Blood of Dawn

by Tami Dane

  I paused, unsure whether the yeller was speaking to me or someone else.

  It was Braces Boy. And he was looking right at me. So I waited.

  “That was awesome.” He jerked his head toward the building. “Sutton’s an asshole, but all the girls are afraid of him. You’re the first girl who actually put him in his place.”

  “Why are they all afraid of him? I mean, he is sort of creepy. But it wasn’t that hard to stop him.”

  “Didn’t you know?” Braces Boy adjusted his backpack.

  “Know what?”

  “There’s a rumor that he killed a girl. At his old school.”

  “No, I didn’t know that.” Immediately, I wondered why Jia hadn’t mentioned it. Maybe she knew it wasn’t true, so she didn’t bother mentioning it? Or maybe she was afraid to tell me?

  “I hope, for your sake, it’s just a rumor.”

  “Me too.”

  “Name’s Nate.”

  “I’m Sloan.” We exchanged head nods. “Are there any other rumors I should be aware of?”

  Nate’s lips curled. “How much time do you have?”

  “How much time do you have?”

  He started toward the sidewalk, motioning for me to follow. “Come with me. I live down the road. We can walk. I’ll fill you in.”

  Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in Nate’s kitchen, watching him make tuna salad sandwiches on wheat. His sister, as it turned out, was the short brunette who’d been standing next to him. She’d disappeared the instant I stepped into the house, whispering something to herself as she clomped up the stairs to the second floor.

  “Your sister doesn’t like me,” I said, watching her hasty retreat.

  “She likes you. She’s just afraid to be associated with you. In case, Sutton . . . you know.”

  “Speaking of that, what exactly did Sutton do? Has anyone ever said?”

  “I believe he strangled his ex-girlfriend.”

  That wasn’t our killer’s MO. But this conversation was still very interesting.

  “Strangled?” My mind flashed back to that moment when he’d had me pinned against the wall. Had his gaze flicked to my neck? Now that I thought about it, it had. “I knew he was creepy, but I wouldn’t have guessed he might be a murderer. You said there are other rumors. About him or someone else?”

  “Lots of rumors, but no more about him. Supposedly, Hailey Roberts was pregnant over Christmas break and had an abortion. The father was Mr. Hollerbach.”

  “The teacher!”

  “Yep.”

  “If that’s the case, why’s he still teaching?”

  “The school did an investigation, but Hailey’s parents didn’t report it until after the fact. No DNA meant the police couldn’t find enough evidence to indict him.”

  “Wow.” I needed to have a chat with Jia. If she didn’t know about the other girl, she needed to be told.

  “And then there’s the rumor about Zoey Urish. I heard she’s addicted to ‘bath salts’ and was thrown into the hospital a couple of nights ago, after having hallucinations about some undead spirit monster trying to kidnap her.”

  That hallucination, ironically, sounded mighty familiar. Speaking of which, I hadn’t heard from Elmer in a couple of nights, since I’d left that threatening message, demanding the return of my memory. I made a mental note to call him again. Of course, we’d already crossed Urish off the list. JT hadn’t told me details, but now I knew why she couldn’t be our killer.

  “Bath salts?” I questioned, not sure what that addiction could be.

  “They’re not the smelly kind you dump in a bathtub. It’s a synthetic drug marketed as Up Energizing Aromatherapy Powder.” He made quotation marks in the air. “I guess it’s real popular in the West.”

  That was a sad story. Addiction destroyed lives, but it didn’t pertain to our investigation. “Anyone else I should avoid?”

  Nate set a plate on the counter in front of me; then he sat on the stool at my right, his plate in front of him. “Um . . . you should probably steer clear from most of the football players. But that’s not because they’ve killed anyone.” He took a bite of his sandwich. Chewed.

  “What about the girls who’ve died? Any rumors about what happened to them?”

