by R. L. Stine
She swallowed hard, and turned her attention to the other photo. The one of her own lips.
“They are a perfect match,” she murmured. She gazed at the lip print on Vincent’s cheek. Then at her own lips.
Back and forth. Back and forth.
The lip print. Her lips.
She gazed back and forth between the photos.
Then she spun around and faced the detectives.
“Those aren’t my lip prints on Vincent’s face!” Delia exclaimed. “And I can prove it!”
Chapter
25
Detective Bender’s eyes went wide. He glanced at his partner, then turned back to Delia.
Delia allowed a smile to spread over her face. “I’m innocent! And I can prove it! I can prove it!”
Detective Jamison ran his hand over his bony jaw. “Go ahead,” he urged softly.
Delia spun back around to face the board. “My lips and the lip print do match. But they shouldn’t!”
Detective Bender appeared totally confused. But Detective Jamison didn’t. He narrowed his eyes and studied the photos. “Keep going,” he instructed.
“If I kissed Vincent,” she explained, “the lip print on his cheek wouldn’t appear the way my lips do in the photo. The print would be reversed.
“Huh?” Detective Bender grunted.
Delia hurried around the table and picked up her purse. She rummaged through and found her new tube of Midnight Wine. She carefully applied a coat to her lips.
Then she pulled out a scrap of paper. She kissed it, and held it up to the detectives. “If I kissed somebody, this is what the print would look like.”
Delia held the paper up beside her lips. “See? My lips and the lip print don’t match, do they? The print is reversed on the paper.”
Detective Bender now appeared as interested as Detective Jamison.
Delia spread another coat of Midnight Wine on her lips. She picked up a clean, smooth napkin from the table. Then she blotted her lips and showed the detectives the print left on the napkin.
“The print on the napkin is turned around too. Exactly like the one on the scrap of paper. See?” She showed them the napkin.
“But, if the print on the napkin is pressed against something flat—like someone’s cheek …”
Delia flattened the napkin against the top of the table. This has to work, she thought.
She slowly raised the napkin.
A lip print in Midnight Wine marked the table.
“See? That’s a perfect match to my lips.”
Detective Bender studied the napkin, mirror, and tabletop. “And all this means?”
Delia knew detective Jamison had figured it out. But she didn’t wait for him to answer.
“What it means is that someone got hold of a lip print of mine. Off a napkin or a piece of paper or something. I blot my lips all the time. I leave papers all over the place.”
Delia picked up the napkin with the lip print on it and tossed it down in front of Detective Bender.
“It means that whoever killed Vincent pressed my lip print against his cheek! It’s the only reason the lip print would be reversed. Someone is trying to frame me for killing Vincent!”
Detective Jamison nodded to his partner. “She’s right,” he murmured.
“And I think I know who did it,” Delia continued, her heart pounding. “Will you believe me now? Will you listen to me?”
“We’ll listen now,” Detective Bender assured her. “Start at the beginning.”
Delia took a deep breath and began to tell the detectives about Karina. About how she and Karina had been competing all their lives. About competing for the Conklin Award. And competing for Vincent.
She told them about Karina trying to strangle her. About the rat in her guitar. About her destroyed art portfolio.
And about Karina knocking her unconscious and tying her up. She showed them the bruises on her wrists.
Delia’s eyes darted back and forth between the two men. They believe me! she decided. They believe I’m innocent. They believe I didn’t kill Vincent.
Detective Jamison stood up. “We need to check this out,” he stated.
“Thank you!” Delia cried. “Poor Karina. She’s been acting so messed up. I—I won’t feel safe until—”
Detective Jamison raised a hand. “Slow down. We have to take this one step at a time.”
“Your story is interesting,” his partner added. “But there is no physical evidence to link this Karina to the murder. But you’ve given us more than enough reason to go over and talk to this girl.”
“I want to go with you,” Delia said breathlessly. “I can show you where she—”
Jamison raised a finger to his lips. “One step at a time,” he repeated. “One step at a time.”
Chapter
26
Where has the day gone? Delia wondered, stepping out of the small police station. How can it be night already?
“Let’s get home, honey,” Delia’s mother said softly. She held the back door of the car open for Delia.
Delia wrapped her arms around herself and watched as the two detectives pulled away from the police station in their cruiser. They didn’t want her to go to Karina’s house with them.
“We may be dealing with a murderer,” Jamison had told her. “We don’t want to put you in danger.”
“Delia?” her mother prompted.
Delia glanced back at her parents’ car. I can’t go home, she thought. I have to know what happens at Karina’s house!
“Um … I think I’m going to walk over to Britty’s,” Delia told her mom. “She must be so worried about me! And her house is only two blocks away.”
Delia’s father frowned. “Are you sure? I don’t think you should be alone—you’ve had an upsetting day.”
“I’m okay,” Delia assured him. “I just want to talk to Britty. I won’t stay long.”
As her parents climbed back into their car, Delia walked toward Britty’s house. It was true Britty lived nearby. And so did Karina.
