The words tumbled from my mouth as though they had minds of their own. Like my mother would send me back to Ridge Grove? I wish.
Gabby gazed down at me imperiously. "I don't care that you hear dead people or solved a murder with freaking flowers. Just stay away from my boyfriend."
Without another word, she flounced off. Flowers? What an odd thing to say. "Wait a second," I called out. She kept walking. "Do you know anything about a dead marigold and a note?"
I hoped she'd ask me what the heck I was talking about. Instead, she turned and looked me in the face, her lips curving into a smile.
She must have been worried about me stealing her boyfriend long before now, back to when they first started going out. As I watched her round a corner, I wished I had telekinesis.
***
Malcontent Rushes in Where Grier Crier Fears to Tread
The Malcontent commends the stunning Claire Capwell '15 for finally reporting on the rumored cheating scandal at Thomas Grier. We Grierdons have heard for some time that a student who walks these esteemed halls has aided several Ivy League-bound kids in making the grade. Miss Capwell's use of unnamed sources undermines the story's credibility, however.
The blogger will rush in where the Grier Crier fears to tread. The blogger suspects that Embry Sullivan '15 was the mastermind behind the now-defunct Private Paper. Such students as the accused manslaughteress, Sinder Gillespie '15, were among Mr. Sullivan's customers, as well as future supermodel Gabby Meyerson '15. The blogger has it on good authority that Bradley Woodgrove '14 and Pearson Davis '14 also bought papers.
The Malcontent also learned that the dearly departed Desmond Drake cheated. He bought a paper and somehow found out who wrote and sold it to him.
According to the time stamp, the blog post was published in the last thirty minutes. Luke not only gave up Embry and his girlfriend, he lied to me. But he hadn't mentioned Mr. Howard. How did he find out about Gabby? My mind reeled. I felt two parts betrayed and one part stunned. Embry was going to kill me, and Gabby was going to dig me up and kill me again. Then I remembered her prank and didn't feel as bad for her.
At the final bell, I raced through the halls and out to the school parking lot to catch Luke. I spotted him leaning against a wall and flirting with a dark-haired sophomore. He looked up as I approached.
I grabbed his arm. "Excuse us a moment?" I said to his companion, pulling him around a corner.
He looked amused. "I like a woman who isn't afraid to take what she wants."
"Cut it out," I said. "Why did you publicly accuse Embry?"
"I wanted to stir things up."
"But I don't know if Embry wrote those papers. And you said our conversation wouldn't end up on that blog."
He folded his arms. "I said I wouldn't share our conversation, and I haven't. I didn't mention you."
I set my jaw. I'm an idiot. "Either I'm a fool, or you're a jackass. In fact, it's probably both."
Luke had the nerve to smirk at me. I called him a name so dirty, I knew I'd feel guilty for a week.
He stopped smirking yet remained cool. "You said yourself that the term paper site disappeared after you asked Embry about it. Sinder admitted to buying a paper. The rest, well, I have my sources."
"You accused a close friend and your girlfriend of cheating. Your girlfriend. You realize they'll both get kicked out of here if the school finds proof?"
He set his face in mock concern. "Integrity is more important. Besides, Gabby's not my girlfriend."
I widened my eyes. "That's not what she thinks. She stopped me this morning and told me to stay away from you."
"And you just couldn't, right?"
I rolled my eyes. "And I think she put the note and the dead flower in my locker."
His teasing expression faltered for a second or two.
This isn't a game, Luke. One person is dead, and another will be."
His expression changed again. This one betrayed barely concealed excitement.
"Another...what does that mean?"
I bit my tongue. "Nothing."
"Spill it, Jones. You had a dream, didn't you?" He grabbed my arms and held me against the wall. "Someone else is going to be murdered? Who?"
"I don't know," I said, trying to loosen his grip. "I didn't see who it was." I told him as much as I could remember, including the long fingernails.
