Deadly Cool (25 page)

After answering a few routine questions like what my name was, what day it was (which was a hazy one because I wasn’t sure how much time had elapsed between my midnight meet and now), and who the president was, I was deemed okay. At least okay enough to get unstrapped from the wooden board.

That was about when Mom arrived, grabbing me in a hug that didn’t end. Seriously, I think we stood there for a full five minutes before she finally let me go, tears in her eyes. Which of course caused tears to well up in my eyes. Which led to the two of us becoming blubbering messes of
I love you
s (mostly from her) and
I’ll never sneak out again
s (mostly from me) by the time Detective Raley walked up with his little black notebook in hand.

I blame the blubbering for the fact that it took another ten minutes before I was finally able to get the full story out for Raley.

“So, Caitlyn was the one who sent you the text to meet her here?” he asked, consulting his notes.

I nodded. (Which, by the way did not feel good. My fight with Caitlyn, coupled with inhaling mass amounts of pom-pom smoke, had caused that migraine to grow to monstrous proportions.) “And she strangled Courtney and hit Kaylee on the back of the head with a rock.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And she told you all this?”

I moved to nod again but thankfully thought better of it just in time. “Yes. Right before she tried to barbecue me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Look, I know this sounds kinda crazy, but you have to believe me, Caitlyn was—”

But he cut me off with an “I do.”

I paused. “You do what?”

“Believe you.”

I clamped my mouth shut with a click. “Oh.”

“Chase called us as soon as he pulled you out of the building.”

Bad Boy had the cops on speed dial? Who knew.

Apparently, according to Raley’s notebook, Chase had been concerned when I’d dropped my phone, and he promptly got into his death trap, racing through the streets toward the school (one time I was grateful for his maniac driving skills). He’d searched the football field for me and was just about to give up and call Raley to report me missing when he’d seen flames rising from the band room. Thinking quickly, he’d soaked a blanket he had in the back of his car with water from the pool and wrapped himself in it to burst in and rescue me.

Very action hero. Very hot. (Hey, after the night I’d had, I think I earned the right to pull one bad pun or two.)

He had taken off, by the way. By the time I came to, Chase was nowhere to be seen, making me wonder if my mind had, in fact, been playing tricks on me with The Kiss. I licked my lips. I was almost sure I could taste him there.

“We have an APB out on Caitlyn,” Raley continued, “and a uniformed officer is on his way to her house right now. We’ll pick her up, don’t worry.”

And for the first time in days, I actually didn’t.

“And in the meantime?” Mom asked. “Should we hide Hartley? Should we leave town? Should we put her in some sort of protective custody?”

Raley looked at me. Then nodded toward Mom and rolled his eyes, a half smile playing on the corner of his lips.

I couldn’t help returning it.

“I’m fine, Mom,” I told her.

Mom looked at me. “You have no eyebrows. You are not fine.”

My hands flew to my eyebrows. Or, more accurately, the bald skin where they used to be.

Noooooooooo!

“They’ll grow back,” Raley assured me. “And in the meantime, I think you’re perfectly safe to return home. We have the situation under control. I’ll let you know as soon as we have Caitlyn in custody.”

Mom was still not totally convinced, but when I begged her to go home and whip me up a plate of soy cheesecake with gluten-free walnut crust, she relented, piling me into the minivan.

It was nearing dawn by the time we arrived. I was beyond exhausted. But, instead of collapsing onto my bed, I followed Mom to the kitchen.

“So,” she asked tentatively as she grabbed a mixing bowl from the top shelf, “you feel like talking, hon? I mean, if you don’t, that’s fine. I understand.”

But honestly? I did.

So, I did.

As Mom mixed tofu, fructose, and soy milk, I told her everything that had happened in the past week, ever since I stumbled upon Courtney in Josh’s closet. I hesitated a few times, waiting for the SMother to pounce, but, amazingly, she didn’t. At least, not until I hit the end.

When she rounded the kitchen counter and gave me another five-minute hug.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” she mumbled into my hair.

Don’t worry. I had no intention of ever getting involved with something like this again.

