by Adalynn Rafe
Sabrina and I nod our heads. Hazel backs away. Can’t we skip the formalities?
“Mr. Edward Leison, or James Longhorn, is a pending suspect in multiple homicides over multiple states.” She glares slightly. “I’m only telling you this information because you’ve clearly overheard your share, and it is best to keep this professional . . . since I can see that you are so interested in what’s going on. We would like to avoid any assumptions that may gather in your curious minds.”
Sabrina, Hazel, and I try to look apologetic. If I had known she was this fierce, I wouldn’t have eavesdropped. Okay, actually, I still would have . . .
“The remains of four girls were found today at eight in the morning during a sweep of the mountains by the FBI,” Reinhardt informs us.
My world shakes for a minute and I grab a hold of Sabrina’s arm. “Where?” It comes out in a shocked whisper. “Where did you find them?” Can it really be them?
Detective Reinhardt looks at Detective Owens momentarily before looking back to me. “They were found in a cave on the north side of town.”
“Not a mine?” I ask. My eyes quickly meet Sabrina’s and then look up. “It’s just—we thought—”
“I said cave.” She seems impatient with me. “You think a lot of things, it appears.”
Sabrina is glowering, but I pinch her forearm discreetly and urge to her just let it drop. We both know it doesn’t feel right.
“We can’t argue where you found the remains, you’re right,” I say.
“What do they look like?” Sabrina asks, clearly not believing them. “You know . . . the remains?”
Detective Reinhardt sighs—she is annoyed with us. “They’re mainly bones now.”
That takes months to happen, for the skin to decompose and leave nothing but skeleton!
My forehead tenses and I start to think around this scene. Leison said the girls were alive still . . . just yesterday!
“It’s not them!” My own voice shocks me. “I know it’s not the girls we are looking for!”
Owens shifts his weight and folds his arms. Reinhardt’s eyes become very analytical and cold as she eyes me.
“They don’t believe us,” Sabrina whispers in my ear discretely as she stretches in my direction. Our eyes meet and I get that feeling in my stomach—a ball of knotted snakes.
Leison, the master manipulator, has made his play once again, sending the FBI on a goose chase so that he can get free—only because he knows they are blind enough to follow the crumbs he’s laid. Why would the FBI ever listen to a bunch of paranoid teenage girls when it comes to homicide? He’s leading them away so that he can come after us, I just know it!
Gulping, I glance at Owens and he gives me a contemplative look. Either way, those remains are not the remains of the girls that are held hostage and alive still.
Getting that map is imperative, a directive that cannot be jeopardized. It is the only way to prove to the FBI that we are not stupid kids and that people are dying up there in the mines. They won’t listen to us without it.
Reinhardt’s eyes narrow as she tries to read me, but then she chills out and starts talking again. “I need to ask you about these three girls which had gone missing over the summer.” Pictures of the kidnapped students from last year are placed in our hands by Owens. “Did you have any interactions with them?”
“The one with the brown hair is Kimberly. She was one of the most reserved royals,” Sabrina informs them. “Everyone thought that she ran away with the QB to have their baby in Florida. I took her place in Leison’s games.”
“The other two?” Reinhardt asks.
“That’s Janet.” I point to the picture of a blond, glad to have recognized at least one of them. “She was, like, really smart, science-based I think. And that’s––”
Sabrina steps in for me. “That is Alicia. The victim.”
“What about the fourth?” Hazel asks, butting into the conversation. “You said there were four girls.”
“We are unsure about the fourth, but we will know who she is sooner than you think. As for now, this is speculation.”
My eyebrow rises in skepticism. “You’re not entirely positive that the remains found belong to the girls?”
Reinhardt looks at me with the same gaze. “We just barely uncovered the scene. Testing is still being performed for clarification.”
“What can we help you with, then?” Sabrina shows attitude. “Seems you’ve found your killer, haven’t you?” She shoots a mocking smile in Reinhardt’s direction and I elbow her.
Reinhardt watches Sabrina with pursed lips. “Did you see Mr. Leison today in school—or out of school?”
