Authors: Gretchen McNeil
Tags: #Young Adult Fiction, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Social Themes, #Death & Dying, #Friendship, #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Issues
“Us?” Olivia stared at him, momentarily stunned. “You mean
you
didn’t do this?”
Ed jabbed his thumb at his chest. “Me? No way. I’m a businessman, not a crusader. I don’t give a shit about justice unless it’s profitable.”
“Right,” Olivia said. “Always out for yourself.”
“Let’s assume,” Kitty said, stepping between them, “that no one in the room is responsible.”
A faint knock on the door made Olivia jump. “You guys in there?” John whispered.
“Criminy,” Ed said, flopping into a chair. “Are you selling tickets or something?”
Olivia smiled meekly and unlocked the door for John. He stepped into the room, blinking under the harsh fluorescent lights. His gaze wandered from Olivia to Kitty, then landed on Ed. “Him too?”
Ed lengthened his neck regally. “I was here first.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You’re the prettiest.”
Kitty eyed John warily. “How did you know where to find us?”
“I’ve seen Bree sneaking in and out of the second floor of the science building.” John shrugged. “This is the only room that no one uses. And when I saw that video, I thought it might be related to what I got last night.” John swung his backpack off of his shoulder and pulled out a yellow envelope.
“Shit,” Kitty said.
“You got one too?” he asked.
“We all did.” Ed spread his arms wide. “Welcome to DGM.”
“I will destroy everything you love,” John said, quoting the anonymous note. “Kinda creepy.”
Ed waved him off. “Yeah, yeah. Spooky envelope, ominous message.” He held up his index and middle fingers. “The way I see it, we’ve got two options with this new DGM prank. Either the killer is trying to pin this on you, or you’ve got a serious case of “I am Spartacus” on your hands.”
John nodded his appreciation. “Nice one.”
Olivia tilted her head. “Huh?”
“
Spartacus
,” Ed said. “Kirk Douglas? Stanley Kubrick?”
Olivia shook her head.
John laughed. “You’re supposed to be the acting expert. How could you not have heard of this film?”
“I know, right?” Ed held his fist up for a bump that John readily returned.
Olivia was starting to regret letting boys in the clubhouse. “Is this a guy thing?”
Ed rested his elbows on his knees. “Spartacus is a slave in ancient Rome and he incites a rebellion. There’s this scene where the Roman soldiers are looking for Spartacus, and they’re going to start killing people unless they give him up.”
John dropped into a chair next to Ed and began gesturing wildly with excitement as he described the scene. “So Kirk Douglas—he’s Spartacus—he starts to raise his hand so no one else will suffer on his behalf, right? But another dude is all like, ‘I am Spartacus.’ And then another one—‘I am Spartacus.’”
“I am Spartacus!” Ed cried.
“I AM SPARTACUS!” John yelled even louder.
“Shhh!” Kitty hissed. “What’s your point?”
“Spartacus meant something to them,” Olivia said, suddenly understanding the implication. “They were protecting him.”
“And what he stood for,” Ed added.
John nodded in agreement. “Someone’s trying to protect you by carrying on the DGM name.”
Olivia wasn’t sure how she felt about a copycat DGM. Flattered, of course. But this prank against Rex Cavanaugh had the
potential to destroy whatever chance she and Kitty had of finding the killer.
“Attention, Bishop DuMaine students,” Father Uberti said over the loudspeaker. There was a tremor in his voice, hinting at his barely contained rage. “All members of the ’Maine Men student group are hereby released from first period and are to report to the leadership classroom immediately. I repeat, all ’Maine Men and anyone interested in joining are to report to the leadership classroom. Now.”
Kitty glanced at her watch. “I have to get back to class.”
“But what should we do about Rex?” Olivia asked.
“Point and laugh?” Ed suggested.
“Not helpful, Ed.” Kitty hauled her bag over her head and pointed directly at John. “Any luck with Amber and the Rolex?”
John shook his head. “So far I haven’t been able to get a word in. That girl hardly pauses for breath, let alone gives me a chance to ask a question.”
“Tell me about it,” Olivia said.
“Double down on her,” Kitty said. “She’ll be feeling vulnerable, so maybe she’ll be more willing to share the details on that watch.”
John saluted. “Aye, aye, Captain.”
Kitty had that focused game-time look in her eyes, which usually meant she had a plan. “Where are you going?” Olivia asked.