Detective Raley caught up with Caitlyn the next morning. She had stayed on the run all night, but skipping school was too much for a good Color Guard girl to do, even a killer. She was arrested the second she tried to enter school grounds and was heard yelling about her trig homework as she was dragged away in handcuffs. The KTVU news reported that she was looking at an insanity plea—saying that the pressure of high school perfection made her do it. Creative, I’d give her that. Rumor had it she was being held in a psychiatric facility, where she was busy converting the mentally unstable into born-again virgins.

With Caitlyn in custody, Josh was released and all charges were dropped. He returned to school the following Monday, and, for the first time in two weeks, all eyes were on him, the whispers and stares directed at someone else for a change. Part of me felt kinda sorry for him. I mean, he had been framed, arrested, and locked up in jail—not something I’d wish on anyone.

But as much as he’d been my first love, he’d also been the first guy to ever cheat on me. And if I’d learned anything from my near-barbecuing experience, it was that life was way too short to spend with someone who didn’t respect me. I had run a murder investigation. I had figured out the killer even when the police couldn’t. I had survived being attacked and brought a murderer to justice. I was awesome, and I deserved so much better.

So I let Josh suffer the stares and whispers on his own.

Kaylee’s funeral was that Wednesday, but I didn’t attend. Her parents specified family and close friends only, and I didn’t think I qualified as either. Even though I knew she had played a role in Courtney’s death, I still kinda felt sorry for Kaylee. It was clear she hadn’t realized what Caitlyn was doing until it was too late. And, in the end, she had tried to do the right thing. So I wore a black armband shot through with purple sparkly threads in her honor that day.

Courtney’s funeral, on the other hand, was so well attended they ended up using the football stadium to hold everyone and had to set up three extra banks of Porta Potties in the parking lot. Guys from all the area high schools showed up and even some college guys from San José State. Apparently the chastity queen really had gotten around.

And that fact was exploited to the fullest on Shiloh’s blog. She got so many hits to The Mainstream Sucks after the fire and Caitlyn’s arrest that she started charging for sidebar advertising space. A chance several businesses jumped at. Instead of her brother’s old ten-speed, Shiloh was soon seen driving a brand-new convertible BMW to school. (Yeah, I was seriously thinking of taking up blogging now.)

The local news station ran an entire series of stories on the HHH Killer. After Andi Brackenridge’s blackmail attempt came out in the news, Mary May fired her for unladylike conduct. Andi then hired a kick-butt civil attorney, who sued for unlawful termination. Rumor had it, Andi was looking at a settlement that would cover the cost of raising her little pink bundle. Several times over.

Of course, while the local news stations grabbed the story with gusto, the
Herbert Hoover High Homepage
had been the first news outlet to publish the entire string of events, Chase getting his promised exclusive. In fact, his article was actually reprinted in both the
Weekly Times
and the
San José Mercury News
with his byline, giving him just the kind of clipping that would get him into the journalism school of his choice next year.

Not that I had firsthand knowledge of his choice. In fact, ever since The Kiss, we hadn’t spoken. Which I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised about. I mean, now that the whole case was over, and he had his story, we really didn’t have any reason to hang out together. We lived in different worlds. Ran in different circles. Our tentative partnership was over.

Which was fine. I was so over men in general, and the ones at our school specifically. Josh, Chase, and the whole childish bunch of them could go take a flying leap for all I cared. Which is exactly what I told Sam that afternoon over meat(ish) loaf in the cafeteria.

“I honestly don’t even care that he hasn’t spoken to me since we came back to school,” I told her.

“Who, Josh?”

“Chase.”

She raised an eyebrow, then sipped from her juice box.

“What? What’s with the eyebrow?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t nothing me, Samantha Kramer. What?”

“It’s just . . .”

“What?”

She grinned. “You’ve said his name six times.”

I paused. “No. I don’t think so.”

She nodded, her bangs bobbing against her forehead. “Yup. I counted. While telling me how much you don’t care about men, you’ve said the name ‘Chase’ six times.”

I bit my lip. “So?”

She shrugged. Then sipped her juice box again. “That’s a lot of times, that’s all.”

