RILEY

Dez is running late, so Mom drives me to the school. She’s quiet, keeps the radio on low, and taps on the steering wheel. She might be more nervous than I am.

“I’ll be cheering you on in spirit, sweetie,” she says when she stops at the front door. She brings me in for a tight hug and kiss on the head. “I wish we didn’t have this thing for Dad tonight, but we can’t miss it. If I’d known about Guthrie coming … ”

“Mom.” I gently pull away. “It’s okay. I might do better without a crowd.” I smile. “Plus, I have Dez. It’ll be just fine.”

In the halls, I try to shake off my nerves. I hear footsteps behind me. Thinking it’s one of the crew, I turn around, wanting the distraction.

Instead, I almost slam into Will. His eyes are just as icy as they were that day in the garden. My hands go cold, and I quickly turn back around and pick up my pace.

“Wait, Riley,” he calls out.

I keep moving.

“Hey, I want to talk to you about that video.”

Oh no.

I turn the corner.

“Libby told me what you saw,” he yells.

It’s him. He did it. He wants to shut me up.

I get closer to the auditorium and there are people everywhere. I blend into the crowd and keep moving.

Once I make it to the auditorium, I’m shaking. I feel like I’m losing it. I don’t know what to think about Will or Tori or Devlin or even Libby. I feel like I can’t trust my instincts anymore.

I try to push it all away for now. Thankfully, I fit right into the chaos. You can actually feel the tension in the air. It’s much worse than it was at our screening. Homer is so frazzled that he makes me look calm. People from eight Midwest schools are preparing for auditions and interviews with local community colleges, tech schools, and a few universities. The Guthrie program gets to use the main auditorium before the film screenings begin. The staff tries to keep the auditions private but people are sneaking in, in clusters.

My audition is right in the middle of the line-up. Dez gave out the times for our group last week.

I keep looking over my shoulder, worried that Will’s going to come for me. I hang out and wait for Dez to arrive with our sandwich, but he never does. I’m still in my sweats, but don’t want to go to the dressing room until I see Dez. Instead, it’s Stella who joins me.

“Are you ready for tonight?”

“As I’ll ever be, I guess.” I take my shirt sleeve and dab the sweat beads forming on my forehead.

“Hey, are you okay?”

I shake my head, knowing Stella will set me straight.

“What is it?”

“Okay, don’t think I’m crazy.”

“Too late.” She pats my hand.

“I think Will is up to something. Something bad.”

“Will Thomas?”

“Yeah. I think he may have hurt Ms. Dunn.”

“What do you mean, hurt?”

“I think he’s the one who killed her,” I blurt out.

“Think?”

“Yes, it’s just a theory right now,” I say, and then it comes to me. “Hey, could you do me a favor?”

“I think so. What is it?”

“Do they still give the office workers keys?”

“Yeah, but just for the reception area. Not the principal’s office or anything.”

“Where do they keep attendance records?”

Stella grins. “I can access them from the computer in the reception area. What do you need to know?”

“Will’s attendance record in September.”

“Done,” she says. “But I have one question for you.”

“Okay.”

“Just how many theories do you have about Ms. Dunn’s murder?”

“About four. Maybe five,” I admit, feeling my credibility slip.

Stella’s demeanor doesn’t change. She just nods and looks at her watch. “All right, Riley. But enough of this for right now. You need to get in your happy place for the audition.”

“You’re right.” I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. I feel better knowing Stella is on the case with me.

“I have something for you,” she says, reaching for my hand. She drops one of her bracelets in my palm. “It’s for luck.”

“Cool, thanks,” I say, touched.

“Knock ’em dead, Riley.”

I clench the bracelet in my hand and smile.

She stops before heading to the back. “Oh, by the way, did Dez find your necklace?”

“Necklace?”

“Yeah. He was here earlier looking for it. Did he find it?”

Before I can answer, Homer interrupts us.

“Riley, I need you over here for a minute.”

I run through my monologue with Homer, but I can’t concentrate. Dez is still a no-show.

“He’ll be here, Riley,” Homer says. “Let’s just get you through your scene.”

He works with me in a small room down the hall from the auditorium. I wait until the last possible minute to get dressed. I picked out a tasteful white blouse and black pants, and I don’t want to stain it with the sweat that’s been secreting from my body for the last hour.

When I can’t wait any longer, I go to the dressing room. There’s still no sign of Dez.