  He swallowed before answering. “Lots of rumors, but none that make any sense. I heard Stephanie Barnett had been in a fight with Hailey Roberts the week before she died. But I know for a fact that wasn’t true. I also heard Emma Walker said Stephanie stole her iPod.”

  “Both those rumors are false?”

  “Yes, I think so. I was . . . kind of seeing Megan, Stephanie’s best friend. She told me about it.”

  Megan, the girl who’d killed herself.

  Interesting.

  He didn’t seem very upset about Megan’s death. I decided not to tell him about the conversation in the girls’ room. “What do you think happened to Stephanie, Emma, and Hailey?”

  “I have no idea. But what I can say is that the three girls were all seen with a guy—not the same one—within hours of their deaths. I’m wondering if there isn’t one killer, but maybe two or more of them.”

  I hadn’t thought of that possibility. “Do you think it’s a gang? Maybe hazing of some kind?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Great. I guess I’ll just avoid being with any guy until the police sort out what’s happening.” I gave him a sheepish look. “Oh, no!”

  “What?”

  “I left school with you. We were alone. We are alone. . . .”

  He shook his head hard. “I promise, I haven’t killed anyone. I wouldn’t. Couldn’t. I’m not a part of the crowd those guys hang with. You’re safe. I promise.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “On the other hand, you did knee Sutton in the balls. I wouldn’t walk that way tomorrow. He’s not going to be so friendly the next time you run into him.”

  “You have my word on that.” My backpack started playing JT’s ringtone. “That’s my mom. She’s probably wondering where I am.” I lifted one index finger while I rooted around in the bottom of my backpack with the other hand, searching for my phone. By the time I found it, it had stopped ringing. I hit the green button, returning the call.

  “Hey,” I said when JT answered.

  “Where are you? You promised you’d be here by three-thirty.”

  “Oh.” I checked the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. “Um, I’m having some lunch with a friend.”

  “Do you know how freaked out I was? What friend? Where are you?”

  “I’m at Nate’s house.”

  “Who’s Nate?”

  “A friend.” I didn’t like how this conversation was going. Ironic, that I’d told Nate my mother had called, and JT was sounding a lot like an over-protective mother. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Yes, there is. . . .”

  As JT lectured me, I started feeling guiltier and guiltier. I could understand why JT was stressing out. I’d basically told him yesterday that I was too scared to go back to school; then I changed my mind and told him I was going back, anyway, even though the chief had told him I was done. And I had disappeared. JT continued ranting and I couldn’t get a word in, so I sat and waited for him to stop to inhale.

  “Sloan, you’re part of a team. A team. We work together. Where are you? What’s the address?”

  “I don’t know the exact address. I’m less than a half of a block from the school.”

  “Which way?”

  “‘Which way,’” I echoed, leaning in my seat to look out the living-room window in front of me, which faced the street. “Where are you?”

  “In the school parking lot . . . staring at what remains of your car.”

  “What do you mean ‘what remains’?” A cold shiver buzzed up my spine. I glanced at Nate. He was listening to my end of the conversation. “The house is north of the school, on the right. I’ll come outside.” I clicked off, shoved my phone in my backpack, and stood. “I
’m sorry, but I have to leave.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “I guess not. That was a friend . . . of my mother’s. Something happened to my car.”

  “No way. I bet it was Sutton. It has to be.” He was on his feet too, his footsteps pounding after me as I sprinted for the front door. Before I left, I cautioned, “Maybe you shouldn’t come with me. Maybe your sister was onto something by avoiding me?”

  “To hell with that. I’m going.”

  He was over six feet tall and determined. There was no stopping him.

  Out we went. JT’s car came roaring up, skidding to a stop in front of the house.

  JT powered down the window. “Get in. The fire department’s just about got the fire out.”

  “Fire?” I glanced over my shoulder at Nate.

  His eyes got a little buggy. “On second thought, I’d better stay here.” He looked left, then right, and raced back into his house, like a roach caught in the middle of the kitchen floor.

