Did my parents really not care? The first time they sent me away, it had been for my own good. The academy gave me opportunities my parents couldn’t provide for me at the time. But that wasn’t the problem anymore.
It didn’t matter how hard I tried. It didn’t matter that I left all my friends without objection. It didn’t matter that I spent the last fifteen months bending over backwards to make everyone happy. It didn’t matter that I studied more hours at night than I slept to ensure I’d get perfect grades. It didn’t matter that I stomached this nauseating social scene without protest. One slipup, and I was as disposable to them as a used dishrag.
“We just need things to calm down around here. What I’m trying to do is for everyone’s best interest,” Mom kept assuring. “With people like the Marins as friends, your father and I will have the clout to get you into whatever college you want-”
“And at what price?” I finally snapped. “You treat people like Reese as if they’re trash, but you’ve never bothered looking past your own snobbery. He’s a good person. I’d rather be on the wrong side of the tracks than have to sell my dignity to the highest bidder.” My stomach was growling something fierce, but I buried the hunger down as I slung my book bag over my shoulder and stormed out of the kitchen.
Mom’s heels clacked right behind me as she continued in her rant, cutting in front of me before I made it to the foyer. “You are not to see him again.”
As if on cue, the front doorbell rang. I stole a nervous glance at the clock. It was only five to seven. Reese wasn’t seriously here…was he?
Mom cast me one last cautionary stare before answering. Long blonde hair and a breezy canary yellow dress lit up the porch, and Mom immediately straightened up.
“Hi, Mrs. Montgomery.” Carly said it sweetly enough, but there was hesitation in her delivery. She’d clearly overheard the conversation.
I could have tackled the girl with a hug as I pushed past Mom. “I have to get to school. Try not to pack my bags while I’m gone.”
My mother would never dare keep the fight going so long as company was around, and I happily took my exit, slamming the front door behind me.
“What’s up?” I asked, making my getaway down the driveway.
She bit her lower lip, only on the right side. A telltale sign she was nervous. “I just wanted to say I was sorry.”
“Sorry?” I knew I’d been a bit preoccupied as of late, but had I really not realized we’d been fighting?
“We were all talking last night about some things.” She winced. “And then taking into account what happened with the photo yesterday, it kind of hit me how insensitive we’ve been. You went through a lot, and I know I’ve been critical of you, rather than supportive. I mean, it’s your business what you choose to do, with Blackburn or otherwise.”
“Ah…thanks.” Like Kelsey, it was the last thing I expected to hear from her.
“It’s just…you’ve also been acting really weird, too. You know you can talk to me, Kat. About anything.”
“There’s just a lot going on right now, stuff I can’t explain.”
Carly cocked a groomed eyebrow at me as we came to a stop at the curbside. Yeah, this girl wouldn’t be taking no for an answer.
She knew how to keep her wits when she needed to, but believability right now wasn’t my greatest ally. And the fact made my heart sink. Car was my best friend, for better or for worst. Not being able to tell her anything wasn’t helping anyone. It just put more distance between us. I missed confiding in her.
“Whatever’s going on, I might be able to help,” she further insisted. “I’m a good listener.”
“It’s complicated,” I muttered.
She folded her arms, leaning against the streetlight. “And I’ve got time.”For you.
“I’m being stalked, for starters.”
Her mouth dropped. “Excuse me?”
“I’ve been getting creepy text messages from an unknown number. Plus, some freak in a hoodie is following me around. I already tried talking to the cops, but they refuse to hear me out.”
“Excuse me?” Car blurted again. “Your life has turned into an episode of Criminal Minds, and I’m only hearing about it now? What the frack, girl?”
“You can’t say anything,” I pleaded.
“Say anything? Why aren’t we doing anything?”
“What do you mean?”
“This is epic! Like, primetime drama.” A huge smile burst across her face. “We need to start sleuthing, researching, investigating!”
I laughed, more out of disbelief. “You’re excited by stalkers, and I’m the one who’s weird?”
“What can I say? Morbid curiosity. But anyway, get a move on,” she beckoned, pulling me towards her car. “We can start plotting our investigation on the way to school.”
“I…uh, already have a ride,” I winced, hearing the low grumble of the old beater before the truck even came into sight.