“So what. So I said his name six times. I say lots of things lots of times.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Besides, weren’t you listening? I am over guys. Guys suck. They bring nothing but trouble. This whole thing started because of a suckish guy. God, if I could just go back in time and not date Josh, I’d still have eyebrows.”

“They’ll grow back.”

“That’s what everyone keeps saying,” I mumbled, self-consciously fingering the still-bald patch above my right eye where I’d tried to draw an eyebrow with an eyeliner pencil. Which, by the way blended perfectly with the bright red burn on my face that made me look like I’d fallen asleep on a tanning bed. And the purple bruise around my neck that was just now starting to fade. And the lump at my temple where Caitlyn had hit me was a lovely shade of baby poop brown now. Yep, I was a regular prize.

“Well, don’t look now,” Sam said, glancing over my shoulder, “but here he comes.”

“Josh?” I asked, ducking and grabbing my tray, ready to make a hasty exit.

She shook her head. “No, Chase.”

I bit my lip.

“Oh.”

I did an eeny, meeny, miny, moe whether or not I had time to bolt for an exit before he saw me. Not that I had any reason to bolt. I had done nothing wrong. So we’d kissed. So what? Big deal. People kissed all the time. It didn’t mean anything. It had happened in the heat of the moment. (Ugh. There went a pun again.) I was emotional, hallucinating. He’d just rescued me from a burning building. Anything that happened afterward didn’t count. Everyone knew that.

Apparently I took so long convincing myself I didn’t need to flee that Chase’s tray plopped down on the Formica table beside me before I had a chance to
not
act on the instinct.

“Hey,” he said, straddling the bench next to me.

Close next to me.

My cheeks instantly heated, awkward butterflies floating around in my stomach.

“Hey,” I managed, covering my blush with my hair.

“Hey, Sam.”

“Hey.”

“Hey,” I repeated.

“You already said that,” he pointed out.

“Oh.”

Sam looked from Chase to me. Then back at Chase.

“Okay, well, I’ve got to go . . . you know, so, I’ll catch you later, yeah?” she said, gathering her juice box and paper bag.

I opened my mouth to beg her to stay, but she was already skittering away, backpack on one shoulder. She did a “call me” sign over her shoulder.

Great. Alone with Bad Boy.

“So . . .” he said, ripping open his ranch dipping sauce.

“So.”

“Your eyebrows look good,” he said, gesturing to my eyeliner job.

I ducked my face back down behind my hair again. “Thanks. They should grow back soon.”

He nodded. “Cool. Look, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about, Hartley.”

“It didn’t mean anything,” I blurted out. Then immediately wished I was one of those girls who knew how to keep her mouth shut in an awkward situation.

The thing was, I was totally afraid to hear what Chase had to say. As much as I was secure in my newfound awesomeness, the whole Josh thing was still raw. At least for now. Maybe in a few days, weeks, months, when my eyebrows grew back and my pride had a chance to grow back along with them, I’d be a little less chicken around the opposite sex. But for now?
Bawk, bawk, ba-gawk!

“Didn’t mean anything?” Chase asked, cocking his head.

I licked my lips. “Yeah. I mean, I was vulnerable, you know? I was out of it. From the smoke. And the fire. And the pom-pom fumes. I thought maybe I was hallucinating you at first. And you rescued me, so I was all like ‘my hero’ and stuff and it was just the hea—” I stopped myself just in time from punning this up. “It was the moment, ya know? So, I totally know that it doesn’t mean anything. I’m totally not reading anything into it that isn’t really there. I know that Shiloh is your type, like the dark and weird and dangerous girls, and I’m like vanilla with tofu, so I know it was a mistake and just a fluke and that it totally didn’t mean anything, so you don’t have to ‘talk,’” I said doing Raley-style air quotes, “to me about it, because we’re cool, okay?”

I paused for a breath.

And looked up to find Chase doing a lopsided smile at me.

“What on earth are you talking about?” he said.

I bit my lip. “The Kiss?”

Something momentarily flickered behind his eyes, but just as quickly it disappeared. “That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Mental face palm.

“Oh. Right. Well, okay, then.”

He grinned even bigger, showing off a row of teeth. “You’re blushing.”