11

Plum

It wasn’t fair. Finn didn’t think he was asking for too much. All he wanted was to claim full ownership of his own invention, the one he’d created, all by himself, on his own time. Sure, he’d done his work in the school labs, using the school’s equipment, and under the agreement that he’d made with Blackbrook . . . but still.

Was that any reason that he should have to share what was rightfully his?

And Scarlett! Pretending she wanted nothing to do with him, claiming that she had no idea what he was after, and all along, she’d been bribing Rusty Nayler to get her hands on Finn’s work. He’d always known she was manipulative, ruthless, and a markedly good liar. But, it turned out, she was better than he’d ever suspected.

It had taken him the whole evening to work out what had really happened and how skillfully she’d manipulated the situation to get him exactly where she wanted him.

First: she must have heard about his project and, more, divined where he’d hidden it during the storm.

Second: she’d bribed Rusty to go retrieve his work out of the secret passage.

Why that hadn’t worked was a thought exercise to which Finn did not want to devote too much time. Maybe Rusty had banged his head on a pipe, passed out, and frozen to death. Maybe his corpse had been chewed on by rats. Finn didn’t know. Biology wasn’t his chosen field.

But he didn’t think Scarlett had killed the man.

Probably.

However it happened, Rusty had not made it out of the passages with Finn’s stuff. So the third step of Scarlett’s plan must have been: when Finn approached her with an offer to team up, she played the innocent and let him unseal the passages all by himself.

That made sense. Didn’t it?

It was the only explanation he could think of. Unless there was something else that Scarlett wanted from Rusty, and the fact that he was in the secret passage was nothing more than a red herring.

Either way, one thing was perfectly clear: Finn could not trust Scarlett. She had some nerve being so upset that he had lied to her last term. That he’d kept secrets from her. Scarlett obviously had plenty of secrets of her own.

He wouldn’t let her outmaneuver him this time. He had the evidence—the money she’d given Rusty. He just didn’t know what to do with it. Turning it in to Dr. Brown would be counterproductive, for certain. One thing he was sure of after his observation today, Scarlett had not been able to get back into the passages to steal his work. The word on the street was that Dr. Brown had engaged every person with a hammer on Rocky Point to lock those passages down.

And that left Finn back at square one. He wished he’d thought of bribing Rusty when he’d had the chance. But the passages had been secret for so long, it had never even occurred to him that his invention would be unsafe there.

Securing his work had to be priority one. Getting revenge on Scarlett . . . he’d worry about that later.

After classes, he headed straight to the gym. Finn might not be able to trust anyone, but that didn’t mean that he had to work alone. He needed an in at Tudor House, and the best option left to him could almost certainly be found working out.

They’d finally erected the new winter dome over the tennis courts. It glowed in the darkness. Finn let himself inside.

Beth was there, beating the pants off an entire stable of freshmen. Her previous victims were slumped on the benches, dripping with sweat and watching her destroy the latest contender. The coach stood by the net, frowning.

“Okay, Picach,” he said at last. “Let’s take ten.”

Beth did not look like she wanted to take even two, but as she was trotting obediently off the court, she saw Finn. Her whole demeanor changed, a broad smile breaking out across her face. Peacock, the terror of the tennis courts, vanished, and Beth reappeared. She turned to the coach.

“Actually, maybe some of the others want extra practice time? I’m happy to give up my place.”

Coach Lungelo looked surprised. “Really? Okay, then. I’ll run some drills for the underclassmen.”

“Wonderful,” she said. She clasped her hands before her. “Thank you so much for sharing with me the privilege of your time and expertise.” She turned toward her victims—um, opponents. “I am honored to have played on the other side of your net. Stay radiant.”

The other players exchanged bewildered glances. Finn didn’t blame them.

“Hey!” she greeted him. “I’m so glad to see you. Did you come to the courts looking for me?”

“Um, yeah.” He gestured to the rest of the team. “What was that?”

She cast them one backward glance. “They’re hopeless. Everyone good went to Newark Academy. But I’m trying to hold more gratitude for the things I have, rather than get frustrated about what I don’t. My life coach says that positive aspecting will help potentiate my flow state.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Finn asked. “Are those tennis terms?”

“Basically, I shouldn’t trash the team just because they suck and I don’t. It’s not helpful to their game or my state of mind.”

Finn considered this. On one hand, it sounded like nonsense. On the other hand, the old Beth threw candlesticks and punched people. So maybe this was better. “Well, you look good.”