"Holy crap," he said. He let go of me and ran a hand through his hair. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? I thought we were working together?"
I scoffed. "Like you consulted me when you decided to name Embry as the paper writer? Do you know what's going to happen to him if—"
"Who cares about that?" he said. "Somebody killed Desmond, and you're worrying about Embry's college future?"
"I'm worried about all of it," I said. My eyes stung with tears. "What you did might be the reason this unknown girl gets killed. That girl might be Gabby."
He took a step back and heaved a steadying breath. His lips went white. He ran a hand through his hair again and began to pace. "You've got a lot a nerve preaching to me, Jones. I'm trying to smoke out a killer, and apparently it's working. He—or she—is going to kill again."
I shook my head. "That doesn't make sense. If the killer is one of the people you named, what's the point in killing again now that the secret is exposed?"
He held up a finger and pointed at me. "Whatever happens now is your fault."
I set my jaw to keep my lips from trembling. I will not cry. "My fault?"
"You dreamed that someone else is going to be snuffed out, and what do you focus on? Gabby and Embry getting kicked out of school."
"Luke?"
A few feet away, Gabby stood within earshot. She held up her phone. "You did this? You told everyone I cheated?"
He adopted an unconvincingly breezy air. "What are you talking about?"
"I heard you and Guinan," she said. "You run that blog."
"Gabby, I didn't tell Luke about you. I kept my promise, I don't know how—"
"Like it matters," she said, glancing at the cell. She'd been reading the post on it. I looked at her fingernails. Long, but not as long as the ones in my dream. I brushed past both. Luke called after me, but I didn't turn around.
Chapter Twenty-Four
"I could get into trouble for this," Detective Czarnecki said.
We sat in the police station lobby. She'd called and asked to see me. Important case developments had turned up.
"It's not our policy to alert people, especially not a minor, about an upcoming announcement."
I followed her lead and kept my voice low. "What announcement?"
She pressed her lips together, then blew out a long breath. "There were no traces of peanuts in any of the brownies or other food we tested."
I furrowed my brow.
"We also tested bottles and cups of water, coffee, juice, and soda. Nothing." The detective ran a hand across her hair and straightened her jacket. "We knew early on that the food tested negative for peanuts. But I wanted the lab to double-check, triple-check. In the meantime, when I learned that Sinder had peanut oil on that altar..." She trailed off.
"She said she was set up."
"She told me the same," the detective said. "That's expected, though."
I sat back and processed what I'd heard. No peanuts in the food, but there was peanut oil in the canola bottle and on Sinder's altar. "I don't see how...then why did you arrest her for involuntary manslaughter?"
Detective Czarnecki's expression was dour. "Because she still could have given it to him. Listen, I already determined that she'd slipped him a so-called love potion before. She could have done the same this time, but with fatal consequences. In fact, she could have tainted the canola oil as well."
I shook my head. "She wouldn't do that."
"Miss Jones, how do you know what Sinder would or wouldn't do? You just arrived at that school. You don't know those kids."
I didn't want to get sidetracked. "Okay, so Sinder was
charged with manslaughter because you thought she could have done. Yet, you knew the food wasn't poisoned."
The detective set her jaw and frowned. "She was my strongest suspect."
I leaned forward and rubbed my face.
"I have dug into backgrounds and previous incidents," the detective said, "including the shooting incident involving Desmond and Embry Sullivan. I've mentioned 'poisoned brownies' to the five of you as well as several other students I questioned. I didn't expect anyone to blurt out that the brownies weren't poisoned, but I'd hoped for a slip-up."
How did the peanuts get inside Desmond? I told her about the Agatha Christie-novel theory of the bee sting that was actually a syringe of death.
"I doubt it," she said. "The autopsy report didn't mention any needle marks."
I slid to the edge of the chair. The air seemed to crackle with electricity. "If they weren't looking for needle marks—"
"Our pathologists look for that sort of thing in cases of suspicious deaths," she said. "If there'd been evidence of an injection, they would have found it."
