Bex slammed the laptop shut and skittered away, pressing herself up against the side of her bed and breathing hard.
Someone you love is going to die.
The pounding of her heart metered out the words: you’re (thump) going (thump) to (thump) die (thump). She stared at her computer in abject horror, waiting for it to ping out the sound of a new message, to open itself up, the ominous silver screen glow coming after her.
“Just a weirdo freak,” she panted, her heartbeat thudding in her head now. “He’s just stupid.”
She clicked out the lights and curled up on her bed, pressing her eyes closed tightly, but the words were behind her eyelids too, tattooed there, stark and black and deadly. She opened her eyes and blinked as though she could erase the words from her mind. Then she stared into the darkness, letting her eyes adjust. A breeze lazed through her open window, pushing back her curtains. A car drove slowly down the street and Bex dove to the window, certain the car was looking for her.
Who is IMHIM?
Her father was safe; he was on her side. But the site was populated by the Wife Collector’s crazed “fans,” morbid rejects who thought murder was cool and treated killers like rock stars. And wanted to be like them.
“He’s probably just some stupid kid, trying to scare me.”
Bex tried to believe it, but something ominous made her uneasy. Something that told her IMHIM_HESME wasn’t joking. Something that told her that he was closer than she wanted to believe.
She wasn’t sure when she fell asleep, but when she did, she slept fitfully, dreaming of old newspaper clippings and of the hollow, haunted look in Lauren’s eyes, and of her father and Detective Schuster, and the sound of the dirt falling on Darla’s coffin: heavy, smothering.
• • •
“It’s just unnatural being at school at night,” Chelsea was saying as she and Laney walked just ahead of Trevor and Bex. Trevor squeezed Bex’s hand in his and shot her a heart-melting smile. It made the lump in her throat feel that much more raw. She shifted her purse. It was weighted down with an extra set of clothes and a thick handful of underwear, socks, and bras, as well as a toothbrush and the least amount of makeup she could get by with.
She and her father would leave tonight.
Bex still couldn’t believe it. As much as she wanted to be with her dad, to see him vindicated, she didn’t want to leave Trevor—and she didn’t want to leave Detective Schuster to terrorize more women. She planned to call the police when she and her father were safely out of town.
“This is where I get off,” Trevor said. “I have the awesome job of opening and closing the curtain for the drama showcase.”
Bex gave him a lingering kiss, holding on to his hands and trying not to cry.
“Let him up for air, Bex!”
Trevor didn’t seem to mind, but Bex broke the kiss anyway, pecking him one more time and watching him sprint toward the drama department.
“Someone needs to turn a hose on you two,” Laney said.
Chelsea rolled her eyes and tossed a perfectly coiffed piece of her blond hair over her shoulder. “You’re just mad because you’re the only one of us not in love.” She did a twirl. “My boyfriend is amazing and makes me feel so safe. Dating a cop will do that for you.”
Bex stopped. “You’re dating a cop?”
“A detective, actually.” She wrinkled her nose and held her index finger and thumb a half inch a part. “He’s a weensy bit older but doesn’t look it.”
“Because you’re sixteen pushing forty-five.” Laney smirked. “My stop. See you later.”
Bex stepped closer to Chelsea. “He’s a detective?” Heat spiraled up her spine. “Chels, what’s his name?”
“I told you, Ms. Never Listen. Danny.”
Bex blinked. Detective Schuster. What was his first name? Then it came to her: Detective Lieutenant Daniel Schuster.
Someone you love is going to die.
Bex snatched Chelsea by the arm and gave her a hard yank. “Chelsea, you can’t see him. You can’t see him ever again.”
The delight on Chelsea’s face turned to anger. “And why not?”
“He’s bad, Chels. Please, you’ve got to believe me.”
Chelsea rolled her eyes at Bex. “You’re just jealous that your boyfriend is a little boy when mine is a man. Get over it, Bexy.”
“I’m serious!”
People were starting to fill the campus; a din was starting to reverberate through the halls as kids escorted their parents around, pointing out lockers and classrooms. A crowd cut between Chelsea and Bex.
“You have to listen to me!”
But Chelsea had already dismissed her and was pushing her cell phone to her ear. It was then that Bex noticed the charm hanging from Chelsea’s cell phone case: a tiny, jeweled flower. It hung from a loop of silk floss, but it wasn’t a charm—it was an earring.
A small, gold, five-petaled flower with a pearl in the center. Just like the one that Lauren wore. Just like the one that the Wife Collector took when he killed Lauren’s mother.
Bex grabbed Chelsea’s wrist, her breath a terrified whisper.
“Where did you get that charm?”
Chelsea glanced at the flower, pink rushing over her cheeks. “Danny.”
Bex’s entire body turned to ice. “No, Chelsea, no. That belonged to… That’s an earring. You can’t—you can’t see Danny anymore. Please, Chels, please listen to me.”
Chelsea’s eyes narrowed and she shoved the phone in her back pocket. “I’m done with you.” She spun on her heel and started to walk.
“He killed Darla, Chelsea!”
But by that time, the overhead speaker had crackled on and the principal was in the middle of his welcome speech. Bex saw Chelsea’s arm raise above the undulating crowd, her wrist flipping dismissively.
Bex wasn’t sure Chelsea had even heard her.
The crowd split and jostled by, then closed on her, and Bex was bumped from side to side.
“’Scuse me.”
Bex looked up to see Zach, his GoPro slung around his neck.
“Pardon me.”
Another jostle, another ear-splitting announcement over the PA. Bex felt hopeless as she allowed the crowd to pull her down the hall.
No.
She wasn’t alone anymore. She dialed her father.
“I’m here, Bethy.”
“Dad, I think Chelsea is dating Detective Schuster. Or she thinks she is. We’ve got to stop him.” The tears were falling freely now and Bex was hiccupping. “We’ve got to stop him before he hurts her.”
“Do you know where she is?”
Bex scanned the hall. “I can’t see her, but she was headed down to D hall. It’s the classrooms closest to the parking lot.”
“I’ll help, Bethy.”
The second she hung up her phone, it rang again.
Detective Schuster.
She stared at the readout, her hand trembling. She watched the phone light up with each ring, finally letting out her breath when the missed call icon flashed. And then the phone started ringing again. Bex paced, her stomach playing the accordion. She answered before the final ring.
“Detective Schuster?”
“Bex, thank God you answered. Where are you right now?”
She looked around, certain he could hear the swell of voices. “I’m at school.”
“I think your father is on his way there. Stay put. Hang tight and I will be there in five minutes. Don’t do anything until I get there, okay? If you see him…run away.” Then the call ended.
The hall started to clear as parents followed their kids into classes. Bex was determined, speed dialing her phone as she jogged toward Chelsea and her father in D hall.
“Pick up, Chelsea!” When Chelsea didn’t, she tried Laney, Trevor, and Denise. No one answered. “Where are they? Where are they?”
Detective Schuster’s text came through as Bex rounded the corner into B hall. My men are two minutes from campus. Where are you?
Bex spun, looking at the hall of closed doors around her. The C hall was mostly metal shop and electives, classrooms none of the parents visited. The hall was dark. Bex’s heart thundered and skidded. She dialed Chelsea again and again and was greeted by her voice mail. She was about to dial her father when she heard voices.
They were muffled but still audible. And she knew they were girls, and then a boy spoke. One of the girls laughed out loud, and Bex’s stomach went to liquid.