I realized right away that I was never going to have enough time to fully explore April’s phone. There were a million and one ways she could be communicating with people: emails, texts, instant messages, social media direct messages, chat apps. I’d even heard of apps that didn’t save the user’s message exchanges. The words would disappear shortly after they were sent, like some kind of fading invisible ink.
Yet, things had worked out for me so far. I wouldn’t give up. With no time to waste, I went straight to April’s text messages and skimmed as fast as I could.
I saw immediately that the most recent communications were with people I’d never heard of. Some were inane notes with friends back home. But some were another sort altogether. From what I could tell in my hasty review, most of these senders fell into one of two categories: customers and people who worked for April. Messages to the latter consisted of instructions about making and delivering “T.” Has to be poppy tea! More important (based on her prolific usage of all caps) were directions on how to transfer payments to her.
In her messages to the customers, April made promises about how good the “T” was and connected them with one of her workers. She also repeatedly warned these folks that they’d better deal with her alone—and definitely not “Iza,” who “only cares about himself.”
Iza?
I wished I could capture the messages somehow—forward them to myself or take pictures of them. Of course, that was impossible. I’d just have to commit them to memory. On the other hand, I didn’t need to remember them verbatim to understand the gist. It was obvious to me that April was trying to take Professor Lowry’s place. She wanted to be the Poppy Tea Queen.
Still, I hadn’t found the smoking gun I was looking for. I needed to find out what she was thinking immediately after Lowry’s murder. Scanning through her contacts, I found the messages with Vince and Isaiah. Which to open first? Time was running out. I had to choose one. My finger hovered between the two names and finally clicked on Vince. Then I had to scroll up (through a hundred exchanges!) to find the messages from last Saturday.
Finally, I reached the right time frame—and found the payoff. I could hardly believe what I read.
April: OMG he did it. I can’t believe he did it. Why didn’t he wait?
Vince: He probably saw his opportunity. Or got tired of you trying to talk him out of it.
April: Weren’t you trying to talk him out of it too? I thought we agreed. We all wanted out, but this wasn’t the way.
Vince: He did what he thought he had to.
April: I guess. Now that L is gone, somebody will have to step up. You know?
Vince: I’m done. You can battle it out with Iza.
“Iza” had to be a nickname for Isaiah. This was the second mention of him in April’s texts. I rapidly scrolled back in time, stopping on Friday, the day before the trip. The name “Iza” jumped out at me again.
April: Iza is starting to worry me. I don’t think he’s joking about you know what.
Vince: I’ll talk to him.
April: Seriously. He says he knows the perfect spot. A lookout point overlooking a cliff or something. He has it all planned out.
Vince: I said I’ll talk to him.
I was so enthralled with the text exchange between April and Vince that I almost forgot where I was. I nearly jumped out of my skin when the kitchen door burst open.
“Wait up!” Deena yelled, a hair late and a smidge too loud.
“I need to change,” April grumbled. Her shirt was soaking wet.
With my back to them both, I used a napkin to wipe off the device again—and in the same motion shut all the messages. She paused at the table, evidently looking for her phone. I held it out to her.
“I’m so sorry, April. Some chocolate got on your phone, but I think it’s okay.”
She took it from me and curled her lip. “Thanks,” she snapped, before stalking out of the room.
Deena looked sapped. She fell into a chair and blotted her blouse, which was almost as wet as April’s shirt. “Oh, my goodness, Sierra. That has to be the craziest thing you’ve ever done. Was it even worth it?”
I was feeling a little dazed myself. I’d just seen a ton of incriminating messages in a very short time. I still needed to process it all. I also needed to figure out what to do next. For now, though, I needed to call the mission a success.
I dipped my finger in the small bowl I’d filled and licked the chocolate from my finger.
“Yes, ma’am. It was definitely worth it.”
Before discussing anything, my first priority was chocolate removal. Deena and I gave the dining room a thorough cleaning, effectively erasing all evidence of our fondue flimflam. We tidied the kitchen and did the dishes too. Richard came through the back door as we were breaking down the pizza boxes.