Almost a minute passed before either of us spoke.
The detective brushed her hair behind her ears. "The thing he was allergic to got inside him somehow. At any rate, the DA is dropping charges against Sinder."
I think I pulled a Tamzen Parker and squealed. I definitely clapped.
"I thought you'd appreciate that."
I looked at the detective. She didn't share my relief. She still had to find a killer. "About those bottles of water you tested," I said.
"As I said before, none of them—"
"Were there protein water bottles among them? That's the kind Desmond was drinking. Luke had some, too."
Detective Czarnecki let out a long breath. "Not that I recall. But I'll get back to you." She got to her feet.
"Can't you find out now?" I said.
She gaped at me. "I thought you'd be relieved that Sinder Gillespie's cleared."
"I am, but it's not over."
"Miss Jones," the detective said, peering down at me, "As far as you're concerned, it's over." She started to walk away.
I jumped up. "Then why did you call me down here?"
The officer manning the front desk looked up. Detective Czarnecki turned to me, her face wooden. She cracked a phony smile. "I'm beginning to wonder. The truth is, I asked for your help, and I knew you were worried about Sinder. I wanted you to know the charges were being dropped before the news went public."
I shuffled my feet, feeling childish and ungrateful. "It's not over. My dream. Someone is going to be killed."
Her expression was unreadable, but she maintained eye contact. She seemed to be trying to communicate something to me. Why not just say it? Because it would be unprofessional. Something...psychic. I sensed embarrassment, anxiety, and curiosity.
Without another word, she disappeared down the hall. Though Sinder was no longer a suspect, she was still a potential victim of someone's rage—a predator angry enough to squeeze the life out of its prey.
***
I ignored Luke's text messages.
"It's not against the law to adopt your own grandchild," Granddad said, "or call your son your brother."
"Maybe Ione would do anything to keep people from learning the truth?"
"That's a big leap," he said.
I leaned against the kitchen counter and watched Granddad eat the last slice of pumpkin pie.
"What about this boy you like," Granddad said, pointing at me with the fork. "What's his story?"
My stomach clenched. I glanced at my phone again. Luke had texted three times.
"Have you even considered he might have done it?" Granddad said.
"I've considered it. But I can't think of a reason why. Besides, I'm sure the police scoured Luke's background for motive."
My grandfather looked at my phone. "Answer him and find out what's so important."
My cell alerted again. I read the message: Haven't been honest w/ u. Must talk.
I looked at Granddad as if he were the psychic. I responded, and less than a minute later, Luke was on his way to my house. When the bell rang, I headed for the door. My father beat me to it. I stood a few feet behind him, expecting the usual arrogant boy I had to deal with in school.
"Good evening. I'm Luke Chapman, a friend of Guinan's. May I speak with her briefly?"
My father looked back at me, his eyebrows raised. I nodded.
"Please, come in," he said, stepping aside.
Luke gave a quick smile. "You have a lovely home."
"Thanks in no small part to my wife."
I watched Luke's deferential performance and waited while they exchanged small talk. After my father left us alone, I showed Luke to the living room. He brushed his hands against his jeans and sat on one end of the couch.
"Thanks for seeing me, considering what I said to you earlier."
I sat at the other end. "I figured it must be important, since you texted multiple times."
He cleared his throat. "I was angry when I said that whatever happens is your fault. I didn't mean it."
Despite my effort to remain cool toward him, some of the frost melted.
"I really wanted to work with you on this thing," he said. "What you can do...I'm in awe."
I couldn't tell if he was being truthful. He was looking at this hands, not my eyes.
"What haven't you been completely honest about?"
"Two things, actually." Luke rubbed his hands together and looked me in the face. "My source for the cheaters is Claire. She ratted them out."
I raised my eyebrows but didn't respond.
