Bryce frowned.
I stayed quiet.
“What are you talking about?” Holster asked just as Tatum approached the group.
“They said that a kid found her this morning. Some kid who cleaned here.”
“Yeah, that’d make sense. That’s the Donadeli kid, right? Doesn’t he have, like, eight jobs or something?”
Corrigan lit up and exclaimed, “Sheldon, you can get the info from him. The kid’s in love with you.”
I shook my head, numb, and took an instinctual step backwards. “I don’t want to have anything to do with it.”
I moved back again and walked into Bryce. He slid an arm around my waist and anchored me to him.
Corrigan nodded as he searched my face. And he dropped it, just like that.
Becky broke the slight silence and murmured, “I think school’s out for the week.”
Carlos nodded and remarked, “They’ll probably do a community curfew.”
“Two students murdered and the last one was found in the school,” Mandy noted.
“I think they have good reason.”
Chantal sidled next to Bryce and slid a finger down his arm.
Bryce’s arm tightened around me and he shifted, just slightly, so that Chantal needed to step back unless she wanted to be in my face instead. It was subtle, but it spoke volumes. Chantal registered the movement and masked her irritation quickly, but everyone else seemed to be oblivious.
Another lull settled over our group when I looked up and realized that their eyes were on us, on Bryce, myself, and Corrigan.
In that moment, I remembered with a chill what the second note had read.
Queen of Geneva disregarded her lowly subjects. To the grave they went and more to come.
In that moment, I realized—more than at any other time—I held the crown and reigned with Bryce and Corrigan at my elbow.
Mandy spoke up, and it took a moment before I realized that she addressed me, “So what now?”
“What?” I bristled, irritated at the sudden proclamation of my power. I felt the full force in that moment and I knew that I didn’t want it. I didn’t want any of it. I wanted Bryce. I wanted Corrigan. And I wanted to be left alone.
That’s all I wanted.
And I wanted Leisha’s murderer to fry.
Bryce spoke up for me, “If no one’s told us what to do, we should all just leave.
Go to the Diner or something.”
“Or go and get drunk,” Corrigan commented, no joke.
“That too.” Bryce faintly grinned at him.
Evans spoke up, “Ya’ll can come over to my place. My parents aren’t getting back from their trip until tomorrow. We could have one more todo dia festival.”
Becky grinned ruefully, “Two girls are dead and we’re going to party?”
“Do you really care? You didn’t even know them,” Harris threw back at her.
Becky shrugged, uncomfortable, as she glanced over her shoulder to Carlos, their hands had been entwined, but they broke free at that moment.
What the hell?
“Yeah, well, we care,” Corrigan said sharply. “So show some respect.”
Harris straightened abruptly and fell silent. He looked away.
Becky sobered instantly.
“But…” Corrigan heaved a sigh. “Bryce is right. There’s nothing that we can do and it’s not like we’re going to have school. I’m not going to some mandatory peace talk and listen to the sheriff talk about buddy systems.”
Chet asked, “So what?”
“I don’t know. Go to the Diner.” Corrigan shrugged and pulled me from Bryce.
He started walking back towards the parking lot and Bryce followed.
It was an odd moment and an odd feeling.
As we crossed the separation again, I noticed that too many watched as we left.
Pensive, desperation, hysteria, somber, and bitterness filled so many of their eyes as they watched us walk across and get into Bryce’s car.
I’d never noticed the apparent social isolation before, not during a crowded hallway as students buzzed from locker to locker, but in that moment…I saw it all too clear and I realized what had been invisible became visible. And another chill upon so many slammed over me. The social hierarchy may have reared its ugly head to create a deadly monster.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Everyone else was told to go to the Diner, but our crew went to my home. We hadn’t been there long when the doorbell rang. I waited, my breath suspended, but I wasn’t sure why. I hadn’t had much luck with people coming over to my home lately.
Sighing, I opened the door, grateful as the rest stayed in the kitchen when I found myself face to face with Officer Sheila. She was alone, no hatred-spewing partner.
“Hi,” I said tightly as Sheila nodded, gravely.
“Can we talk?” she asked.
I nodded and shut the door behind as I moved outside.
Sheila lounged on the porch railing as I sat in one of the wicker chairs. “Quite a morning, huh?”
I just waited. She was here for a reason and I knew it.
Sheila took a deep breath and told me, flat, “He left another note for you. This time, we got it first without your friends’ prints all over it.”
I readied myself.
Sheila added, promptly, “And it’s got your boy’s prints on it.”
“My boy? I have a lot of boys.”
“Not the boyfriend. The sidekick.”
I laughed and shook my head, “Corrigan would never call himself a sidekick.
You’re lucky he didn’t hear you or you’d probably come home to a trashed garage or something.”
“He gets like that, huh? He’s got a temper?”
I bared my teeth, “You know he does because of his history. Yes, Corrigan can do some stupid crap, but there’s no way you’re going to tell me that he’s the psycho stalker.”
“Funny,” Sheila remarked, emotionless. “I never said that at all. You did.”
“It was implied and I’m not hearing any more of it.”
“What if he is?” she pressed, heartless. “What if your boy in there is the monster who’s killed two girls? Miss Summers was raped. Miss Umbridge was not. Maybe your boy had already been appeased. He’s got his fair share of girls, doesn’t he? Makes you wonder—why Leisha Summers? Why rape her and not her friend?”