I’ll go talk to Britty, Delia told herself. But first I have to see Karina. I have to find out if she’s the killer!
She ran the short distance to Karina’s house. The police cruiser was already parked out in front. Delia stopped behind it and gazed up at the house. It stood in darkness, half hidden behind an old willow tree.
The two detectives climbed the porch steps and rang the bell.
A few seconds later the porch light flashed on.
Karina stepped out into the harsh yellow glare.
Karina wore jeans and a sweatshirt. In the bright light of the porch, Delia could see that Karina had been crying.
Delia crept closer and struggled to hear the conversation.
“Mom!” Karina was calling. “Mom!”
Karina’s mother appeared behind her daughter. “Can I help you?” Mrs. Frye asked.
“A friend of your daughter’s, Vincent Milano, was killed last night,” Detective Bender stated in a flat, emotionless tone.
Karina uttered a loud sob. Tears filled her eyes—but she didn’t begin to cry.
“We know,” Mrs. Frye answered with a sigh. “I’m sure everyone in Shadyside knows the horrible news by now.”
“We would like to talk to Karina,” Bender said. “Can we come inside?”
Karina and her mother exchanged glances. Karina said something, but Delia couldn’t make out the words.
Karina’s mother led the detectives inside. The door closed behind them.
Delia counted to ten. Then she started across the grass of the front lawn.
I can’t just stand here, she told herself. I have to know what’s going on in there.
She stopped behind the willow tree and peered toward the living room window.
The drapes were pulled. She couldn’t see a thing.
Moving quickly, Delia made her way to the side of the house. Pressing her hands against the shingles, she stepped up to the side window.
Leaned forward enough to see inside.
And gasped.
Karina! Staring out at her from the center of the living room!
Chapter
27
Delia pulled her head back.
Too late?
Was Karina already telling the detectives she had spotted Delia?
Her heart pounding, Delia pressed her back against the wall. And waited.
Waited for the sound of the front door bursting open and the detectives rushing out to pull her away from the window.
Silence.
Carefully, she leaned toward the window again.
Karina had turned to face Bender and Jamison.
Whew! Delia let out a long sigh. Karina hadn’t seen her after all.
Holding her breath, Delia squinted through the window into the living room. Karina sat beside her mother on the couch. The two policemen sat tensely across from them in stiff-backed armchairs.
Bender spoke. Then Karina. Then Bender spoke again. Jamison scribbled in his little writing pad.
I wish I could hear what they are saying, Delia thought unhappily.
The conversation continued for a long while. Karina balled up her hands, then unballed them. The only sign that she was the least bit tense.
Suddenly they all stood up.
Delia watched Karina and her mother lead the way to the stairs.
I have to see this, Delia told herself.
I can’t stand out here and miss everything. I have to know what happens. I have to!
Delia knew the house so well. She had been visiting it since she was a little girl.
She knew the side door led to the den. And from the den, she could make her way to the back stairs. Karina’s room stood at the end of the hall.
Silently, holding her breath, Delia pulled open the side door—and sneaked into the house.
A few seconds later she was making her way up the carpeted steps.
From Karina’s room, she heard low voices, drawers opening and shutting, glass bottles clinking together.
She reached the hall and scurried across. She peered through the crack in Karina’s door frame.
Karina’s huge canopy bed dominated the room. A white lace bedspread covered it—and on top of the bedspread rested a pile of pink pillows and stuffed animals.
I hope the detectives aren’t fooled by all this sweetness, Delia thought. I hope they realize the evil that Karina is capable of.
She shifted her position slightly. Now she could see Detective Jamison searching through the clothes in Karina’s closet.
Delia studied Karina’s face. She appeared totally in control. She calmly offered little comments to the detectives as they searched.
“That’s my volleyball trophy,” she told Detective Bender. He set it back on her dresser.
Detective Jamison closed the closet and checked under the bed. He pulled out a flowered box.
“I like to save notes from friends. I stick them all in there,” Karina explained.
Is she trying to make friends with them or something? Delia thought. She’s being so chatty.
Karina turned to Detective Bender as he pulled open the top drawer of her dresser. “You won’t find anything in there,” she said. “Just more clothes.”
Detective Bender didn’t reply. He flipped through each pile of clothes—then moved on to the next drawer.
Mrs. Frye leaned wearily against a closet door. “What are you looking for?” she demanded impatiently. “This is such a waste of your time. We agreed to cooperate. But I had no idea you were going to take Karina’s room apart. I mean—”
“Come over here,” Detective Bender called to his partner. Bender was crouched down, examining the bottom dresser drawer.
“What is it?” Jamison asked.
“I found something very interesting,” Bender replied.
Chapter
28
Delia held her breath.
Karina’s face turned red. She rushed over to the detectives and stared into the bottom drawer. She opened and closed her mouth. She couldn’t speak.
Mrs. Frye hurried to her daughter’s side. “I don’t understand …”
“Nooooo!” Karina wailed.