Carly’s eyes widened as Reese pulled up to the curb, but she clamped her mouth shut and nodded. “Have room for one more?”
Reese gawked at Carly for a long moment like she was an alien life form. “Sorry?”
“Can. I. Join. You?” she pronounced, deliberately slow. If she had any reservations, she clearly wasn’t showing it. In fact, there was a teasing quality in her voice.
Reese gave me a sideways glance and laughed under his breath. “Just when I thought things couldn’t get scarier.”
After the events of last night, from the hooded stalker in the parking lot to that kiss in the kitchen, I had actually been dreading the ride, knowing full well of the awkward silence that would ensue. And that’s precisely why Carly wound up being a godsend for the second time this morning. So long as she was around, there was no such thing as quiet. Reese’s truck only had one row of seats, but it was more of a cushioned bench, which allowed all three of us to sit up front. And it didn’t go ignored by either Reese or me as our thighs brushed against one another’s as I took my place in the middle. We both stiffened. Yeah, this was going to be awkward regardless.
By the time we made it to Main Street, Carly had already come up with our sleuthing team nickname, which apparently was “BLT,” as in Bacon, Lettuce, and Tomato. I wasn’t sure who was supposed to be who…or how the hell that had anything to do with sleuthing, but I was too afraid to ask.
“Oh, could you stop here?” asked Carly as we turned onto the side street leading to the school. “I know we’re a team now, but a girl does have to save face. No offense, but the guys would never let me hear the end of it if I rolled up with you two stone-cold weirdos.” She was still giddy as she hopped out of the cabin.
Reese just shook his head.
“She takes some getting used to,” I chuckled.
“You might as well join her,” he sighed, tossing on a black fedora.
“Reese-”
He shrugged. “What? I’m just afraid she might forget where she’s going. Not sure if you noticed during our delightful drive just now, but she’s kind of A.D.D. The girl might wind up at the mall if you leave her unattended.”
“I can still hear you!” called out Car from the sidewalk.
“I intended you to,” Reese shot back.
“On that note…” I climbed out and joined Carly as she waved a dismissive, perfectly polished hand at him.
“I swear if my phone rings again…” Carly growled, prying the device out of her purse. The damn thing had been vibrating nonstop as it sat between us during the entire car ride.
At the same time, I could feel mine go off. It appeared both of our phones had been guilty, because thirty new text messages had flooded into my cell over the past ten minutes. We didn’t need to open them. The moment we rounded the bend to the front of the school, we had our answer. Spotlights, camera crews, reporters, police cars, and men in blue drenched the entire entrance. The chaos of everyone trying to talk above the commotion only made it harder to understand what anyone was saying.
“Déjà voodoo,” muttered Car. She had told me all about the media hype surrounding the Hersey bus disappearance, and this looked like a snapshot right out of her retelling. Only worse.
Chapter 19
The Kill
Brutality.
Carnage.
Horror.
They were just the handful of words I managed to make out amongst the clamor. Carly’s fingers interlocked with mine as her other hand clamped itself around my arm. Any amusement she had a moment ago was gone. We pushed our way through the throng of people, and we were forced to duck as one of those microphone boom poles whizzed past us from an eager film crew member.
I shuddered, seeing Channel 5’s Rebecca Weathers standing in front of the steps leading into the building with a camera primed right on her. She’d done more than her fair share covering my accident, implying on more than one occasion that I was likely under the influence of an unspecified substance. Even now I wanted to punch in those fake porcelain teeth of hers.
“The body of seventeen-year-old Casey Ann Radley was discovered late last night by her neighbor in Griffin Park. Authorities are baffled by the lack of motive, as we’ve just learned that the young woman slain last night was drained of blood and then dumped not a block from her house. This town is in shock and nobody can quite believe the grisly nature of this crime, although this is not the first time this small community has endured such heartbreak. Only weeks ago was another student, high school senior Blaine Ryder, killed in a devastating car accident just outside Prescott Hills.” The reporter paused, motioning to the light pole beside her where numerous missing persons’ flyers had been taped. “And as you can see, there remains this constant reminder of the tragic disappearance of 21 teenage county residents…”
Carly squeezed my arm tighter as I looked to see Brittany’s weather-worn paper portrait clinging pitifully to the rounded metal. But her face wasn’t the only one that caught my attention. My blood ran cold.