I stayed quiet.
“What are you talking about?” Holster asked just as Tatum approached the group.
“They said that a kid found her this morning. Some kid who cleaned here.”
“Yeah, that’d make sense. That’s the Donadeli kid, right? Doesn’t he have, like, eight jobs or something?”
Corrigan lit up and exclaimed, “Sheldon, you can get the info from him. The kid’s in love with you.”
I shook my head, numb, and took an instinctual step backwards. “I don’t want to have anything to do with it.”
I moved back again and walked into Bryce. He slid an arm around my waist and anchored me to him.
Corrigan nodded as he searched my face. And he dropped it, just like that.
Becky broke the slight silence and murmured, “I think school’s out for the week.”
Carlos nodded and remarked, “They’ll probably do a community curfew.”
“Two students murdered and the last one was found in the school,” Mandy noted.
“I think they have good reason.”
Chantal sidled next to Bryce and slid a finger down his arm.
Bryce’s arm tightened around me and he shifted, just slightly, so that Chantal needed to step back unless she wanted to be in my face instead. It was subtle, but it spoke volumes. Chantal registered the movement and masked her irritation quickly, but everyone else seemed to be oblivious.
Another lull settled over our group when I looked up and realized that their eyes were on us, on Bryce, myself, and Corrigan.
In that moment, I remembered with a chill what the second note had read.
Queen of Geneva disregarded her lowly subjects. To the grave they went and more to come.
In that moment, I realized—more than at any other time—I held the crown and reigned with Bryce and Corrigan at my elbow.
Mandy spoke up, and it took a moment before I realized that she addressed me, “So what now?”
“What?” I bristled, irritated at the sudden proclamation of my power. I felt the full force in that moment and I knew that I didn’t want it. I didn’t want any of it. I wanted Bryce. I wanted Corrigan. And I wanted to be left alone.
That’s all I wanted.
And I wanted Leisha’s murderer to fry.
Bryce spoke up for me, “If no one’s told us what to do, we should all just leave.
Go to the Diner or something.”
“Or go and get drunk,” Corrigan commented, no joke.
“That too.” Bryce faintly grinned at him.
Evans spoke up, “Ya’ll can come over to my place. My parents aren’t getting back from their trip until tomorrow. We could have one more todo dia festival.”
Becky grinned ruefully, “Two girls are dead and we’re going to party?”
“Do you really care? You didn’t even know them,” Harris threw back at her.
Becky shrugged, uncomfortable, as she glanced over her shoulder to Carlos, their hands had been entwined, but they broke free at that moment.
What the hell?
“Yeah, well, we care,” Corrigan said sharply. “So show some respect.”
Harris straightened abruptly and fell silent. He looked away.
Becky sobered instantly.
“But…” Corrigan heaved a sigh. “Bryce is right. There’s nothing that we can do and it’s not like we’re going to have school. I’m not going to some mandatory peace talk and listen to the sheriff talk about buddy systems.”
Chet asked, “So what?”
“I don’t know. Go to the Diner.” Corrigan shrugged and pulled me from Bryce.
He started walking back towards the parking lot and Bryce followed.
It was an odd moment and an odd feeling.
As we crossed the separation again, I noticed that too many watched as we left.
Pensive, desperation, hysteria, somber, and bitterness filled so many of their eyes as they watched us walk across and get into Bryce’s car.
I’d never noticed the apparent social isolation before, not during a crowded hallway as students buzzed from locker to locker, but in that moment…I saw it all too clear and I realized what had been invisible became visible. And another chill upon so many slammed over me. The social hierarchy may have reared its ugly head to create a deadly monster.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Everyone else was told to go to the Diner, but our crew went to my home. We hadn’t been there long when the doorbell rang. I waited, my breath suspended, but I wasn’t sure why. I hadn’t had much luck with people coming over to my home lately.
Sighing, I opened the door, grateful as the rest stayed in the kitchen when I found myself face to face with Officer Sheila. She was alone, no hatred-spewing partner.
“Hi,” I said tightly as Sheila nodded, gravely.
“Can we talk?” she asked.
I nodded and shut the door behind as I moved outside.
Sheila lounged on the porch railing as I sat in one of the wicker chairs. “Quite a morning, huh?”
I just waited. She was here for a reason and I knew it.
Sheila took a deep breath and told me, flat, “He left another note for you. This time, we got it first without your friends’ prints all over it.”
I readied myself.
Sheila added, promptly, “And it’s got your boy’s prints on it.”
“My boy? I have a lot of boys.”
“Not the boyfriend. The sidekick.”
I laughed and shook my head, “Corrigan would never call himself a sidekick.
You’re lucky he didn’t hear you or you’d probably come home to a trashed garage or something.”
“He gets like that, huh? He’s got a temper?”
I bared my teeth, “You know he does because of his history. Yes, Corrigan can do some stupid crap, but there’s no way you’re going to tell me that he’s the psycho stalker.”
“Funny,” Sheila remarked, emotionless. “I never said that at all. You did.”
“It was implied and I’m not hearing any more of it.”
“What if he is?” she pressed, heartless. “What if your boy in there is the monster who’s killed two girls? Miss Summers was raped. Miss Umbridge was not. Maybe your boy had already been appeased. He’s got his fair share of girls, doesn’t he? Makes you wonder—why Leisha Summers? Why rape her and not her friend?”
