Chapter
Twenty-Nine
Back in the locker room, we were all silent. Perhaps we were still trying to wrap our brains around the fact that nobody showed up for tryouts besides us.
“At least we don’t have to deal with a week-long grueling tryout, like we did freshman year,” Amanda offered, trying to make light of the situation.
She pulled a black, holey t-shirt on, then started slipping back into her jeans.
“Yeah, instead we’ll get to jump straight to the grueling practices,” Dakota said, rolling her eyes.
Sydney headed back to the restrooms while I washed my hands in the sink. I stared at my complexion.
I looked paler than usual, and stressed. At least now maybe Dakota believes me, that it wasn’t me trying to break up her and Andy…although I do still have some feelings for him…
Sydney shouted, breaking up my thoughts. We all looked at each other, rushing to the back stall. I felt an odd familiar feeling…
Sydney stood in front of the same stall Genevieve was found dead in, using her hand to cover her mouth. She pointed.
Hesitantly, I nudged open the bathroom door, revealing a person in the stall.
But it wasn’t a person, at least not a real one.
A life-sized CPR dummy was propped up on the toilet seat. It was missing a nose, just like the real corpse had been…
“Who would do this?” I whispered, my mouth wide open in horror.
Smears of red, obviously paint, splattered on the dummy’s head.
Lauren pointed. “There’s a note.”
There was a note, pinned to where the dummy’s heart was.
I considered waiting until we called the police, but unable to resist, I reached forward and plucked the note from its chest, tearing a tiny hole in it from the pin.
The girls leaned in, all of us reading in unison:
Rebound, rebound!
Score two, three!
If you kiss and tell,
He’ll be with me!
I’m moving toward the basket
Headed for the score
I only hope next time
I can kill a couple more…
Chapter Thirty
Dakota stared at me, her eyes narrowed, accusatory. “You don’t really still think it was me, do ya?” I rolled my eyes at her. So unbelievable!
“Who else could stand to gain something from me kissing Ronnie? Everybody knows you still want Andy!”
“Yeah, but there’s nothing to gain from doing this,” I said, feeling defensive. “Plus, just because I used to like Andy, doesn’t mean I’m trying to steal him from you. Even though he found out about the kiss, he’s not trying to get back with me.” But then I thought about that look he gave me, watching me move across the gym floor…
“It doesn’t even make sense, Dakota. I couldn’t be the sociopath even if I wanted to be…I didn’t go to school here freshman year. Are you forgetting that fact? Whoever did this is the same person who’s been doing all of this. And remember what we said earlier? He or she wants us to point fingers at each other,” I said, backing away from the stall door.
“I’m going to get Coach Davis,” Amanda said, her voice low and face ashen. She’d been the one who found Genevieve last year, and I could tell it was stirring up some of her past trauma.
Without another word, she left the locker room to find the Coach.
Lauren spoke up. “Guys, have we forgotten about Ashleigh Westerfield? Ever since we got back from Tennessee, she and Ronnie have been all over each other. I just saw them yesterday at the mall.”
I thought about that night at the Rainbow Lounge, Ronnie and Ashleigh dancing together. “What’s your point?” I asked, scratching my head.
“Think about it. Ashleigh was involved freshman year. She stuffed Sydney into a locker and later said someone claiming to be Mariella Martin told her to do it. Mariella’s gone, but Ashleigh’s not. Maybe she took the photo of Dakota and Ronnie kissing. You said it was a close up, right? Maybe she and Ronnie planned this together,” she suggested, looking at Sydney for confirmation.
Sydney nodded, tilting her head as she considered where Lauren was going with this.
I was wondering where she was headed too…
“Ashleigh graduated, but she could still be involved. She and Ronnie are dating now, and he’s right out there in the gym. He easily could have put this in here before we even showed up for tryouts today. What better way to go out with a bang—by still torturing us after she leaves?”
It seemed like a plausible idea.
Amanda was back, along with Coach Davis.
Coach pushed herself up to the stall, wincing when she saw the dummy. “Assholes!” she said, shaking her head from side to side. “Girls, it’s probably just a prank. But I’ll still contact Detective Simms. We’ll see what he thinks. After the bombing in Tennessee and everything that happened last year, we can’t be too careful.”
I had to agree with her there.
Coach Davis dismissed us, staying behind with the dummy and calling the police station on her phone.
The five of us left together. The boys playing basketball were gone, the gym consumed with a haunting silence.
“What are we going to do now?” Dakota asked, opening the door to the gym and holding it open for all of us.
“We’re going to go talk to Ashleigh Westerfield—all of us,” said Sydney.
Chapter
Thirty-One
Ashleigh was staying at Mary Margaret’s Home for Girls. I told the girls about our conversation in Tennessee, how she’d admitted she was living in a group home.
“Wow. That’s…sad,” Lauren said. We piled into Dakota’s Cavalier. “Anyone know how to get there?”
I nodded. I did. It was only a few blocks from my house. I gave Dakota directions, and only ten minutes later, we were pulled up in front of the girls’ home.