“What a nice surprise! Y’all didn’t need to do this.”
I exchanged a guilty glance with Deena. “We wanted to. But there’s plenty of fruit and chocolate left, if you want us to get it back out.”
“Mm … yes. I think I will heat up some of that sauce for myself. You ladies have a seat and tell me the latest scoop. Anymore strange shenanigans at Flower House?”
I pulled out a chair from the small kitchen table, while Deena perused Richard’s countertop wine rack. “Mind if we open one of these?” she asked.
“Please do.” He brought out three wine glasses and handed Deena a corkscrew, before making himself a plate of fruit. He heated a bowl of chocolate sauce in the microwave.
I tapped my glass nervously on the table. “Where’s Vince?” I was dying to share what I’d learned, but I definitely didn’t want to be overheard.
Richard left the fondue and fruit on the counter and indicated we should help ourselves. “Vince went to his room. He said they plan to get an early start tomorrow.”
Deena selected a sweet red dessert wine and filled our glasses. I arose from the table to make my own plate of fruit and chocolate, and Deena followed suit. After all, we didn’t have a chance to enjoy any before.
As soon as we all gathered at the table, I spoke in a low voice. Deena and Richard both leaned in to hear me. “You guys, I think I know who killed Professor Lowry.”
“Ooh, juicy,” said Richard. He apparently didn’t think I was being serious. “Do tell.”
“You found proof on April’s phone?” asked Deena.
“Wait, what?” said Richard.
“Yeah.” I took a sip of wine, then told Richard I’d had an opportunity to sneak a peek into April’s text messages.
He cocked his head. “There’s so much I want to ask right now, but maybe we better stick to the important stuff. You really know who the murderer is?”
Nodding, I said the name in a whisper. “Isaiah.”
“No way,” said Richard.
“Are you sure?” asked Deena. “Did he confess? What exactly did you see?”
I told them about both snippets of conversation between April and Vince. “I had to read between the lines a little, but it absolutely sounded like Isaiah had a plan to push Lowry off the mountain. April and Vince were trying to talk him out of it.”
Deena and Richard both looked horrified. “That’s dark,” said Richard.
“I know. Then, right after the murder, April said she couldn’t believe he did it. Or something like that.” The exact wording of the messages was fading from my mind already. “It sounded like they both believed Isaiah had done it.”
Deena frowned. “So, were they just speculating? Maybe Isaiah was joking about offing the professor. And, when somebody actually did it, they simply assumed it was him. For all we know, it still could have been Bart.”
“Or maybe it was one of them,” said Richard.
“You mean April or Vince?” I asked.
“Sure, why not? Either of them could have been lying to the other when they said Isaiah must have done it. If the professor was as horrible as you say, it sounds like they all had a motive.”
“Actually, he was even worse.” I told Richard what I’d discovered at the university. “And April is definitely trying to take over as kingpin. I saw some text messages that confirmed it.”
Richard covered his mouth to stifle a snicker. “I know this isn’t funny, but really? Little April a drug lord?”
Deena appeared skeptical too. “Well, poppy tea is the drug, which seems about right.”
I dragged a strawberry through chocolate sauce and considered what they’d said. It was true: this whole situation sounded like something out of Alice in Wonderland—if Alice wanted to become the Queen of Hearts and take charge of the Mad Hatter’s tea party.
I shook off the reverie and bit into a strawberry. “I know this is absurd,” I said, “but these students are not the innocent kids they seem to be. They got themselves mixed up in some dangerous business.”
As I thought about it, I recalled April’s intensity every time she was on her phone. And from what Richard told us earlier, she’d been arguing with Isaiah. Their rivalry seemed to be real.
Then I remembered something else. What was it Calvin had said Isaiah told him in the greenhouse? It was something about watching out for himself and having the drive to take matters into his own hands.
Richard looked worried. “Are you saying they’re still dangerous?”