Owen’s sends Reinhardt a look to watch it. “Was he at school?” Owens asks us, getting back on topic.
“There was a sub in his place,” Sabrina explains and stares at me.
Reinhardt nods and evaluates me. “Why do you think he would call on a substitute teacher?”
I look at Owens. “Because you came to town and started knocking on doors.” Owens grants me a nod of agreement. “Leison was already freaking out over something,” I say quietly. “He attacked me yesterday. He left a really prominent mark on my neck where he held me. When I left his classroom, I ran into an officer and Principal Smith . . . well, they suspected something.”
“The Sheriff called for tight security at the school. The principal was unaware of the reason. He had no clue that Leison was assaulting girls,” Mom explains.
“So we thought,” Sabrina mentions. “A girl tattled on him a while back and a private case was opened on him. They found nothing. Ever since, Leison’s walked around with a smug smile. Smith hates him with a passion.”
“Did you tell Principal Smith what happened, Cecily?” Reinhardt questions.
I shake my head. “No. Leison threatened to kill Sabrina and the others if I did.”
Reinhardt sighs and is silent as she thinks for a second. “Why weren’t you telling the authorities that he was raping you?” she asks Sabrina with a masked face. She even forces the emotion from her eyes as she stares at her.
Sabrina’s eyes fill with tears. “He said he’d kill me and the others. The girls he holds hostage.”
For a brief second, compassion fills Reinhardt’s eyes. “Fear is their strongest weapon, young lady. How did you get roped into this?”
“I willingly slept with him, just like many girls before me. How was I supposed to know that he was a psychopath serial killer?”
Reinhardt nods once, as if already knowing Sabrina’s story. “How long has this been going on? How long has Leison been using you?”
Sabrina looks away. “Since the beginning of the school year. I took over Kimberly’s place after she left. I didn’t know that he had kidnapped her until now . . .”
“When did his interest in Cecily begin? Did he tell you?”
Sabrina looks at me sadly. “A month ago.”
“The assault was a week and a half ago,” I whisper. She knew about his plans for me for quite a while. Anger returns to me and I can’t help but to punch her in the arm. She should have stopped it! “Why, Sabrina, didn’t you stop him?!”
Hazel catches my wrist when I go to punch her again. “Cecily,” she whispers.
“And there was no way to warn her, to tell her to run away?” Reinhardt wonders, her eyebrow rising with interest as she watches me. “Sabrina, if you knew how horrible this man was, why didn’t tell her to run?”
Guilt fills Sabrina’s eyes as she takes another step away from me. “I was selfish,” she whispers. “I was sent after her to rope her into joining. If she joined, he’d set me free.”
“He’d kill you,” I remind her, tears filling my eyes.
She keeps talking, “There was a huge party and Cecily was supposed to be used for initiation for one of Leison’s goons. When Cecily didn’t show to the party, Leison beat me. Nonstop, I swear. I still have bruises.”
“No one feels sorry for you,” Hazel bites. “You
’re lucky you changed your ways, duchess.”
“Or what?” Sabrina hisses. “I’d be dead? Reality check, Queen Hazel, we all know that much.”
Owens outstretches his hand, halting the argument. “Enough.”
Reinhardt moves forward, intrigued. “Who’s the goon, Sabrina?”
“Aaron Heely.” Sabrina sends a glare toward Hazel.
I gasp, recognizing that name. “Roy was serious!”
“Who is Roy?” questions Owens.
The room became silent and all eyes are on me. I stare at Sabrina, knowing that she knows more than she’s telling. “Spill it,” I demand.
With a roll of her eyes, Sabrina caves. “Roy is Aaron’s little brother. They are both part of the cult that follows Leison.”
“Leison has a cult?” Reinhardt’s head tilts slightly as her eyes narrowed. “When did you plan on telling us this, Sabrina?”
“Never—” Hazel coughs.
Sabrina gives Hazel a death glare. “I’m not sure how many people follow him. My job was to gather the girls.”
“So that he could rape them . . .”
I sigh loudly. “Hazel, enough.”