  I flung my bag onto JT’s backseat; then I flopped into the passenger seat.

  JT jerked his head toward Nate’s house. “Looks like your new friend doesn’t want to be friends anymore. Is it maybe because you’ve made yourself a new enemy?”

  “What makes you think that?” I smirked.

  JT actually laughed.

  We drove back down the street, parked as close as we could to the lot where my car had been parked, and walked the rest of the way. The first thing I noticed was the blackened skeleton of my car and the stench of toxic fumes. The fire had been extinguished, but I could still hear the faint hiss of water evaporating off the hot metal.

  “It was only a knee in the crotch,” I grumbled, staring at my crispy car.

  “Hmm. I guess you kneed the wrong guy’s nuts.”

  “It sure looks that way. Can we prove it was him?”

  “I don’t know.” JT glanced around at the firemen, who were packing up their equipment. “Let’s see if they’ve found the cause of the fire.” He turned a full three-sixty before finally saying, “There’s the chief.” With purpose-filled strides, he cut across the lot. I trailed behind him, unable to keep up. When I reached them, they were already discussing the suspected cause of the fire.

  JT turned to me. “The fire started in the front passenger seat.”

  That was where my laptop bag had been sitting. Inside my laptop bag had been my flashy new computer. Had the battery been the culprit, or did Derik Sutton decide I needed to pay for what I’d done?

  “Is there any way to tell exactly what caused the fire?” I asked.

  The fireman answered, “We have several witnesses who state they saw nobody tampering with the vehicle before the fire. We also have the investigators reviewing the school’s security tape. That should give us the information we need. But at this point, we’re thinking something in your car’s front seat may have been the culprit.”

  Wasn’t that just great? I hadn’t even had the computer for a week, and already it had been converted into landfill fodder.

  “What rotten luck,” I grumbled.

  “Sorry, Sloan.” JT patted my back. “I guess I jumped to conclusions.”

  “That was easy enough to do. Aren’t we lucky?” I partially joked. “Your car was torched, thanks to some faulty wiring and a heavy rainstorm, and today it’s mine.”

  “Maybe someone’s trying to tell us we need to start using public transit.”

  “Like that’s possible. I put on almost five hundred miles last week, driving back and forth to Quantico.” I sighed. “On the bright side, with my folks away on their honeymoon, at least I have access to a car while I’m waiting for the insurance claim to be paid.”

  “At least there’s that.” JT steered me back toward his vehicle. “How about we head over to the PBAU first? Before all of this, I think you had some information about the case?”

  “Sure. We can work for a while. That’ll take my mind off this.”

  An hour later, I wasn’t in my cubby, talking to JT about Mr. Hollerbach and his thing for teenage girls, like I’d expected to be. Instead, I was sitting in the chief’s office, informing her about the vehicle fire and the incident with Derik Sutton. The chief appeared sympathetic about the fire. The knee-in-the-nuts situation was entirely different.

  When I told her, her lips clamped. She didn’t speak for several excruciating seconds. I took her silence as a bad, bad sign.

  “Skye, you have every right to defend yourself if you feel threatened. However, you must be extremely cautious about using physical force when you’re working undercover—particularly when you’re dealing with underage minors.”

  She kindly didn’t mention the fact that she had ordered me to withdraw from my undercover assignment prior to the incident.

  I nodded. “I did think about that, Chief, but this individual has physically assaulted me more than once, and has a history—”

  “And you were pulled from the assignment,” she interrupted, her jaw a little tighter.

  And there it was.

  I had no response. I had been pulled. And I decided to go back, which was in direct opposition to her command. “I take full responsibility for my poor judgment. However, because of my decision, I was able to gain some valuable information about the student in question, as well as a teacher who is rumored to have been in more than one affair with several others—”

  “Skye, you disregarded my direct order. As a result, you put yourself in a position where you physically assaulted a minor. If anything comes of the assault—if charges are entered—I’ll be forced to terminate you. And you’ll have forfeited your chance to join our team as a full member. Please”—she leveled a serious look at me—“do not make that mistake again.”

