Authors: Gretchen McNeil
Tags: #Young Adult Fiction, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Social Themes, #Death & Dying, #Friendship, #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Issues
Ed shook his head. “I need to explain.” He pushed himself up on his elbow, wincing with the effort. His right hand, fingers streaked with blood, crept toward his jacket pocket. He fumbled blindly, then pulled away. In his hands, he held a corner of paper that looked as if it had been torn away from a larger sheet.
Margot lifted the scrap of paper from his hands. Words were printed on one side, and she recognized them right away. “The last scene of
Twelfth Precinct
.” She glanced down at Ed. “This is from my prompter’s script.”
Ed nodded, and motioned for her to turn the page over. As she did, she found another set of words. These were handwritten.
“‘Keep your mouth shut,’” she read aloud, “‘or next time she dies.’”
A memory stirred. Margot was watching Logan on stage, dancing with Olivia in the finale. He was all smiles, until he saw something in the audience and the smile dropped. He looked scared. “Logan saw you the night of the show. Saw you arrive at the theater.”
Ed nodded. “He must have thought I found out that he’d been at Archway too. He managed to sneak backstage. When I got there I found this note beside your . . .” His voice trailed off.
“You’re going to be all right,” Olivia said. Tears streamed down her face. “Just rest, okay? You’re going to be fine.”
Ed closed his eyes. “I was trying to protect Margot and I
thought I could deal with the killer on my own. Then the photo . . .” Ed’s eyes flew open, his face pinched. “Margot?”
“I’m here,” she said, leaning closer to him.
Ed smiled. “He sent me a photo. In the envelope.”
Kitty laid her hand on Margot’s shoulder. “Logan threatened to destroy what we loved,” she explained.
“But he screwed up,” Ed continued. “I could see his reflection in the photo. I tried to keep everyone safe. Called 911, but they wouldn’t listen.”
“I had that problem, too,” Bree said.
“So I pulled the fire alarm, then I went looking for Logan. Only—” Ed was interrupted by a violent cough. A trickle of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth. Thundering footsteps pounded overhead. The authorities had arrived.
“Ed?” Margot cried. “Hold on. You hear me? Don’t give up.”
“But you’re safe . . . now. I am considerably . . . out of . . .”
Ed’s head lolled to the side as John led the paramedics down the stairs.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
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IT FELT STRANGE TO BE BACK IN THE COMPUTER LAB
.
Kitty looked around the windowless classroom. On the surface, it was just like old times. Margot sat in front of a computer, her fingers flying deftly over the keys. Bree had tilted her chair back and propped up her legs on a desk while she steadfastly chipped away at whatever flecks of polish still remained on her fingernails. And Olivia was late.
One by one they’d slipped away from the melee down at the gym. After Logan, Ed, and the former DGM victims had been rushed away by paramedics, the girls had each been questioned by a very confused and distraught Sergeant Callahan, called in on his off day in the wake of the shootings. And once they had been released, they had made a beeline to their old meeting place.
Footsteps hurried down the hall and Kitty whisked the door open before Olivia could knock.
“Sorry!” Olivia said, her voice breathless. “Sergeant Callahan was asking like a million questions about what we were doing in the boiler room with Logan.”
Kitty arched an eyebrow. “And what did you tell him?”
“Same as we discussed. We each got an envelope threatening to hurt someone we cared about if we didn’t show up at the gym today.”
“Do you think he bought it?”
Olivia scrunched her mouth up to the side. “Not sure. He wanted to believe our story, but I’m not sure he’s been able to wrap his head around it yet.”
“Should be pretty open and shut,” Bree said. “Since Logan confessed to everything before they rushed him to the hospital.”
“True,” Kitty said. For some inexplicable reason, Logan had insisted on speaking to the police before the EMTs loaded him into the ambulance. He’d then confessed to the murders, attacking Margot, and arson at the warehouse. He claimed to be using the DGM name to commit the crimes and even said he threatened Bree into a false confession, which wasn’t entirely a lie.
“Why did he take responsibility?” Olivia asked. “Why not expose us instead of protecting our connection to DGM?”
Kitty shook her head. “I have no idea.” She eyed Margot, who steadfastly stared at the computer screen. She was hacking into the hospital’s admittance database. “Any updates?”
Margot shook her head. “No.”