Kitty smiled. “I’m going to infiltrate the ’Maine Men.”
Packs of ’Maine Men hurried through the halls and Kitty tucked herself behind a group of upperclassmen, heading to leadership class. She still wasn’t exactly sure if this was a good idea or not. She’d spent the better part of her time at Bishop DuMaine fighting against tyranny and oppression, two things symbolized by the ’Maine Men. Could she really become one of them?
She reached the door to the leadership classroom and took a deep breath.
I’m about to find out
.
The room was crammed with people. The leadership students sat at their desks, Mika among them, glancing uncomfortably at the legion of guys ringing the room. It was the usual suspects, not exactly a rush of recruits. She recognized a few newbies—a couple of freshman, noticeable for the looks of fear on their faces; the point guard from Donté’s basketball team; a guy from her algebra class; and weirdly enough, Logan Blaine, who stood with his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jacket, staring at the floor.
Rex, she noted, had not returned.
Mika saw her the second she stepped into the room. She turned to the door, brows pulled together in concern at Kitty’s rapid departure minutes earlier. “You okay?” she mouthed.
Father Uberti didn’t miss it either.
“Miss Wei,” he said. “How nice of you to rejoin us. Where did you run off to after the late bell?”
Great, old F.U. was already irritated with her. That wasn’t going to help her cause. “Ladies room,” she said, blurting out the first thing that came into her mind. Then she remembered that
she was going to have to appear sympathetic to his agenda. “I felt sick, you know, after what happened this morning. I thought we were free of this DGM menace once and for all, but now . . .” She let her voice trail off, and shook her head in dismay.
Father Uberti took the bait, hook, line, and sinker. “Yes,” he said with a heavy sigh. “We’ve been dealt a blow today. Which is why I’ve called you all here.”
He turned back to the assembled students, and Kitty slipped into her chair.
Mika leaned forward. “Nice excuse,” she whispered. “You had F.U. eating out of your hand.”
“Yeah,” Kitty replied out of the corner of her mouth. “Totally.”
Crap. What was Mika going to think of her if she up and joined the ’Maine Men? She’d been one of the organizers of the student body protest against Father Uberti and his pet goon squad, and had gotten a day’s suspension over it. Would Mika hate her forever for what she was about to do? Would she ever be able to explain?
And then there was Donté. He’d left the ’Maine Men because he hated their tactics, hated the way they bullied and repressed anyone who didn’t agree with them. Would he understand what she was doing? Or would he despise her for it?
Kitty bit her lip while Father Uberti droned on and on about the menace of DGM, his voice a muted soundtrack to the turmoil raging within her. Mika and Donté. Was she willing to risk both her best friend and her boyfriend?
She pictured the alternative. Margot, unconscious in the
hospital. Bree, falsely accused of murder. And a killer who was still out there, waiting to strike again.
I will destroy everything you love.
What if his next target was Mika? Or Donté? Would she ever be able to forgive herself if she had the opportunity to find out who he was and she didn’t take it?
“Clearly,” Father Uberti said, rapping the desk with the cross that dangled from his cincture as if he was whipping the poor, innocent piece of furniture into submission. “Clearly we haven’t been vigilant enough. These criminals have slipped through our fingers, and now they’ve attacked another student. We need more bodies on the front lines. ’Maine Men, it is time to recruit. Your friends, your family. All able-bodied—”
“I’ll join,” Kitty said. She barely noticed the words flying out of her mouth as every set of eyes in the room turned to face her. “I want to join the ’Maine Men.”
Behind her, she heard Mika gasp.
“Um . . . ,” Father Uberti said, clearly taken aback. “But you’re not . . . What I mean to say is, you’ve got the wrong . . .” He cleared his throat. “Miss Wei, I’m not sure that’s appropriate.”
Oh, for chrissakes, was he seriously balking at her gender? “Because I’m a girl?” she suggested. What was this, 1955?
“Well, yes,” Father Uberti said. “It is the ’Maine
Men
after all.”
“I think we should let her in,” Kyle said, rising to his feet.
Father Uberti stroked his trim Vandyke beard. “Perhaps it would be good for school morale.”
“What are you doing?” Mika hissed.
Kitty half-turned and gave Mika a look she hoped would
adequately transmit her feeling of “I don’t want to do this but I have to” and smiled weakly. “Trust me,” she whispered.