A former nunnery, it mostly just looked like a big house. We got out slowly, making our way to the front door. I tested my weight on the shoddy porch steps.
“Damn. This place looks like it should be condemned,” Sydney hissed, just as I pressed the bell.
The guy who answered was older than us, but he couldn’t have been older by much. He had thick black glasses and an interesting haircut, one side longer than the other.
“Uh…we’re looking for one of the girls who lives here,” I said, hesitantly.
“I thought only girls lived here. Hence the name ‘Home for Girls,’” Amanda muttered from behind me.
The guy opened the door, grinning. “I don’t live here. I work here part-time. Helping the residents with their chores or schoolwork. It helps pay for the gas in my truck.”
I’d seen a big monster truck parked outside and now we knew who it belonged to.
“We’re looking for Ashleigh Westerfield. May we see her?” Dakota asked.
He seemed happy at the mention of Ashleigh’s name. “Oh. Yes. She would love visitors. Are you guys from the cheer squad?”
“That would be us,” I said, patience growing thin.
“She’ll be excited to know you’re here. Wait here,” he said, leading us to a tiny living room with two recliners and an old fashioned box TV set.
Moments later, Ashleigh emerged, hair damp and looking refreshed.
“Guys!” she squealed, hugging each of us, the moment awkward. “Honestly, I thought I’d never see you guys again. I can’t believe you actually came here to see me,” she said, her hands resting on my shoulders.
I shrugged away from her grasp, offering a crooked smile. Now is the time to tell her we’re here to accuse her of being the sociopath again, I thought nervously.
I looked at the other girls. It’s not going to be me who says it…
Sydney draped her arm around Ashleigh. “Can you go for a walk with us? Maybe talk?”
“Sure!” Ashleigh said. “Just let me tell Rickie first.” I assumed she was referring to the guy with glasses who answere
d the door.
We waited patiently for Ashleigh to return, exchanging worried glances.
“Who’s taking the lead on this?” Lauren whispered, just as Ashleigh popped back in.
“I will,” Dakota said, opening the front door for Ashleigh.
***
“I’m so glad to see you guys.” Ashleigh was grinning, looking happier than ever.
We walked along Planton Street, the sidewalk too narrow to walk side by side. I trailed behind Sydney and Lauren, Dakota and Ashleigh leading the pack.
Even though I lived close by, I’d rarely been down this way. There were other houses lining Planton besides the group home she lived in. Unlike some of the fancier houses in Harrow Hill, these seemed darker, more rundown. Lawns were overgrown, worn out cars in the driveways.
“Now that you’ve graduated, what are your plans, Ashleigh?” Dakota asked, scrunching up her nose at the scenery.
“I actually got a scholarship to Bellmont,” she answered. This news was a surprise to me. Bellmont is one of the most prestigious colleges within a hundred miles of here.
“I didn’t realize your grades were so good,” Dakota said, being her usual rude self. I rolled my eyes.
“That’s great, Ashleigh. Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at me fondly. “I’m working at the Gap in the strip mall, the one in Flocksdale. Saving my money for an apartment near campus,” she added proudly.
Wow. I was truly impressed. “What about you and Ronnie?” I asked.
We stopped as the sidewalk ended, crossed over High Street, and met up with more cracked sidewalk on the other side.
“Oh, we’re nothing serious,” Ashleigh said. “He’s still in high school and I’m going to college. Who knows if we’ll even talk anymore after I start college…now that I’m working and getting ready for school, all the silly high school stuff that meant so much to me seems mundane.”
I exchanged shocked glances with Lauren.
“So, you don’t miss cheerleading? You’re not upset about not still being on the squad?” Dakota pressed.
Ashleigh stopped in front of a small house that used to serve as a business. A faded sign hung over the porch: ‘Scrapbooks and Stamps.’ It seemed to be out of business, or else the owner had given up on replacing the sign.
Ashleigh stared at the old sign, a distant look in her eye. “I’ve always been a little obsessive, I’ll admit. When I was a kid, I found a book of stamps in my parents’ barn. Apparently, it belonged to the previous owner. It was filled with so many stamps, some dating before World War I! But there were still so many empty spaces that were missing stamps. So, from that day forward, I made it my mission to find all of those stamps and fill the book. I used to come here; she would look for the stamps I needed, and try to find them for me. It was everything to me…”
“So, they closed down before you got it filled? I’m sorry,” Sydney said, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
“No, that’s not it,” Ashleigh said. “I did get it filled, but the next year, the lady who ran this place decided to close. I felt bad because once that book was full, I never came to visit or buy stamps.”
What’s the point? I thought, not daring to voice my thoughts.
“The point is,” Ashleigh said, reading my mind. “Sometimes it’s the process of wanting something that drives you, not the act of actually getting it. Once I had them all, I felt accomplished, but it suddenly seemed less important.” She took a moment, like she was gathering her thoughts.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I feel that way about cheerleading too. I wanted to be a cheerleader and I became one. But now I’m ready to focus on something else, something new…”
“Like college and getting an apartment,” I chimed in, smiling.