What was she feeling? Of all of them, she’d been through the most. Should she ask how she was doing? Offer to talk whenever she felt like it? Or just let her grieve in silence until she was ready to discuss?
Margot’s face was a blank slate, no hint of fear or loss. Maybe
that was how she coped with her pain: she muscled it aside until it lost its sting.
She closed out of the hospital site and switched to the Menlo Park Police Department’s website. “Donté, Mika, Theo, and Peanut have all been released from custody,” she said after a few clicks of the mouse.
Olivia laughed. “What I wouldn’t give to have seen the look on Peanut’s face when they booked her into juvie.”
“But juvie’s so much fun!” Bree said with sarcastic enthusiasm. She rolled her foot in a circle, wiggling the GPS tracker. “The wardrobe, the company, the culinary delights.”
“Thank you,” Kitty said to Bree in all seriousness. “For what you did.”
Bree shrugged it off. “It was nothing.”
“No,” Olivia said. “It wasn’t.”
Bree dropped her eyes to her lap in embarrassment.
Margot abruptly spun around in her seat. “So the question is,” she said, in her usual matter-of-fact way, “does DGM stay together or not?”
Kitty blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I . . . I don’t know.”
“We did what we set out to do,” Olivia said.
“Maybe it’s time to walk away,” Bree added.
Margot arched an eyebrow. “Do you really want that?”
Again, Kitty didn’t have a ready answer. It had been bugging her all day, the decision about what DGM should do next. Everyone at Bishop DuMaine would know that Kitty, Bree, Olivia, and Margot were in the gym when Logan and Ed were shot.
Their carefully maintained camouflage of disparate lives would be obliterated.
Then again, with Bree exonerated, she could claim that Logan forced her to confess to being DGM, and no one else knew the rest of them were involved. With the new DGM cleared of any wrongdoing, and Logan unmasked as a killer trying to frame DGM for his crimes, there was an opportunity to carry on.
“No,” Kitty said at last. She smiled broadly. “As long as there is high school, there will always been mean girls and bullies who deserve a bitch slap.”
“I’ve got a list,” Bree said with a smirk.
“But . . .” Olivia clasped her hands before her. “But if we keep this up, does that mean we have to keep pretending that we’re not friends?” She looked around the circle. “Because I don’t think I’d like that.”
“Me either,” Kitty said.
“Me either either,” Bree added.
For the first time that day, Margot smiled. “Me either cubed.”
“My math is crappy,” Kitty said. “But I think that means we at least have some kind of unanimous resolution. Friends?”
The girls nodded. “Friends,” they said together.
“How about this,” Kitty suggested. “We postpone any decision on the future of DGM until we determine whether or not there’s a need for its services.”
“A hiatus,” Margot said.
Bree smiled at Olivia wickedly. “That means we take a break.”
“Duh.” Olivia rolled her eyes, then smiled right back at Bree.
Kitty was pretty sure this was the first time the computer lab hadn’t witnessed any bickering from the two of them.
“And if DGM is needed,” Kitty continued. “We’ve got backup.”
The girls nodded in agreement.
“Then I guess we’ll do this for the last time,” Kitty said, pushing herself to her feet. “For now, at least.” She shot her hand forward.
“I, Kitty Wei, do solemnly swear, no secrets—ever—shall leave this square.”
“I, Margot Mejia, do solemnly swear, no secrets—ever—shall leave this square.”
“I, Olivia Hayes, do solemnly swear, no secrets—ever—shall leave this square.”
“I, Bree Deringer, do solemnly swear, no secrets—ever—shall leave this square.”
Kitty gazed at the three smiling faces beaming back at her. She had no idea what the future held for DGM, but she knew one thing for sure—their friendship would last no matter what.
“Don’t get mad,” Kitty said, fighting back tears.
“Get even!”
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
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One week later
OLAF PULLED THE CAR INTO THE BISHOP DUMAINE FACULTY
parking lot Sunday morning, and shifted into park, allowing the engine to idle.
“All right, darlings,” Mrs. Deringer said in her bell-like voice. “I believe this is your stop?”
Bree leaned forward from the backseat. “You’re just going to Sacramento, right? No last-minute itinerary changes to Marseilles?”
“Villefranche-sur-Mer,” her mom corrected with a wink. “And besides, if I was going back to France, don’t you think I’d have more luggage?”