“I don’t know. I mean, if Isaiah decided it was okay to murder once, who’s to say he wouldn’t do it again?” I glanced at the kitchen window, ensuring it was closed. It felt risky to be talking like this when the students were so nearby. Presumably, Isaiah would return with Sheila anytime.
“If Isaiah did it, I don’t know if April and Vince are necessarily dangerous,” Deena said doubtfully. “But they could probably be arrested as accomplices. They didn’t go to the authorities before the trip, when they knew what he was planning, or afterward.”
“Jeesh,” muttered Richard. “It’s like Lord of the Flies. Do those people have no morals?”
I fell silent and pushed my plate away. I needed to go to the police with what I’d learned. That much was clear. But I began to wonder if there wasn’t an even more pressing issue. If Isaiah’s original plan was to push Lowry over a precipice—and he was now urging April, his rival, to go on the same hike … could that mean April was in danger?
It was an unbelievable idea. Yet, once it arose in my mind, I couldn’t let go of it.
“Richard, do you know exactly where they’re going tomorrow?”
He shook his head. “They didn’t say. Somewhere in the Smokies.”
“No problem,” Deena said sarcastically. “There are only, what, three-hundred-plus trails?”
“Covering nearly a thousand miles,” Richard added.
“Isaiah has been on this trip a couple of times,” I said. “He apparently knows the trails pretty well.” Including the “perfect spot” to push someone off the side.
Suddenly, I recalled the trip itinerary I’d seen in Professor Lowry’s office. I’d handed a copy to Calvin to write down Benji’s address. I wondered if he still had the paper with him. I reached for my phone, thinking I’d call and ask. Then I stopped myself and scowled. I’d almost forgotten. I was mad at him.
“What’s wrong?” asked Deena. “Are you going to call the police now?”
I laughed shortly. “Uh, yeah. That’s a better idea than I had. As if I have time for a hike in the Smokies tomorrow. I’ve got wedding flowers to arrange.”
Richard raised an eyebrow. “A hike? You didn’t think you were going to follow them into the mountains? You may be spunky, but I know you’re not stupid.”
“Gee, thanks.” I made a face at him and grabbed my phone. But then I paused, uncertain who to call. “I’m not sure who’s in the station at this hour. Should I call 9-1-1?”
Deena tapped her manicured nails on the table. “How would that play out? An officer arrives here and you accuse Isaiah of murder—with no evidence to back it up?”
“That’s a good point,” said Richard. “The only proof, if it can be called that, is on April’s phone. If she gets suspicious, she’ll delete those messages faster than you can say poppy tea.”
Biting my lip, I pushed my chair back and stood up. I felt so helpless. I had to do something, so I took my plate and glass to the sink and rinsed them out. Then I turned to my friends. “We have to stop that hike tomorrow. I’ll go to the police … somehow. Maybe I’ll add the new info in the anonymous letter I plan to write. But I’m afraid I won’t be able to get the cops to do anything before the students leave tomorrow morning. What can we do?”
Deena gave me a look of helpless regret. We’d already carried out one harebrained scheme tonight. Neither of us could come up with another one.
Richard, on the other hand, had a devious glint in his eye. Nodding to himself, he snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it.”
Deena and I spoke in unison. “What?”
Smiling, he stood up and corked the wine bottle. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll take care of it. The three musketeers won’t be going on a hike tomorrow.”
“How?” Deena and I again spoke at the same time.
“You two spend too much time together,” Richard joked. “Now, stop speaking in stereo and get yourselves home. It’s late. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
No matter how much we begged and cajoled, Richard wouldn’t tell us his plan. I had no choice but to let go of my fear and have a little faith.
On our way out, we passed through the living room—and were startled to see Isaiah and Vince. It was so unexpected, Deena gasped and I clapped my hand over my mouth. They were sprawled in the armchairs, each watching something on his own phone. I wondered how long they’d been there.
They barely looked up as we walked by. When we reached the foyer, my skin prickled and I looked back at them. It felt for all the world like someone had been watching me.
Then again, it was probably just my imagination.