Owens strokes his chin. “Do you know where the cult hides?”
“Probably the same place he hides the girls.” Sabrina shrugs. “I only ever saw Leison’s goons at Royal parties.”
“How many goons are there?”
“I honestly can’t tell you. He has eyes and ears everywhere, so I figure it’s more than just Aaron and his demented brother, Roy.”
Reinhart turns toward me. “What was it that Roy was serious about? You said he talked to you in World Civilizations.”
“He—” I feel my stomach drop. “He told me that Aaron wanted to have sex with me.”
“My guess is that it wouldn’t be voluntary either,” Hazel pipes in.
Sabrina snorts. “Well, Aaron is the least of your concerns.”
“What does that even mean?” I find myself glaring at her.
“If Leison catches you . . . he’ll be doing the honors himself.”
My stomach instantly contorts and I cover it with my hands. At the same time my mom gasps and her face goes white, like she’s going to pass out. The agents look at her, concerned.
Maybe we shouldn’t be chasing this mad man. “He’ll come for me . . . won’t he?”
Owens crosses his arms. Reinhardt’s penciled in eyebrows rise in disgust. She looks at Owens with apprehension before masking her emotion once more.
Sabrina keeps talking to the agents, “Leison makes the goons prove that they can be like him, a sick serial killer type. So, there is this initiation thing where the goon takes a vulnerable girl from a party and––”
I put my shaky hand up for her to stop talking. “I think we get it. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
Reinhardt’s eyes soften for just a moment. “I understand that you’re scared, Cecily.”
She doesn’t understand anything! I look down to hide my glare. She doesn’t know what it’s like to be terrified to no avail.
“Why would he push to get Cecily?” Hazel asks, looking at me.
“Because she was dark, remember . . . ?” Sabrina points to me. “You have to remember how desperate and mean she had become—you know—like me. She was a perfect target! She was the ‘Victim.’”
Mom can hardly stand to hear all of this. Both special agents look at me, eyes intent and mouths nearly pursed. “What changed then?” Reinhardt is intrigued by such a transformation.
My hands are thrown into the air. “I don’t freaking know! One minute I’m getting ready to go to that blasted party, the next I wake up on my floor with a new perspective on life.” I sigh. “And now I’m just more of a challenge to him, now that I have a sense of life again!”
Hazel seems so confused. “Cecily just isn’t his type. Why would he do this?”
Detective Owens glances at me, then Hazel. “Some serial killers get bored with their antics and want to change things up. Some just want to get caught. Maybe they enjoy the thrill of cutting it close. Maybe they see how disgusting they are and want to be stopped. It’s hard to say. Leison thought that Cecily would cave to his will, but when she didn’t, he had to change his game. He played on her moral strength—figured that if he told her he had hostages, she wouldn’t sic the cops on him. Now, he’s just playing games.”
“He’s pushing the envelope, making a power play,” Reinhardt explains. “It seems that, maybe, Cecily scared him with her turn around. Perhaps that is why we unearthed a crime scene and perhaps Leison has escaped once again.”
“Do you think he’s already made a run for it?” Sabrina asks. “The girls are dead and he has no more ties in this town—except for us.”
Owens and Reinhardt exchange wary looks. “Except for you . . .” Owens says quietly.
“He won’t come here, will he?” my mother asks frantically.
Neither Reinhardt nor Owens answer.
“We’ll gladly put a few federal officers around your house for safety,” Owens says when the silence starts to get awkward.
Hazel prods at me with her finger. “What about the map?” she whispers.
“What map?” Reinhardt asks, her eyes narrowing.
My eyes close and I try to breathe. “The map that Leison keeps in his classroom.”
“It shows coordinates of the where he keeps the girls,” Sabrina says quietly.
Reinhardt laughs. “You don’t really believe this, do you?”
“I saw it with my own eyes,” I defend.
“No killer would willingly let you see something so precious to their game plan.”
Sabrina steps forward. “We’ll see who’s right when we get it! We’ll shove it in your faces!”
Owens shakes his head. “Sabrina, don’t do this. Stay away from him, let us handle it.” He looks at me, brow tensed. “Cecily, you too. Especially you.”