Despite the madness brewing outside, it still paled in comparison to the pandemonium ensuing in the hallways. Some girls were crying while others were gossiping about all the possible ways Casey could had been murdered.
“I bet it was that freak, Blackburn,” snarled Ava Ashford. “He probably had to use her as a virgin sacrifice…since someone else we know clearly couldn’t be it.” She cast me a pointed glare.
“Like you’re one to talk,” growled Carly. “We all know you’re a whore of more than attention.”
Malice flashed in the cheerleader’s eyes, but she merely smirked. “Says the girl who’s been ridden more than a carnival pony.”
Carly suddenly sprang forward, nearly tackling Ava before Daniel snatched her up by the waist and pulled her back.
“Whoa! Down, girl.” He towed her to the other end of the hall, refusing to release her till she calmed down. “As much as we’d all love to see a catfight, this really isn’t the place for it.”
Carly finally ripped out of his hold, seeing several cops making their way towards us.
“Ms. Montgomery,” greeted one of the men as they passed by.
“Officer Blake,” I gritted through clenched teeth.
He smirked, following the others into the principal’s office.
“You know him?” asked Daniel.
“We’ve met. And I can guarantee you, if his sleuthing skills are anything like what I’ve witnessed, they’ll have about as much luck finding Casey’s killer as they will Jimmy Hoffa.”
I kept my eye out for Reese, but didn’t cross paths with him as Car and I made our way to the art room. Mark was already there, lying across one of the back tables. His eyes remained shut as he air-drummed to what we realized was Drowning Pool’s “Bodies” as we approached the tableside.
“Perhaps not the most appropriate song of choice, considering the circumstances,” remarked Car, prying one of the buds from his ear. “You know, with the murder, and all.”
Mark blindly fished inside his pocket for his phone, his smirk unrelenting as he switched songs and unplugged his headphones. Sure enough, My Chemical Romance’s “Helena” filled the room.
Carly swatted him in the chest. “You’re going to Hell.”
“At least I’ve earned my stripes,” he chuckled, his eyes still closed.
“Perhaps you’d like to earn some extra credit as well, Mr. McDowell,” announced Mrs. Brightberry, slamming a
n armful of boxes down beside his head. “Heaven knows you could use it.” By her pinched expression, she’d clearly overheard the exchange, still scowling at the music blaring throughout the class.
Mark finally opened his eyes as a wound up section of decorative string lights plopped down on his stomach. “It’s a little early to deck out a Christmas tree, isn’t it?”
“It’s for Homecoming,” corrected our art teacher. “And unless you wish to sit out Friday’s big game, you’ll take up my offer.”
This earned Mark’s attention, as he snapped upright like a vampire springing free from its coffin. “Come again?”
“You’re very well aware of our policy regarding one’s GPA, Mr. McDowell. Since you have more of an affinity for slacking off rather than actually putting in any effort, your grade in here reflects it.” Mrs. Brightberry pointed to the small stack of boxes piled in the opposite corner. “All the supplies for the Homecoming dance are being stored in the old weightlifting room. If you want the necessary boost in your grade, you’ll go up there and bring the remaining supplies back down here.”
Mark rolled his eyes, but he didn’t dare make any further fuss. He knew he’d be screwed if she pulled the offer off the table. “Fine.”
Carly and I volunteered to help, knowing full well that Mark would lose all motivation if left alone. We quickly learned that Mrs. Brightberry made you work for every ounce of extra credit. The old weightlifting room was on the third story, whereas the art room was stationed on the far side of the first. By our eighth trip back upstairs, we were exhausted. Car and I plopped down on an old weightlifting bench as Mark tried to prove his testosterone level by doing chin-ups on one of the few pullup bars across the way. The room was long and thin, lined wholly with mirrors on one side of the wall. It probably would have smelled as foul as the current weightlifting room if not for the homemade lilac-scented candles Mrs. Brightberry had brought in to freshen up the place.
Insidious: (The Marked Mage Chronicles, Book 1) Page 19