“Yep,” she said, turning away from the store. “I really need to get back, girls. We eat dinner at six. I hope you guys will come visit me again before I go off to college?”
“Yeah, we will,” we all said.
As we watched her go back inside the rundown group home, we looked at each other, all having the same thought. The sociopath wasn’t Ashleigh Westerfield.
Chapter
Thirty-Two
I thought we were headed back to the school parking lot, but Dakota surprised all of us by whipping into Harrow Hill’s local police station. “Let’s go see what our old friend Detective Simms is up to,” she said, more to herself than us.
We followed her lead, walking into the two story brick building. The girls spent a lot of time in here last year, some of them more than others—being questioned about Genevieve’s murder and the sociopath, but I’d never been inside. I’d met Detective Simms only a couple times—when he came to school after the murder and attacks last year, and once when he came to my home to follow up with all of us.
The building was decrepit, with ugly peeling wallpaper and torn up chairs in the waiting room. The whole place looked like it was falling apart. “I don’t feel too good about anyone who works here solving a crime,” I said as we approached the front desk.
A heavyset woman with glasses and orange hair was reading a magazine and popping gum.
“Excuse me, we’d like to have a chat with Detective Simms,” Dakota told her bluntly.
The woman earmarked the page of her magazine, setting it down on the counter. “He’s bigtime now, didn’t ya hear? He took a job in Washington. The one that’s in D.C.”
We stared at her, then looked at each other in confusion. Detective Simms no longer worked here?
“Who took his place?” I spoke up, peering over the counter.
“Detective Helina Hudson. But she ain’t in now. She was up at the school, investigating some sort of prank.”
***
I never thought we’d be sad to see Detective Simms go, but a new detective in town was surprising. Dakota dropped me off at my car in the school parking lot.
“Hey, there’s her police car,” I said, suddenly spotting it parked near the left side of the building. I pulled up beside it, looking back to see if Dakota had seen it too. She obviously hadn’t because I could see the taillights of her Cavalier as she pulled away, with Lauren, Sydney, and Amanda with her.
I considered texting or calling one of them, telling them to turn around. But then I changed my mind. I’d talk to Detective Helina myself.
But the school was dark, not a light on in the building, it seemed. I tried the front door to the school. Finding it unlocked, I stepped inside, freezing in the front entrance. It sat empty, benches abandoned and the maze of hallways eerily quiet.
“If she’s still here, she’s probably in the gym,” I mumbled. Maybe taking fingerprints from the dummy. But the gym was on the other side of the building, and I’d always hated the dark.
Turning around, I took off outside, running back to my car.
Chapter
Thirty-Three
“What the hell are you making?” I asked, staring at my brother. He was moving around the kitchen, the sink full of utensils and bowls.
“You act like you’ve never seen me cook before,” he said, looking up at me and smiling.
“Not often,” I said, taking a seat at the breakfast bar. I watched my brother glide around the kitchen, gathering eggs, oil, and icing.
“Cupcakes?” I guessed, raising my eyebrows.
“Yep,” he said, digging around for a mixer.
“What’s the occasion?” I picked at a hangnail, my belly grumbling.
“No occasion. Just needed a little sugar, is all.”
I rested my head in my hands, suddenly feeling sleepy. I thought about our visit with Ashleigh. It’d been a total waste of time. I needed a shower. Better yet, I wanted to go for a swim.
But it was dark outside, and I’d probably get eaten up by mosquitoes.
I stood in front of the sliding glass door, my own reflection shining back at me. My makeup was smeared, my hair greasy and matt
ed.
A flash of movement bouncing off the surface of the pool caught my eye. Someone was moving through the darkness, prowling around my yard!
Chapter
Thirty-Four
I slid the door open, taking a few tentative steps toward the pool. Immediately, I saw two figures in the dark, crouched down by the bushes. “What are you doing out there?” I shouted. Jordan was behind me now.
“What’s going on?” he asked, eyes wide.
“Don’t shoot. It’s just me,” Dakota said sarcastically, stepping out of the shadows.
“And me,” said another voice, Amanda popping up behind her.
“What’s going on?” I repeated.
I joined them over by the bushes.
“I got a text message from a blocked number. Well, no message. Just a picture. The same picture Andy got.” Dakota flipped through her messages, finally holding it up for me to see.
“Oh.” I realized what they were doing.
“Whoever took this photo of you all kissing had to be close to snap it,” I said, eyes glazing over at the picture of Dakota and Ronnie kissing in a lawn chair.
Amanda pointed toward the bushes. “I’m pretty sure they were hiding behind here when they took the photo. They might have been hiding and watching you guys hanging out at the pool.”
“So creepy!” I said, shivering.
Amanda crouched behind the bush, holding up her own iPhone. “Go lie on the chair. I want to see if this is the angle.”
I couldn’t help snickering. “Which one of you is Veronica Mars, and which one is Nancy Drew?” I teased.
My brother nudged me. I nudged him back.
Amanda stood up, holding her phone up as proof. “This is where they were hiding,” she said decisively.
Dakota got up from the chair and went behind the bush. “I wonder if they left any clues,” she said, getting on her hands and knees.
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