“Thank you. I feel good.” They’d reached her bag. She grabbed a bottle of water and took a healthy slug. “I think it’s my cleanse. My life coach has me on this cleanse—”

“Oh, yeah.” He’d heard about the smoothies from Scarlett.

“But when I’m working out, I stick to alkaline water.”

“What?” Why would anyone mess with the pH balance of water?

She held out the bottle. “It reduces the acidity level in my body and helps prevent free radicals.”

“Does it, though?” he asked skeptically.

“Here, want to try it? I don’t love the taste, but if I squeeze some lemon into it, it’s fine.”

Finn blinked at her in disbelief. This was probably not the time to get into an argument with his ex-girlfriend, but had she forgotten everything from their freshman chemistry class? “You’re adding lemon juice to alkaline water?”

“Yeah.” She took a huge swig.

“Doesn’t the citric acid from the lemon—I don’t know—neutralize the alkalinity?”

Slowly, Beth lowered the bottle, frowning. “Um . . .” Her brow furrowed. “My coach told me to . . .”

“Coach Lungelo?”

“No,” she said. “My new coach—my life coach. He’s out of California.”

Finn was pretty sure acids and bases worked just the same in California as in Maine. “Is he . . . um, charging you for this special water?”

She glared at him. “Make fun all you want. Since I’ve been working with Ash, I’ve knocked half a minute off my mile and added six inches to my box jump. I don’t know how it works, but I know that it does.”

“Sure,” said Finn, amicably. Placebo was a hell of a drug.

“Anyway, I’m so glad I got a chance to see you. I’ve been worried about you, Finn.” She reached over and touched his arm. “And I want to make sure that I’ve reached out to both you and Scarlett today. We need to support one another. I think that’s part of the reason that things got so . . . mixed up last time.”

“Last time we found a dead body?”

“I know, right?” Beth shook her head. “This is too much for us to handle. On top of school and extracurriculars and those stupid tests? I talked to Mr. Winkle at the guidance office. He wants us all to get tutors, but I don’t know if it’s too late for that. I think they should be giving us extra time on the exam or something, don’t you? Because of stress?”

There was an idea. Not that Finn cared about the standardized tests. But Scarlett did. Scarlett could probably make something like that happen, too. He’d mention it to her, if he weren’t so furious at her.

“This stress is overwhelming. It makes us turn on each other when we should really be sticking together.”

No—betrayal made them turn on each other.

“I know none of us would do anything to hurt Rusty,” Beth was saying. “You and I, Finn, we’ve had our differences, but that doesn’t make you a murderer.”

“Wait, what?” Finn shook his head. “You think I had something to do with this?”

“Of course not!” Beth exclaimed. “And I would never insinuate something like that, even as a way to get back at you for doing it to me last term.” She smiled at him. “Because we’re friends, right?”

He eyed her with some suspicion. Maybe all that acidic alkaline water was going to her head.

“We need to stick together!” Beth went on. “Not let our energies drag each other down. You, me, Scarlett—all the Murder Crew.” She thought for a moment. “Also, we might need a better name.”

“About Scarlett,” he began. “I’m not so sure she’s completely innocent this time around. I have evidence—”

“Is this real evidence or like that time you told everyone I killed Headmaster Boddy because you heard us fighting in his office?” Beth grinned at him and shouldered her bag. “Walk me back to Tudor?”

What choice did he have? Beth’s long strides might have reflected her extra energy or just a desire to get through the chilly night air as quickly as possible, and Finn hurried to keep up. It was hard to imagine, sometimes, that they’d once dated. He’d been enamored of her skill on the tennis court. As a player, Beth was ruthless, bloodthirsty. It was very hot.

Until she’d turned some of that rage on him. Maybe he’d deserved it, but their breakup had been far from pretty. And now, here she was, serving up platitudes about teamwork and brotherly love.

“My emotional labor has been pretty tied up these past few weeks,” she said. “I’ve had to cope with the return to Tudor House, to my routine, all without losing the inner peace that I fought so hard for over break. There’s a real danger of backsliding into the angry, suspicious person I don’t want to be anymore. I have to devote myself wholeheartedly to freeing my spirit and allowing myself to be happy.”

“Maybe some suspicion is warranted,” Finn said. “There was a dead body under your house.”

“But it has nothing to do with me,” Beth insisted. “Just like last time. It’s the law of attraction. If I let myself get upset about it, other people will start to connect me to this awful thing that happened. If I stay positive, people will see that I’m just living my truth.”