Sabrina and I exchange looks, as if we have been stomped on and enslaved by their narrow perspectives and naïve perceptions of our strength. We’ll get that map, no matter what. The FBI clearly doesn’t care about the dying girls, now do they?
Staring at us, hands on hips, Reinhardt says, “Listen to me. Don’t do anything that will get you in trouble with this man, do you understand me?” She straightens up so she seems taller. “Especially over a map—of all things—because he will kill you. This is something serious. Stay out of the way and let the FBI do their job.”
Sabrina and I nod at the same time. Agent Reinhardt is clearly concerned about our wellbeing, as she ought to be. She also thinks that we are just annoying teenagers who talk big but can’t actually help. If she only knew what we had gone through with this conniving creature.
Her phone beeps, she takes it from her pocket, and looks down at the glowing screen. Her eyes squint and her lips purse ever so slightly. “Owens— Time to go.”
Agent Owens nods. “Goodbye, girls. Nina,” he says in passing.
Mom walks them to the door and follows them outside. We stay in the living room.
We hear Agent Reinhardt say, “Nina, don’t let those girls do anything stupid,” but the door closes before we can hear my mom reply.
Once the door closes, we start talking.
“He’s not gone. If it’s a trick to get the FBI off his back, it means that he’ll stay here and finish the job.” I glance worriedly at Sabrina. “Of taking us out. Even Owens says so.”
“Well, he can’t come to the school . . . they’ll catch him.” Sabrina seems letdown. “How are we going to get the map if he has it?”
“What about the girls he has captive?” Hazel wonders. “If the remains aren’t theirs, then whose are they and where did they come from?”
Sabrina glances at her, irritated. “They said he’s been doing this for twelve years. I’m sure he has a stash of bones that he uses in emergency situations, Hazel.”
We stare at her with widened eyes. Does she even know how horrible
that sounds?
I shake my head, disgusted. “He has the girls locked up somewhere in another cave and they are slowly dying.” I look directly into Sabrina’s, then Hazel’s, eyes. “Only the map will tell us where!”
Sabrina tilts her head. “So what do you suggest we do, oh brave one?”
“Shut it,” Hazel warns.
I cover my face so that I can think for a minute. All of this stress and fear is making us unreasonable. “Black light,” I say, my eyes widening. “We’ll take a black light to school and see if it’s the actual map or not. Maybe he leaves it there . . . ?”
“That’s a little farfetched, don’t you think?” Sabrina’s dark eyebrow shoots up.
“Darien has a black light flashlight,” Hazel says, in support of my idea.
I can’t help but to glare at Sabrina. “He’s not going to be there. We have free rein of his classroom.” I lean toward her. “And if Leison’s hiding away, we’ll probably find him in the same place where he’s keeping the girls. If we can get the FBI to follow us we can stop him. Otherwise, he’ll come after us . . .”
“You’re crazier than I realized, Wolf.” Sabrina folds her arms. “It seems utterly terrifying. But, either way, we might as well fight and die. That’s what my brother always said.”
A sympathetic smile lifts from the corner of my mouth. Her dead brother.
“I’ll contact Landon. He has a black light too,” Sabrina adds.
Hazel gives her an odd look. “Landon Ainsworth, Darien’s friend?”
“Yes,” Sabrina snaps. “I can have secret geeky friends, too. When I’m not the duchess, I’m a normal human. Landon’s my best friend.”
“Two geeks are way better than one,” Hazel says, referencing her own boyfriend.
For once today, I feel a little relief. We have our own little cavalry here.
Someone clears her throat. We turn and see my mom standing on the step, slouching against the wall. She does not look happy to have found us conspiring.
I didn’t even hear her come in.
She clears her throat before speaking. “You’re not going to chase the serial killer.”
“Mom, you don’t understand—” I begin.
“No, Cecily!” Mom has that look in her eye . . . the angry look she gets on her last leg of exhaustion. Her voice rises. “Twenty four, Cecily Wolf! That’s how many bodies they’ve found!”