“Huh?”
Father Uberti rapped his cross on the desk three times as if it was a gavel. “All in favor of Kitty Wei becoming the newest member of the ’Maine Men?”
Every member in the room raised his hand.
“All opposed?”
Kitty held her breath. The entire room was silent.
“Very well.” Father Uberti reached beneath the desk, pulled out a blue shirt wrapped in plastic, and tossed it to Kitty. “Welcome to the team.”
Joining the ’Maine Men was one thing. Actually pulling the heinous blue shirt over her head was something else entirely. It triggered some kind of Pavlovian response: Kitty felt instantly nauseous.
“Now, let’s get to business,” Father Uberti said, grasping the podium with both hands. Then he cleared his throat and launched into a speech about the horrors of DGM.
It was the same speech she’d heard him give at least twice before. How the school needed to band together to stamp out this evil. How it was the students’ responsibility to spy on one another. How anyone with information that led to Bree Deringer’s accomplices would be rewarded. Blah blah blah.
Kitty seriously didn’t have time for this. These tired tactics hadn’t worked before, and they weren’t going to work now. She had to get them moving in a new direction if there was any chance of actually finding out who was behind the new DGM: a
killer, a copycat, or something else entirely. So Kitty took a deep breath and raised her hand, right in the middle of Father Uberti’s speech.
He reared back, unused to interruptions. “Miss Wei, do you have a question?”
“A comment,” Kitty said.
“I am all ears.” He sounded anything but.
“It’s just that we’ve tried this before and it didn’t work. Asking students to snitch,, promising rewards. It didn’t get us anywhere.”
Father Uberti narrowed his eyes. “I assume you have a better idea?”
“Yeah,” Kitty said, hoping she wasn’t digging her own grave. This plan had the potential for a colossal backfire. “Yeah, I think I do.”
Father Uberti stepped aside with a dramatic flourish of his arm. “Then by all means, tell us, Miss Wei. Educate us on what we’re doing wrong.”
Kitty rose to her feet, swallowing hard. This was the plan, after all. To infiltrate the ’Maine Men and use them to help her find a killer. And if there was a copycat DGM, this was the best way to protect them, wasn’t it?
She walked to the front of the room, studiously avoiding Mika’s eyes. “We thought this was over,” she began, facing the group. “Bree Deringer turned herself in and we hoped this was all going to go away.”
Several heads nodded in agreement.
Okay, good start!
“An anonymous threat has reemerged from the shadows, too
cowardly to show its face. And so far no one’s been able to shine a light on it.”
“Exactly,” Kyle said.
“Not the police. Not the ’Maine Men. Not the archdiocese.”
Father Uberti shifted his feet. “No need to bring the archdiocese into this.”
But Kitty didn’t pause. She noticed that her audience was sitting forward in their chairs, their eyes wide, lips parted. Everyone but Mika, whose facial expression was slowly morphing from confusion to anger.
But the ’Maine Men were invested in her words, waiting for the payoff. She just had to bring it home.
“I believe,” she said, leaning toward them in a conspiratorial pose, “that Bree Deringer was the sole perpetrator of DGM.”
The room gasped.
“I hardly think that’s possible,” Father Uberti said nervously. He edged closer to her, as if trying to repossess the spotlight. “In light of what’s happened today.”
“I believe,” Kitty continued, “we’re dealing with copycats—students who don’t have the same experience as the original DGM. And do you know what that means?”
“It means they’re sloppy!” Kyle cried out.
Kitty stared at him, blinking. He was smarter than she had given him credit for. “We need to look for their mistakes,” she said. “Because I guarantee they made some. Where did they find these videos? Where did they upload them? How did they get a Bishop DuMaine email address? There’s got to be some evidence of who’s behind DGM. We just have to find it.”
“And then,” Tyler added, “we can catch them.” Ever the scholar.
“So,” Kitty said, planting her hands on the desk and leaning forward. “Go find me a copycat, will you?”
The room broke into cheers. ’Maine Men members new and old leaped to their feet, high fiving and chest bumping one another in a disturbing display of machismo. Kitty was partly terrified by what she’d managed to accomplish. She’d steered the ’Maine Men in a specific direction, one she hoped would lead to a murderer.
Now she just had to hope none of these misguided idiots became his next victim.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
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