Finn hated to admit that she had a point, somewhere under all the woo-woo. Wasn’t that how Scarlett had gotten the goods on him? He’d let himself show too much concern over what she knew and how she knew it. He let himself reveal exactly how worried he was about what was in the secret passages.

“Speaking of lingering negative vectors . . .” Beth said, and Finn looked up to see Mustard approaching them on the path. “I guess now’s my chance to reverse the energy polarity.”

“That doesn’t make any—”

“Hey,” said Mustard, looking wary as they met him on the walk.

“Mustard!” Beth beamed at him. “I’m so glad to see you. How are you?”

“Fine.” He gave Finn an unreadable glance.

“I’m sorry we didn’t have the chance to talk the other day, in the kitchen,” she went on. “I’m so happy to hear that Dr. Brown didn’t punish you for sneaking around.”

“What are you talking about?” Mustard asked.

“In the closet? Last night? Scarlett said Dr. Brown caught you.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Mustard looked away. “Green is not exactly sneaky.”

“Well, no harm, right?” she said gently. “And how are you doing? With the . . . new death and all?”

“Fine.” Mustard shrugged and cast another glance at Finn. “It’s not like I really knew him. Green seemed a little upset, though.”

“Of course!” Beth exclaimed, as if that had only just occurred to her. “Poor Vaughn. I wonder if I should take him a smoothie. Does anyone know his address in Rocky Point?”

“Scarlett might,” Finn said, and immediately regretted it. Beth would probably insist they join forces with her to bring Vaughn a fruit basket or something.

He did not want to be a part of the Murder Crew. He did not want to be part of any crew. All he wanted was to get his dye back.

“Actually, I bet we can get the address from the administration office,” Mustard said. “Plum, want to come with me?”

“Pass,” said Finn. He didn’t need to go to Rocky Point. He needed to get into the secret passage.

“I’ll go!” Beth offered.

“Oh,” said Mustard, again. He seemed—what?—flustered, every time he looked at them. It was strange, Finn thought. He was generally so unflappable.

Then again, the last time Mustard had spent time with Beth, she’d laid him flat with a single punch.

“I really wanted a chance to hang out with you, Mustard,” Beth went on, doing that new hand-clasp thing she’d started. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

He ran his hand through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “Or fist.”

Then they both kind of laughed at that.

They looked good together, Finn realized. Mustard was as tall as Beth—maybe even taller. Finn remembered picking her up for a formal dance freshman year. She’d been in a pale pink concoction, with a towering pair of heels. He’d thought she looked amazing—like an Amazon. But she’d insisted on changing out of the heels so she didn’t loom over him. She said she didn’t like bending over to kiss him.

Finn pictured Beth kissing Mustard and frowned.

“Can we finish this discussion inside?” he said, nodding toward Tudor House. Maybe this was best. They could make a plan to hang out there. A plan that would conveniently not include him. He would remain behind and get another crack at those passages. “It’s freezing out here.”

“Sorry,” said Beth. “I’m so warm after practice, I barely noticed.”

“Yeah,” Mustard agreed. “It’s not so bad. At Farthing Military Academy we’d get down to minus-twenty some days.”

“Wow!” Beth replied.

Finn scowled, staring at Mustard’s annoyingly broad shoulders. When they all started walking again, Beth went in front, and Mustard fell into step at Finn’s side. Probably so he could stare at Beth’s butt. That’s what dude-bros like Mustard did, right?

Peacock and Mustard. They’d go so perfectly together, each with their dumb nicknames.

“Thursday. Are you at the lab?”

“What?” Finn asked.

Mustard was not looking at Beth. He was looking at Finn. His eyebrows were raised, as if he was saying something much more meaningful than “lab.”

“Yes.” Finn narrowed his eyes. How did Mustard know his schedule?

“I thought I saw you there. Are you free for lunch tomorrow?”

“Why?”

“So we could eat?” Mustard said, as if trying to communicate in a foreign language. “We haven’t really talked since—” And now it was Mustard’s turn to nod at the creepy mansion looming ahead. “Did the new headmaster follow up on Boddy’s threat to you?”

All at once, Finn understood. After Mustard had confronted him in the secret passage last term, he’d confessed to the new kid about his experiment and about how Boddy had discovered that Finn was doing research on the school’s dime. At the time, it had seemed to be better than letting Mustard believe what he was likely suspecting—that Finn had killed the old headmaster.

But it was now coming back to bite him. First Scarlett wanted a piece of the action, now Mustard.