  “I’m so sorry. I promise, I won’t.”

  “Good. I realize I’ve set a bad example by sending you out into the field, against my superior’s direct orders as well. But that’s ending right now. From this point forward, you’re to be either here or in the company of Thomas or myself during working hours. I screwed up. We were skating on thin ice by having you work the field. I trusted you to make wise decisions and limit your risk.”

  Wow, I had really messed up. “But I registered for summer school, myself. Technically, you didn’t send me.”

  “True. But—”

  “I’d be happy to talk to anyone you want, explain how I decided to go to the school—”

  “No, Sloan. That’s okay. It’s better if I handle this situation.”

  “I’m sorry, Chief. I hope this doesn’t blow up into something really bad. I thought I was doing what was best for the team. And for the potential victims.”

  “I know. Your heart was in the right place, but not your head.” She pointed at my forehead. “You need to think, Skye. Always think. I’m talking to myself here, too. There sometimes is a difference between doing what is best for the team and doing what is best for the victims. If you can’t recognize that line, or decide to cross it, anyway, you’ll eventually do something you’ll regret.”

  “Got it. Think first, act second.”

  “Yes. Now I’ll need a thorough report of the incident. And I also want a report of any information you’ve gained during the last twenty-four hours.” Her phone rang, and she glanced down at the glowing button. “I hope the risk was worth it, Skye.”

  “I’ll get both written up today.”

  I headed out of her office, feeling like I’d been thoroughly flogged.

  What a mess I’d made. My first instinct was to call Jia and see if she would talk to Derik on my behalf, convince him not to report the incident to anyone. But if that backfired, I’d be in even more trouble.

  No. As the chief had clearly stated, I needed to think carefully through every movement I made before I did anything.

  I slumped into my chair and stared at my loaner laptop. I flipped the top up and hit the power button, waiting for the hard drive to start spinning.

  “You look like your pu
ppy has been stolen.” Sitting in his cubby, JT leaned back in his chair so he could peer into my cubicle.

  “I feel like crap.” I was staring at the stupid, slow-as-a-slug computer. I couldn’t face him. I was ashamed, embarrassed.

  “Everyone makes mistakes, Skye.”

  “But I don’t. Not these kinds of mistakes.”

  JT pulled his chair from his cubby and rolled it up next to mine. He sat, then grabbed my armrests, turning me to face him. “Nobody’s perfect.”

  “I know. But I’ve always been the good student, the good daughter.”

  “And you still are. You just let yourself get carried away. Every agent I’ve ever worked with has made that kind of mistake, at least once in his career. It happens. Especially when a case hits you personally, when you can relate to the victims on some level.”

  I dropped my head into my hands. “We weren’t getting anywhere. I didn’t know what else to do. I hope the chief doesn’t get into trouble.”

  JT set one hand on my shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up over this. It’ll blow over, and you’ll be back in the field.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t be in the field. Maybe I’m not capable of working a case without getting too emotionally involved?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. It’s too soon to say. Like I told you, we’ve all made the same mistake, me, the chief. Does that mean none of us should be agents? That none of us are cut out to do this job?”

  He made a good point.

  “I suppose not,” I said on a sigh.

  “It’s tough work.”

  “That it is.” I finally looked up. There wasn’t any hint of disappointment or condemnation in his eyes. I expected to see at least a little.

  “Feel any better?” he asked.

  “Not really.”

  “Okay, how about if I tell you about the case I screwed up?”

  “That probably won’t make me feel better, but you’ve stirred my curiosity.”

  He leaned back and rested an ankle on his knee. “Get comfortable. This is going to take a while.”

  To make no mistakes is not in the power of man; but from their errors and mistakes the wise and good learn wisdom for the future.