The sound ripped from her throat. “No! It can’t be! Those don’t belong to me!”
Detective Bender shook his head. He stared at Karina with his sharp blue eyes. “It’s in your drawer. Can you explain it to us?”
I have to see this, Delia thought. She edged farther into the doorway.
Detective Jamison reached down into the drawer and lifted out a sheet of notebook paper. He held it by one corner, touching it as little as possible.
Delia took another step forward—and saw a set of purple lip prints on the paper.
Detective Jamison dipped into the drawer again and pulled out a tissue with a deep purple lip print on it. He pulled out print after print of Delia’s lips.
What can Karina say now? Delia wondered. How will she ever be able to explain this?
Chapter
29
“Vincent Milano had a purple lip print on his cheek when we examined his body,” Detective Jamison explained to Karina and her mother. “A lip print this color, this shape.”
“But—but—” Karina sputtered.
“We believe that Vincent’s murderer placed the lip print there by pressing a sheet of paper—like one of these—against his face.”
Mrs. Frye stumbled over to Karina’s bed. Her entire body shook.
Karina uttered a sob. “I did not kill Vincent. I cared about Vincent—more than anyone in the world. And he cared about me.”
Delia couldn’t hold herself back any longer.
“No!” she shrieked. “He didn’t care about you! He didn’t! And so you killed him! You killed him! The only boy I ever loved!”
Karina gasped and spun around to face her.
“Delia? What are you doing in here?” she demanded.
“We told you to wait—” Bender said angrily.
The detectives started toward Delia.
But before they could reach her, Karina charged across the room. She grabbed Delia around the waist—and heaved her to the floor.
Delia’s breath rushed out in a whoosh. White specks flew in front of her eyes.
“Karina—stop!” she could hear Mrs. Frye pleading. “Stop!”
Karina let out an animal cry of fury.
Delia struggled to push Karina away.
The detectives grabbed Karina by the shoulders—and wrestled her off Delia.
With another angry shriek, Karina broke one hand free and ripped her nails across Delia’s cheek.
Then she spun into her mother’s arms.
“Aaaaaiiii!” Delia screamed in pain.
Her hands shot up to protect her face.
She felt the hot blood flowing down her cheek. Felt the sharp tingle of pain sweep down her body.
“I didn’t kill him! I didn’t!” Karina screeched, her eyes wild, her entire body trembling, out of control. “I didn’t! I didn’t!”
Mrs. Frye wrapped her arms tightly around Karina. She whispered in Karina’s ear.
Karina’s chest heaved with each breath. Her face glowed bright red.
“Calm, calm,” Mrs. Frye whispered. “We’ll straighten this out.”
Delia kept her face covered, afraid Karina might attack again.
“If I let you go, will you promise not to attack Delia again?” Mrs. Frye demanded softly.
Delia lowered her hands.
Karina pulled in a long, shuddering breath. Then she nodded.
The detectives watched warily as Mrs. Frye released her.
“I cared about Vincent—and he cared about me!” Karina cried. “He did! I know he did!”
“It’s okay, dear,” her mother crooned, rocking her back and forth. “It’s okay. It will all be okay.”
“We need to take you and your daughter down to the station,” Detective Jamison said. “I advise you to call an at
torney right away.”
Mrs. Frye nodded. She held on tightly to Karina.
“Poor Karina,” Delia murmured.
Then she followed the detectives down the stairs. Out the front door. Into the cool night.
Is it over? Delia wondered, taking a deep, deep breath.
Is it finally over?
Chapter
30
Gabe stepped back and held the door open for Delia. “It’s so nice of you to suggest doing this,” he said. “Especially tonight. On prom night.”
He couldn’t stop staring at Delia. She wore a prom dress she designed herself. Long purple satin with a high collar, and a low, low back.
“I wanted to,” Delia answered as they strolled across the parking lot. “Karina and I used to be friends … a long time ago. It just makes me so sad to think of her spending the night of her senior prom in a horrible place like this.”
Gabe opened one of the double doors leading into the Shadyside Psychiatric Hospital. “Coming here always makes me feel a little queasy,” he confessed. “I don’t know if it’s the smell or …”
“Do you visit Karina a lot?” Delia asked.
“Yes. Once every week or so,” Gabe replied.
In her heels, Delia stood as tall as Gabe. She kissed him on the cheek. “That’s so sweet of you,” she said.
Gabe didn’t know if it was sweet exactly. More like something he felt he should do.
He kept wishing he had realized something was seriously wrong with Karina. Wishing he could have done something to help her—before she totally lost it.
Before she became so desperate, she had to kill.
“Wait here,” Gabe said. He paused at a couch near the waiting room door while Delia sat down. “I’ll go talk to the nurse at the registration desk.”
Gabe hurried over to the nurse. He felt eager to get back to Delia.
He still couldn’t believe that she had been going out with him for the past three weeks. And he couldn’t believe that Delia was his date to the Shadyside senior prom.
“We’re here to visit Karina Frye,” he told the nurse at the counter.