However, Finn had taken care to search Boddy’s notes at the same time he’d erased the cheating complaints against Beth, in the headmaster’s office, during the flood. No one in the Blackbrook administration now knew of his misdeeds, and as long as Scarlett and Mustard kept their traps shut, no one would.

They’d reached Tudor House now, and Beth strode inside as if the place wasn’t crawling with corpses. They stood in the brightly lit hall. His skin tingled, the way your flesh does when it remembers it’s not supposed to be frozen.

“Let me just shower and change,” Beth called, barreling up the stairs. “You guys can wait here.”

“Okay,” Mustard said. He was still looking at Finn as Beth’s blue-tipped ponytail snapped out of sight. “How was it—seeing the dead body?”

“Like the last one.”

“The last one didn’t fall on top of you.”

“Well, maybe I’ll get luckier next time.” He cocked his head. “Are you playing detective again?”

“No,” Mustard said sheepishly. “I don’t think it worked out too well.”

That was for sure. “Look, why don’t you just tell me what you’re after?”

Mustard appeared taken aback. “I’m not—”

“You can’t squeeze blood from a stone,” Finn said. “There’s not going to be any money if I can’t get my research back, and that whole situation with Rusty just made it a hell of a lot harder.”

“What are you two doing in here?”

The boys turned to see a girl standing in the hall, her arms crossed over her parka and her expression disdainful. “Dr. Brown said no guests allowed after last night. Unless you have band rehearsal or an established study hall?”

“Rosa, right?” Finn said. “Hi, I’m Finn Plum, and—”

“I know who you are,” Rosa said. “And you, too.” She nodded at Mustard, who seemed to have grown another few inches in the last minute.

“Are you new here?” Mustard asked her.

“Yes.”

“Where did you transfer from?”

“Abroad.”

“Military?”

She clucked her tongue and did not deign to answer. Instead, she said, “So what’s it gonna be, boys? Music, study hall, or do I have to ask you to leave?”

Finn made a face. “I’m sorry, are you a hall monitor or something?”

“I’m a resident of Tudor House,” she replied, her tone short. “And you almost got expelled last night for sneaking around here. So tell me again how familiar you are with the school rules?”

Mustard laughed at that, but Finn was not amused.

“Okay,” Mustard said, raising his hands. “Tell Peacock why we had to leave.”

“I’m not your messenger. Besides, I have stuff to do. I was on my way out, myself. Allow me to escort you.”

“Hey!” Finn said sharply. “We didn’t know the rules, okay? Beth invited us in.”

The door to the study opened at all the commotion. Scarlett stood on the threshold. She looked—Finn had to admit—a bit like crap. She was wearing a pair of lounge pants with what appeared to be coffee stains on the thigh, and her hair was tied up in a messy bun. There were dark smudges underneath her eyes.

“What’s going on out here?” she cried. “Some of us are trying to study.”

Finn’s gaze went right beyond her to the study—and the bookshelf and the passage to his future. All he could see was plywood. He wondered what she was really doing in there.

“Rosa?” Scarlett asked. “Did you invite these boys in?”

“You know I didn’t,” the other girl replied. “They said Peacock did. I was just kicking them out.”

“Fine by me,” said Mustard. “Come on, Plum.”

“Wait!” decreed Scarlett. She stared at each of them in turn, but her gaze was on Finn as she said, “Finn can go. Mustard can stay.”

“What?”

She glared at him. “You heard me, Phineas. Out of our house.”

He clenched his jaw. “Two can play this game, Scarlett.”

She laughed mirthlessly. “I haven’t the foggiest clue what you mean. I have a planned study session with Mustard.” She had nothing of the sort, and every person in the hall knew it. “I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

He puffed out his chest. “As I said, Beth invited me.”

Scarlett made a show of looking around. “Huh. I don’t see her.”

“She’s in the shower.”

“Well, I don’t think she invited you there,” Scarlett said.

Finn scowled, then glanced at Mustard, who was now looking anywhere but at him.

“Now. Get. Out.” She turned to Mustard. “Not you. You, I can use.”

Finn did not have to stand there and take this. He drew close to Mustard. “Don’t believe a word out of her mouth,” he breathed to Mustard. “And call me after.”

“Okay,” said Mustard, then did a double take. “Wait, what?”

“Out!” Scarlett repeated.

With one last, withering glance at his former partner-in-crime, and a stone-faced escort from the new girl, Rosa, Finn left the house.

And Mustard.

In the belly of the beast.