"I convinced her, quite easily, to work with me. I told her I was the Malcontent. I'd name whoever she quoted anonymously, and that way, the truth would come out."
I asked the question I didn't want the answer to. "How did you convince her, Luke?"
He frowned. "I told her I'd ditch Gabby and go out with her."
Taking in his features, I couldn't tear my eyes away. Why did girls fall for it? Ask yourself the same question. "She stabbed her best friend in the back. For you."
A flash of the old arrogance flitted across his face, and vanished just as quickly.
"What's the other thing you haven't been truthful about?"
He laid his hands flat on his lap and looked at me. "It's about Ione. Actually, me, Desmond, and Ione." In the few seconds before he spoke again, my mind spun with possibilities. "I'm not proud of it, and I don't think it's relevant. But I wanted you to know. In case it might..." He paused. "In case it might be important."
The seconds seemed to pass like minutes.
"I used to like Ione. A lot. We grew up going to the same church, and I used to joke about us getting married."
I tried to picture him with Ione. I couldn't.
"That was a long time ago," he said quickly, shifting his weight. "Kid stuff, you know?"
I thought about Zeke. "Yeah, I know. But what does this have to do—"
"When I realized she liked Embry, I was a little steamed. Embry acted like he wasn't interested in girls. That's partly why Drake made fun of him."
I'd seen pictures of a gawky-era Embry. "So Ione liked him before he got taller and better looking?"
He nodded. "Desmond and I came up with this sick plan. Sick, as in bad." Luke kept glancing at my hands. Without realizing it, I was flexing them into fists. I folded them tightly in my lap.
"Her mother had recently lost another baby," he said, "and Ione was pretty bummed about it, herself."
"You and Desmond took advantage of her?" It was more of a statement.
He held eye contact with me. "Her mother's had...some problems. She was seeing a shrink."
I thought about my meetings with Mr. Howard.
"Rumor was, she tried to kill herself," Luke said. "Now, here comes the sick part. Desmond and I made a bet to see which one of us could...you know."
I cocked an eyebrow.
Luke's face flushed. "Desmond
won the bet. He and Ione started going out. I think she went out with him only because Embry acted like he wasn't interested."
"You're saying that Ione and Desmond had sex?"
He nodded.
I realized there was no way that Embry didn't know or at least suspect this. "Is Asher Desmond's son?"
Luke scratched his cheek. "We suspected as much, but Desmond wasn't ready to be father. To my knowledge, he never said anything to Ione about it."
"Embry told me she's a virgin." I expected Luke to scoff. He surprised me.
"I guess that's what he needs to believe."
"How do you think this might help the case?" I said.
He furrowed his brow. "The case? Oh, I don't think this...I came here to tell you what I'd done and to apologize."
I didn't know what to say to this. "Did you or Desmond ever tell Ione about the bet?"
"I certainly didn't, and I can't imagine he did, either."
Confused, I studied his face to find clarity in it. The red-brick wall appeared unbidden inside my head. I made no effort to make it disappear. "What you did was disgusting."
"You don't have to tell me that, Jones." Luke stood and began pacing. A lock of hair flopped lazily over his forehead. "It's just one of those things some guys do. I didn't think Desmond would actually get her into bed." He glanced at me. "I guess this means you're never going out with me now."
I lowered my gaze. "I might leave Thomas Grier. Maybe go back to Ridge Grove."
He stopped pacing and faced me. "I see. Back to Zeke Hicks?"
I rose from the couch. "He has nothing to do with it."
"Nothing?" he said, approaching me. "You're hung up on him. You miss him. That's not a bad thing."
It was my turn to smirk. I folded my arms across my chest. "Luke Chapman, jealous. Nobody would believe it."
He was close enough now that I could see green flecks in his eyes. "That's me. A jealous jackass."
"On second thought, I don't think it's jealousy. I'm just a challenge. Like the bet you made with Desmond."
Mourning Moon (A Guinan Jones Paranormal Mystery #2) Page 14