Bree turned to the back of the SUV, where a dozen bags were piled so high there was no way Olaf could see out the rear window.
“That’s no moon,” John said, under his breath. “That’s a space station.”
“Olaf and I will be back in three days,” her mom continued. Then, in a rare moment of parental responsibility, she peered
around the headrest at John and pointed a perfectly manicured finger at him. “And no sleepovers while we’re gone.”
“Yes, ma’am,” John said with a salute.
She shifted her gaze to Bree. “Or I’ll have Brendan Callahan put that thing back on your ankle.”
“Mom,” Bree said. “What happens then? After you and Dad talk?” She had to know. She’d been trying not to get excited over the last week, hoping rather than believing that her mom would stay in California. But if things went badly during this mini-reunion between her parents, would her mom flee to Europe again?
“Bree,” her mom said, softly. “Rome wasn’t built in a day. But I promise I’ll be back Tuesday night and then . . .” She took a deep breath. “And then we’ll play it by ear, okay?”
“Okay,” Bree said. She felt John’s hand creep around her back and give her a tight squeeze. “Do me a favor, though?”
Her mom sighed dramatically. “Another favor? I’ve already busted your friends out of jail, convinced your dad to lift your house arrest, and found a darling little rent-free guest house for your friend Tina.”
“Tammi,” Bree corrected.
Bree’s mom waved her hand. “Same thing. What else could you possibly need from me?”
Bree smiled. “Tell Dad I miss him.”
“Ah,” her mom said slowly. “Yes. Now hurry up. You’re going to miss your friend’s game.”
Olivia’s mom was still confused. “You have a friend on the
volleyball team?” she asked for the billionth time.
“Yep,” Olivia said simply. Not worth trying to explain the whole situation. She looped her arm through her mom’s as they climbed into the bleachers. “One of my best friends, in fact.”
“Oh.”
“Mrs. Hayes!” Peanut stood up in her seat a few rows above them, and waved at Olivia and her mom. “I saved seats for you guys.”
Olivia led her mom halfway up the bleachers, then slid into the row next to Peanut. As she sat down, she noticed the smiling face of Theo at Peanut’s side. His hand lay on the bench next to Peanut’s with their pinky fingers pressed up against each other.
Didn’t see that one coming.
“Hi, Olivia!” Theo said. She’d never seen him so happy. “Is this your mom?”
“June Hayes,” her mom said, stretching out her hand to Theo. “I’m a bartender.”
“And a fabulous actress,” Olivia added.
“Cool!” Theo said. “To both.”
A whistle blared and the players began to trickle out of the locker room onto the court. Theo jumped to his feet. “That’s my cue,” he said. “I’ll catch you after the game?”
“I’ll be here,” Peanut said. Olivia noticed that Peanut’s eyes followed Theo all the way down to the court. She didn’t even notice Kyle sitting with Tyler and a few other members of the now-disbanded ’Maine Men on the other side of the gym.
Olivia considered asking Peanut about Theo, but judging by the deep blush that had spread from Peanut’s chest to her face,
she decided that was a conversation better left for private. Instead, she scanned the bleachers. “It’s packed in here today.”
“Bishop DuMaine versus Gunn,” Peanut said. “Should be an offensive battle.”
Olivia looked at her friend sidelong. “Since when have you been interested in girls’ volleyball?”
Peanut’s blush deepened. “Since, um, last week.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Olivia craned her head and scanned the bleachers behind her. She was looking for Margot or Bree, but didn’t see either of them in the crowd. As she was searching, her eyes landed on a familiar face.
Amber Stevens, sitting by herself.
“I’ll be right back,” Olivia said, excusing herself from the row. Before her mom or Peanut could ask why, Olivia hurried up the stairs.
“Hey,” she said, taking a seat next to Amber.
“Hey.”
So much had happened between them. Too much. Olivia didn’t even know where to begin the healing process of their friendship, wasn’t sure she even wanted someone like Amber in her circle. And yet Logan had taken something from Amber as well. Rex may have been an unholy douche, but Amber had loved him. Olivia couldn’t ignore the fact that she was hurting.
“You here by yourself?” Olivia asked.
Amber shrugged. “Yeah. I didn’t have anything else to do. And I didn’t want to be home.”
It might have been the most honest moment of their friendship.